Dragon Lords Books 1 – 4 Box Set

10th Anniversary Editions

Michelle M. Pillow

Michelle M. Pillow

Contents

Copyright

10 Year Anniversary Edition

New to Dragon Lords?

Dragon Lords Stories

About Dragon Lords Series

Barbarian Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

Copyright

About Barbarian Prince

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Perfect Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

Copyright

About Perfect Prince

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Dark Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

Copyright

About Dark Prince

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

Warrior Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

Copyright

About Warrior Prince

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Enjoy this Box Set?

The Complete Series

The series continues…

About the Author

Complimentary Material

Determined Prince

The Savage King

Love Potions

The Dragon’s Queen

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Dragon Lords © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

10th Anniversary Edition Books 1 – 4 Box Set, December 2014

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

10 Year Anniversary Edition

Ten years ago my second book was published, Dragon Lords: The Barbarian Prince (2004). It’s hard to believe a decade has passed. In many ways it feels like only yesterday that I penned the first four princes’ futuristic stories. I actually wrote Dragon Lords 1-4 at the same time while on a contract-signing high after receiving my first book deal with an e-first publisher. It was a mad blur of endless hours typing, completely immersed in the futuristic world. I loved the stories, but I never imagined they would gain the following that they have.

In 2004 ebooks were still relatively new and people tended to act as if they weren’t “real” books. The books did go into print editions soon after the digital versions. Most people hadn’t even heard of an ebook. I couldn’t count how many times I uttered the words, “Yes, it’s a real book, just a different way of reading. It still takes the same amount of time to write. It still gets a cover. It still goes through edits.” Ten years later the majority of people have embraced the ebook. I’m very proud to say I have been an ebook author from the beginning.

Oh, how the industry has changed in 10 years. Not only do we have ebooks, but we have mainstream self-publishing. It seemed fitting after being an e-first author at a time when ebooks weren’t well known that I’d take a chance on mainstream self-publishing in its infancy. A lot of people told me I was crazy to give up large contracts—even if they weren’t right for my career. So the second editions (and now the 10th anniversary editions) released under the indie umbrella of The Raven Books, owned by myself and Mandy M. Roth. The second editions were first sold in a dedicated store on The Raven Books website. Then, as companies like Amazon, All Romance Ebooks, Smashwords, and Barnes & Noble opened up for self-published ebooks, the Dragon Lords were right there ready to go. I’m also proud to say I’ve been a part of the self-publishing indie movement from the beginning.

But, back to the first editions… 2004 was before the self-publishing boom and new authors at a publisher don’t always get much of a say in the finished product of a book—or maybe lack of publishing experience means the newbie doesn’t know how or what to ask. A lot of times we were just thrilled to have made it past the gruelingly long submission, rejection, query, acceptance process. These anniversary editions are my chance to look again at those first novels and do things a little differently, hopefully better.

Over the last decade I’ve written in many genres—futuristic, historical, paranormal, fantasy, dark paranormal, contemporary. I’ve written for many publishers—big New York and London traditional publishers, e-first and now indie self-pub. I’ve published many series, won national awards, spoken at conferences, made bestseller lists, started the successful The Raven Books with the awesome Mandy M. Roth, and met some wonderful readers. One of the most rewarding things to come from a life as a writer is having a career that I love and making friends I couldn’t live without. I am truly blessed.

Now, a decade later, the series has grown into a whole multi-verse of spin-off series: Dragon Lords series, Lords of the Var series, Space Lords series, Zhang Dynasty series, and the Galaxy Playmates short stories. As an author, it’s amazing to have readers still asking for more books in a world after ten years. I am grateful every day for my readers.

As I prepare for the release of Dragon Lords 9 and am looking toward the future of the series (oh, yes, there are many, many more books planned in the universe), I thought it a perfect time to revisit those first four books that started it all. Ten years gives a writer a lot of time to think about the stories she’s told. It’s also a time filled with lessons. All writers are (or at least should be) continually learning and growing, and I am not the same as I was early in my career. It’s a little hard to touch the stories that so many readers have loved, for it has become as much theirs as mine, but I hope these expanded, revised versions do them the justice they deserve. I know I’m excited about it!

Thank you, readers. Your emails, social media play and support of my work has been more than an author could ever hope for.

Happy Reading!

Michelle M. Pillow

New to Dragon Lords?

Dragon Lords books 1-8 follow a concurrent time line. The fun of this is that the events you read in one book might be examined from a different point of view, sometimes with overlapping or expanded scenes, sometimes with events you might have wondered about in another book. You might even discover secrets as characters interact with each other. I recommend reading them in order to get the full effect. However if you bought the books out of order, no worries, each book is technically a standalone story for the hero and heroine.

Dragon Lords Stories

Shape-shifter Romances

Dragon Lords Series

Barbarian Prince

Perfect Prince

Dark Prince

Warrior Prince

His Highness The Duke

The Stubborn Lord

The Reluctant Lord

The Impatient Lord

The Dragon’s Queen

Lords of the Var Series

The Savage King

The Playful Prince

The Bound Prince

The Rogue Prince

The Pirate Prince

Captured by a Dragon-Shifter Series

Determined Prince

Rebellious Prince

Mischievous Prince

Headstrong Prince

Stranded with the Cajun

More to Come!

To learn more about the Dragon Lords World series of books and to stay up to date on the latest book list visit www.MichellePillow.com

About Dragon Lords Series

Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4

The dragon-shifting princes have no problem with commitment. In one night, they will meet and choose their life mate in a simplistic ceremony involving the removing of masks and the crushing of crystals. With very few words spoken and the shortest, most bizarre courtship in history, they will bond to their women forever. And once bonded, these men don’t let go...

Too bad nobody explained this to their brides.

Dragon Lords Books 5-8

The noblemen brothers aren’t new to the sacred Qurilixian bridal ceremony. After several failed attempts at finding a bride, it’s hard to get excited about yet another festival. No matter how honorable they try to live, it would seem fate thinks them unworthy of such happiness—that is until now.

With very few words spoken and the shortest, most bizarre courtship in history, they will bond to their women forever. And once bonded, these men don’t let go...

Too bad nobody explained this to their brides.

Dragon Lords Book 9

Before four princes and four noblemen found their brides, before the death of the Var King Attor and the threat of the Tyoe miners, there was a time of peace on the planet of Qurilixen. It was not a strong peace, but it had lasted for quite some time between the cat-shifting Var kingdom and their northern neighbors the dragon-shifting Draig. It lasted because both sides had very little to do with each other.

This was the time before the great war came to rift the planet apart—dragon against cat. The only battles were skirmishes along the borderlands over territory and drunken brawls that erupted to prove which shifter side was of superior strength. It is here the dragons found their queen.

Spin-off Series

Dragon Lords is the first installment in the multiple bestselling romance series. As of this publication, there are nine Dragon Lords books. The series continues with the Lords of the Var series, Space Lords series, Zhang Dynasty Series, and Captured by a Dragon-Shifter series. There will be more books and more series to come. They can be read alone, but the author recommends reading books in order of release.

For details please visit www.michellepillow.com

Barbarian Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

By Michelle M. Pillow

Barbarian Prince (Dragon Lords) © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

Previously Titled: The Barbarian Prince (Dragon Lords)

10th Anniversary Edition, Third Electronic Printing May 2014, The Raven books

Second Electronic Printing August 2010, The Raven Books

First Electronic Printing May 2004

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ISBN 9781625010841

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

About Barbarian Prince

Dragonshifting Romance

Breaking up was never so hard...

Going undercover at a mass wedding as a bartered bride, Morrigan Blake has every intention of getting off the barbaric planet just as soon as it’s over. Or, more correctly, just as soon as she captures footage of the mysterious princes rumored to be in attendance.

After a euphoric night, Morrigan discovers her spaceship left without her, and Ualan of Draig is claiming she’s his wife. It’s not exactly the story this reporter had in mind. And to make matters worse, the all-to-seductive alpha refuses to take no for an answer.

Being cursed by the Gods was never so frustrating...

Prince Ualan is prepared to follow dragon-shifter tradition and marry the woman revealed to him during the Breeding Festival. When the stubborn, yet achingly sexy, Morrigan refuses to accept their shared fate and his supreme authority over her, it is all he can do to keep from acting like the barbarian she accuses him of being.

To my mother:

Thank you for always being there for me. For listening when I rant. For picking up the phone when you know I’m calling to rant. For helping me with all those things only we know about. For believing in me. For helping me refinish my wood floors and repainting the interior walls again…oh, wait, you didn’t know about that last one yet.

Chapter 1

Wanted: Galaxy Brides Corporation seeking 46 fertile humanoid-compatible females of early childbearing years and A5+ health status for marriage to strong, healthy Qurilixian males at their annual Breeding Festival. Possibility of royal attendance. Must be eager bed partners, hard workers. Virginity a plus. Apply with official health documents, travel papers and IQ screen to: Galaxy Brides, Phantom Level 6, X Quadrant, Earthbase 5792461.

The idea had been simple. Uncover illegal virgin trading practices by Galaxy Brides Corporation. For years it had been rumored Galaxy Brides used outlawed medical techniques to restore women’s virginity. With planetary wars, an increase in pirate ships attacking lone fuel docks and questionable repossessions by the Larceny Casino Ship, virginity really shouldn’t have been a big deal. And yet, it was. Virgins meant more trade with the numerous barbaric, male-populated, humanoid planets eager for fertile young brides. If the story broke, it would be huge. It was just the sort of thing to make a star reporter’s career. It had everything—evil corporations, illegal activity, sex and deception.

Morrigan Blake was just such a reporter—or so she thought. Galaxy Brides monopolized the bride procurement industry and had strong-armed other companies out of business. If she was to bring down an evil breeding corporation that sold women to the highest bidder, she needed the evidence to do so. Unfortunately, solid evidence proved very hard to come by. Money bought power and Galaxy Brides was sailing pretty in space credits.

The medic units where such procedures took place were nearly impossible to find since they looked like any other medic unit. It would take a series of diagnostic tests to reveal the chip sequencing necessary for virginity replacement. She would just have to get the women to talk to her, which hadn’t been easy either. The brides were being compensated with otherwise expensive beauty and health treatments for their participation. Besides, most of them had their reasons for answering the advertisement and none of them were all that eager to share about their pasts.

All right, Morrigan’s inner voice debated, as she stared at her bare feet in the pedicure basin. Breeding corporations aren’t exactly evil and virginity replacement isn’t illegal in all quadrants.

Besides, bedding virgins was such an antiquated notion. She would never understand why some people became so worked up over a piece of organic tissue. Sex was just sex…not that she had personal experience with a non-mechanical partner. She had been with a droid once and, though it was fine, it was nothing special. Losing her virginity in such a way had been her choice and the entire experience proved how overrated the whole sex thing was. A quick mind sweep of a computer program could reproduce similar sensations in less time and with much less energy. Most of the men she met were an angle to an investigative story. The others weren’t humanoid compatible.

Morrigan took a deep breath. Was it possible her pursuit of this story was just a desperate attempt to boost a career filled with wedding pieces and celebrity appearances? Right now, as she sat in the spaceship’s expansive beauty parlor with the rest of the prospective brides, getting ready for the official docking later that evening, Galaxy Brides wasn’t looking too evil. Controversial, yes. Evil, no. Aside from Aeron Grey who looked like she’d been conscripted into the program by her sister Riona, all the brides were clearly there willingly.

We’re almost to the planet and I have no real facts, Morrigan thought in dejection.

The small metallic hands of a beauty droid worked frantically grooming her toes, as another pulled her dark hair into a traditional Qurilixian upsweep. Curls were left to hang down her back in long, thick waves. The droid had used a hair extender to get her normally short locks to grow. The weight was heavy on her neck and hard to get used to.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Rigan,” she said under her breath so none of the other women would hear her.

Morrigan and the other brides had spent the last month being pampered and primped for the ceremony. Looking down at her legs, she gave a half smile. If nothing else, the trip had given her a lot of free benefits—permanent hair removal, a body enhancing lift, and time to contemplate the perfect color for her toenails.

Galaxy Red number one or Galaxy Red number two?

Okay, she was definitely bored.

According to her boss, she was to do a soft, romantic piece on the four Qurilixian princes and their possible attendance at the festival. When the advertising request came in to The Universal, Gus had nearly blown his plastic artery with excitement. The last piece she did on the Lophibian royal wedding had boosted newspaper chip sales nearly forty percent and the Lophibian were a slime-dwelling species covered in scales. She had spent four months in the swamplands trudging in bluish-green goo. Though the tinting effect it had on her hair had been lovely, Morrigan would not relive that trip for all the press passes in the universe. At least she had a sales award to show for it.

Technically, there were possibly more than four Qurilixian princes on the planet. The four princes she was on assignment to interview were called the Draig. Another race on the planet was called the Var. Not much was known about either group of people. They didn’t belong to the Federation Military’s Alliance and were for the most part ignored as just another tiny insignificant planet—well, except that they had a ton of Galaxa-promethium ore which made them rare in the mining circles. There were a lot of those types of planets out there in the universe—small inhabited globes that played little to no part in the betterment of the universe as a whole.

According to her source, it had been decades since Draig royalty attended the ceremony in search of a bride, and newspaper chip readers were always eager to devour details of far off royal romances and intrigue. Normally, she would have flown straight to the planet, but luckily for her the Qurilixian people didn’t invite too many outsiders to their home world. That made this ship ride and bridal disguise necessary, and gave her inside access to Galaxy Brides.

The Breeding Festival was definitely a better assignment than slime swamps. If she could uncover a scandal and interview at least one of the four princes, she could get two stories from one trip. Not to mention, she would be in for a huge promotion and pay raise. It did help that the men were rumored to be healthy, virile specimens and would photograph particularly well. Sexy, mysterious men sold more chips.

It wouldn’t be easy. There were no known pictures of the Draig on file and they were notorious for not giving interviews, especially about their private festivals. Oh, if she could pull this off. Maybe then she could get that vacation back to her own apartment she so badly deserved. She wondered if she could remember exactly where her New Earth apartment was.

Blast! Did she even remember to pay for her apartment? Surely Gus would make sure she didn’t lose her home.

“What about you, Rigan?” Morrigan turned at the sound of her name. Nadja gave her an expectant smile from a nearby beauty seat. “Have you finished your Qurilixian etiquette uploads?” The woman’s voice was soft and polite, matching her kind blue eyes. Her light brown hair whirled around her head in a frenzy caused by six robot hands. She was very careful not to move.

No one on the ship knew Morrigan’s real purpose for being there. They all thought her to be another excited bride in search of a virile, warrior husband. To be chosen was an honor, or so the other women claimed. Morrigan’s thoughts, on the other hand, went to a Ven-5 meat market where they were the prime cut. How could she take a man seriously when he had to pay for a wife? If women were so hard to come by, they should open a trading port for fuel ore or launch a floating fuel dock. That would bring visitors to the area. Or, maybe they should actually leave their planet.

“Rigan?” Nadja repeated when Morrigan didn’t answer.

Morrigan opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Didn’t you know?” Gena laughed next to Nadja. Her hair was finished and her beauty droid was placing the customary short veil over the curly red locks. “Rigan finished her Qurilixian uploads first. It would seem she is most eager to please her new husband.”

“Or to be pleased by him,” someone added from across the circular room.

Morrigan closed her eyes, ignoring the abrasive women. Honestly, she didn’t understand their type. Sure, most were nice enough and even seemed intelligent and from a well-educated background—like the soft spoken Nadja. But why in all the galaxies would someone subject themselves to this barbaric trade was beyond her.

Being alone wasn’t so bad. She had no one to answer to except for Gus. He never hassled her unless she was late with a story. She called her own shots, made her own deals. She never had to bother with a guy looking over her shoulder asking when she would be back from her assignment. Or deal with the jealousy that would inevitably come from a mission like this. And, if she needed space credits, she worked and got them for herself. She didn’t dream of a rich prince husband to take care of her.

Still, Morrigan mused, forever trying to see all sides of a story though she wasn’t always successful in doing so, it would be nice to have someone to talk to on late nights. Someone to rub my feet when they are sore. Someone to… She smiled. Hey, I’ll just take this beauty droid home with me. Problem solved.

“I wish I could be so ambitious. I’m afraid I didn’t sit through a single one of those boring uploads.”

Since her eyes were closed Morrigan couldn’t tell who spoke. She hoped the others would assume she napped, that way she wouldn’t have to join in the nervous banter. She was afraid if she said too much her scheming thoughts would become transparent. She was, after all, close to a big paycheck and didn’t want to give her un-matrimonial intentions away.

Morrigan had spent most of the first week on the ship’s computer uploading Qurilixen facts into her brain. The specialized software interfaced with her mind to fill it full of facts, but the rush of information had given her a wicked migraine that not even a medical booth could cure. A couple days of pain were well worth the trouble, since it freed her up the rest of the trip for work. Already she had written, and transmitted, the beginning of her soft romance piece.

In the weeks after, her head had been obsessively full of the planet’s facts. It was on the outer edge of the Y quadrant, inhabited by primitive males similar to Viking clans of Medieval Old Earth. The Qurilixian worshipped many gods, favored natural comforts to modern technical conveniences, and actually preferred to cook their own food without the aid of a food simulator. They were classified as a warrior class, though they had been peaceful for nearly a century—aside from petty territorial skirmishes that broke out every fifteen or so years between a few of the rival houses.

The information she hadn’t uploaded mostly concerned the wedding ceremony and some aspects about culture and law. A human brain could only take so much information at once and she didn’t want to risk scrambling her mind just to cram in something she’d soon witness for herself. She doubted the wedding was any different from the other formal ceremonies on the planet. Morrigan had no intention of getting married while she was there, but hopefully she could see a ceremony and get some pictures. Whatever tidbits she couldn’t pick up along the way, she could upload on the trip home to finish her research and fill in the gaps.

Morrigan smiled to herself. She was definitely going to be one of the ‘unlucky’ losers who got a free trip back. Hadn’t the corporation already warned that not all the brides would be chosen? Galaxy Brides had tried to tempt her to sign an exclusive contract to keep traveling from place to place until she found a husband, but Morrigan naturally refused.

“I tried on my gown this afternoon,” Gena said, unintentionally breaking into Morrigan’s thoughts. She thrust her generous chest forward beneath the robe. “They are gorgeous, but I think I am going to go get my breasts enhanced again—just a little bigger—and I’m going to have my nipples enlarged. Those princes won’t be able to resist me. Maybe I’ll marry all four of them, just for fun.”

“How will you know who the princes are?” a blonde asked from across the room. “I’ve heard all the men wear disguises. You could end up with a royal guard.”

Morrigan buried her laugh behind her folded hand at the cynical words, recognizing Pia. Now, strangely, this seemed to be a woman who shared her uninterested views on marriage.

“Or a gardener,” offered a brunette.

“I hear they wear practically nothing at all,” added a redhead with sparkling green eyes the color of emeralds. “Except a mask and some fur.”

“You can’t miss royalty,” Gena stated boldly with a kittenish smile of excitement. “You’ll see it in the way they move. I have a very keen sense when it comes to sniffing out money and power.”

Morrigan stood as her droid finished, tired of listening to Gena. She looked down at her own enhanced breasts showing from the gap in her white robe. They were a size larger than she was used to. It had been part of the company’s beauty enhancement services as payment for their part in the trip. They were real, just genetically altered for perfection. At first, she didn’t like them. But, as she got used to the weight, she found they actually filled in her clothing quite nicely. She just hoped none of the men back at the office took too much notice. Well, whenever she actually made it back to the New Earth home office.

The luxury spacecraft was outfitted with the best accommodations and services the star system had to offer. Personal droids were assigned to each passenger, and cooking units in each of their quarters could materialize almost any culinary delight without straying from the strict mineral diets the corporation had them on. Even the doctor was biomechanical.

The only company the women had been allowed during the last month of travel was each other. They communicated with the ship’s crew by video relay and were quarantined to ensure nothing unseemly happened in what was affectionately referred to as the harem. The brides were valuable merchandise. The quarantine had provided for a very anxious, somewhat hostile atmosphere between the competing women. Morrigan frowned. She was in need of some company with testosterone and a conversation that included more than hair cream and skin glow.

As the other beauty droids finished, the prospective brides began to slowly make their way back to their personal quarters to dress. Nervous excitement infectiously buzzed through the air as they tried their best to look nonchalant. Ignoring them all, Morrigan slipped her ID card from her pocket and slid it past the laser sensor to open her door.

Once alone, she sighed as she made her way past the array of machines and blinking sensors that illuminated different parts of the room as her presence registered. With a small, absentminded command from Morrigan, music played softly in the background. She retrieved a glass of New Earth scotch from the simulator, her customary drink before landing on a new planet. It helped to steady her nerves so she could keep her wits about her.

Slowly, she went to an oval window full of sparkling stars. In the distance she could see the reddish-brown surface of the small planet of Qurilixen. Lifting the glass to the orb, she muttered, “Cheers.”

She sighed against the slow burn of the drink sliding down her throat. Simulator drinks never tasted as good as the bottle of real liquor in Gus’ office, but she couldn’t get the real thing in space. Reaching behind the curling lip of the window’s metal ledge, Morrigan pulled out a hidden container. She pushed the oval button on top, causing the lid to glide open.

Glancing around to make sure her droid wasn’t in the room, she tapped a moist disc onto her finger and stuck the clear recording device into her eye. She blinked several times to get it into place before slipping a ring onto her pinkie finger. The emerald twinkled in the mock firelight coming from the quarters’ fake fireplace.

It was hard to remain optimistic. The journey was nearly over and no one had said anything about the virginity conspiracy. There might not be a story at all. The rumors were vague at best. But Morrigan knew from living with the other women for a month, which ones would be experienced in the way of men. She would just have to wait for the marriages to be complete before seeing who was proclaimed pure. Then she would have her article and, hopefully, she would be able to prove it. Already the good assignments were going to other field reporters. If she didn’t come up with a real story soon, she would be doomed to writing about noble weddings and alien social events until the end of time.

Chapter 2

The closed door hid the Qurilixian men from view, but the brides could hear the music and laughter just beyond the docking hatch. Dusk settled over the normally sunny planet, marking the beginning of the one dark night of festival. Usually, a soft green haze of light plagued the planet’s surface. Morrigan had seen a glimpse of the landscape through her oval window as the ship touched down on the surface. Qurilixen had three suns—two yellow and one blue—and one moon, which made for a markedly bright planet. The green leaves of the planet’s foliage were overlarge due to the excessive sunlight and moisture they received. The trees towered high above the surface, like overgrown Old Earth redwoods near where she’d been born. Some of the trunks were as large around as the houses she remembered from her childhood, before her parents moved her to a thriving colony on New Earth when she was seven.

The brides waited, single file, in the corridor leading out of the ship’s port. Their bodies were covered in the fine gauze and silk of the traditional Qurilixian gowns. The slinky material stirred against their skin when they moved, hugging tight over their hips and flaring out around their legs in thin strips. Soft silk shoes encased their feet.

Qurilixian women were rare due to the blue radiation the planet suffered from. Over the generations it had altered the men’s genes to produce only strong, large, male warriors. Maybe once in a thousand births was a Qurilixian female born. In the old days, they had used portals to snatch brides from their homes, bringing them back to their planet. There were even rumors that their species originated on Old Earth, but there was no proof.

At least that was what the uploads said.

Morrigan looked down over her nearly exposed body and gave a wry smile. Since this was undoubtedly a male planet, men had assuredly designed these outfits. The gowns fell low over the breasts to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. A belt of sorts went across their backs. But, instead of looping in the front, they continued to the sides, holding the wrists low like silken chains, and winding half way up the arm to lock over the elbows. The women couldn’t lift their arms over their heads.

The fact that these barbarians had no women of their own was why the services of bridal procurement corporations like Galaxy Brides were so invaluable to them. In return, the locals would mine the precious ore found in their caves. Galaxa-promethium was a great power source for long-voyaging starships, all but useless to the Qurilixian who preferred living as simply as possible. They were not known as explorers.

Sensing the line was about to move, Morrigan looked forward and pressed the emerald on her finger two times to take a quick picture of the waiting women for her article. The recorder lens in her eye blinked black, signifying it was working. Later, she would be able to download the images and transmit them to Gus.

Vibrations grew along the metal at her feet, signifying the slide of the metal docking hatch before it even moved. The luxury craft’s door opened to reveal first the soft glow of crackling firelight from a giant bonfire pit, then the smell of burning wood mingling with nature’s exotic perfume. The sudden contrast from the sterilized ship air caused her to breathe deeply and adjust.

Outside the ship, the Qurilixian moon was large and bright, the biggest she had ever seen from a planet’s surface. The bonfire flames lapped at the starry night, sending sparks of ash into the cool air. In the distance, moonlight revealed the vague impression of mountains over the festival valley where the locals had set up the celebration. When she stepped forward the cheers of rowdy men washed over her. Morrigan blushed despite herself, feeling almost naked in her sacrificial-like attire. This wasn’t the first time she’d participated in the events she reported on, but it was the first time she was the center of attention during one.

The grounds were adorned with large pyramid tents that had small fluttering tokens fastened to them. Fire torches lit dim earthen pathways. Ribbons and banners floated on the breeze in many brilliant colors. Near the back, a couple presided over the area from throne-like chairs with presumably married couples seated directly in front of them. The wives sat firmly upon their husbands’ laps. Morrigan was happy to discover that her information so far seemed correct. Uploads tended to only be as good as the researchers writing them.

By their long hair and tunic style clothing, the local men appeared very much like the Old Earth Viking Era. Her father had insisted she learn about Old Earth history, convinced as they left their home world that the environmental problems would soon kill it. The old planet lingered on though. The married women could be heard laughing at the spectacle of those barbarians too young to participate in this year’s festival, as they shouted and posed for the prospective brides.

Morrigan swallowed nervously. Some of the bridal candidates in front of her modeled before the watching crowd, twisting and preening for attention. She had the sudden urge to walk around them in an attempt to avoid the stage the docking platform had become. Normally she was on the sidelines watching, blending into the crowd to take her notes. Here, she was the one being watched. Dealing with slime-dwelling slugs was one thing—but humanoids? And not just any humanoids—strong, virile, women-starved, healthy, male humanoids. At the last minute, she remembered to snap a picture of the married couples and of the campgrounds.

“Oh, my!” Gena exclaimed breathlessly, leaning forward to peer over Morrigan’s shoulder. “Do you see them, Rigan? With men like that, who cares if you marry the gardener?”

Morrigan followed the woman’s eyes, curiously looking down the docking plank to the ground. The men standing below them were indeed handsome. Although those behind the grooms laughed and continued to pose their muscles, the true bachelors held perfectly still. Their bronzed bodies were like statues, with only their lungs expanding and contracting to show they lived. Morrigan likened their breathing to that of a wild beast in a cage, just waiting to pounce on their captor the minute the door was opened.

She was supposed to walk down the aisle framed by predator flesh?

Morrigan wanted to run back inside and hide. Her heartbeat quickened and her feet refused to move. The men were looking up at them. Black leather masks covered the grooms’ faces, hiding them from forehead to upper lip. Their lustful eyes shone bright from the eye slits, like liquid metal.

Or was that her overactive writer’s imagination? Morrigan wasn’t sure.

“Go.” Gena gave her an irritated shove, forcing her to descend down the plank. The crush of brides behind her kept her from stopping, though her feet tried. There was nowhere to run.

The closer she walked to them, the worse her heartbeat thundered. The Draig males were every inch the proud warrior class they were rumored to be, some even towering nearly seven feet in height. Fur loincloths wrapped around their fit waists to leave bare their muscular legs and chests. The fire glistened off their smooth, oiled skin. Golden bands of intricate design clasped around sinewy biceps as if to draw attention to their brute strength. All the self-defense moves in the universe wouldn’t stop one of these warriors if they wanted to spring forward and grab her. Crystals bound with leather straps hung from their solid necks. A few of them started to glow and the moment they did their owners would smile.

Morrigan’s heart pounded harder, partly in fear and partly in excitement. The sexual frustration on the ship had been potent for the last month as the women talked about nothing but men and weddings. Until that moment, Morrigan had been able to resist its lurid pull. But there was something to being at the campground—something erotic in its smell of burning wood and its rustic, yet colorful, sights. Primitives would not have cameras recording their deeds, not like more civilized places. If one of these men were to grab her hand and lead her away to the nearby trees no one beyond this festival would ever know.

Music played primal and earthy in the background, hypnotic, enticing, gyrating in its rhythms. Captured by its spell, she suddenly realized she was walking down the aisle of hot flesh. The heat had to be coming from the grooms. How else could she explain the sudden rise in her temperature and the dizziness in her head? They were so tall that the crowd behind them disappeared from view, except for peeks of movement between arms and waists. She glanced to one side and then the other. Her heart continued to race. Blood rushed inside her ears, deafening her.

Somehow, her feet managed to keep moving, propelling her forward in line as if following the woman in front of her was her only option. The watching crowd had quieted as the bachelors studied their choices, concentrating on them with their serious eyes and harshly pressed lips. Only when and if the glow started around their necks did the men relax.

Morrigan was halfway through and no one had yet to seize hold of a bride. She started to sigh with relief. Then her heart—and time—stopped. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes held a solid blue gaze beneath a mask. The crystal around the man’s neck began to pulse and glow with a white light, illuminating his face. His eyes narrowed and a slow, leisurely smile commanded her attention to his lips.

The cool night breeze caressed the tops of her breasts, as real as a hand against her skin. Chills worked their way over her bare throat and face. Her hand lifted without her commanding it to, as if to reach out. It was held back by the silk shackles of her belt.

Blinking slowly, the man nodded at her in greeting. She turned her head to watch as she passed by him. His smile dropped from his features, replaced by passionate intent and electrifying promises. Morrigan shivered as her heart began to race anew.

As she moved forward through the remaining line of men, she looked around. She wondered at the curious feeling in her veins as she thought of the connection she’d shared with the blue-eyed barbarian. She wanted to look back once more, but her neck refused to turn. He was like all the other grooms and yet somehow different.

The others were handsome, but none caught her notice or returned her gaze for very long. Making her way to a raised platform laden with a gigantic feast, Morrigan forgot all about the emerald on her finger and her newspaper chip assignment. Male servants greeted them, their faces open and kind and a little curious. But none were as spellbinding as the man with the radiant blue eyes had been.

Ualan of Draig smiled as the human woman walked past him. She was clad in his people’s traditional garb. The short, blue veil fluttered over her dark locks. His bride had hair the color of night and wide eyes that he would gladly spend the rest of his life gazing into. The material of the dress wrapped around her body, hugging her curves in a way that made a man ache when watching it.

Whichever ancestor had conceived this wedding tradition had been sadistic. To have his destiny right there within arm’s reach and unable to hold her was torment. Already he was tortured, his shaft tight with longing beneath the loincloth. Slowly, he felt a change beginning inside of him as the crystal around his neck glowed with untold promises. Ualan smiled. The gods had indeed been kind to him. Why wouldn’t they be? He did his duty and lived a good life and she was to be his reward.

As her hand lifted to him, he was surprised. The brides rarely moved, except to walk, while inside the Procession of Finding. If they did, it was ultimately considered a good omen, though some of the elders believed it meant for a hard beginning. Ualan was optimistic. His marriage would surely be blessed. His body had instantly felt the fiery bond between them when she looked at him. She felt it, too. How could she not? It was so strong she must have experienced it.

When the last bride passed, the Draig bachelors turned to walk in the other direction. They were abnormally quiet, as was tradition. Those who had been blessed needed to go to the temple and give thanks. Those who were not so fortunate needed to regroup, most would probably even shift into their dragon forms and run into the forest to be rid of their heartache. Besides, it was good to let the travel-weary women rest and eat. For those who were chosen by the crystals, it would be a long and pleasurable night.

Chapter 3

The feast had been set before the brides, laid out on large trenchers and spread over a long wooden table, like the offerings of a community potluck. The locals dined on their own around the campfires, as they kept their distance from the prospective brides. Morrigan saw some of the wives feed their husbands by hand. Others kissed, or laughed at a private joke, or touched hands. It was a collection of intimate scenes played out on a public stage.

Curious, she let her gaze roam over the campground. The bachelors were missing. She had been in too much of a daze to see where they had gone off to. The dreamlike fog had astounded her at first, until she had determined it was just nerves. She was used to watching the spotlight from the sidelines, not being in the middle of it, and that much virile male attention was bound to make any woman lightheaded.

Morrigan was hesitant to taste the roasted two-horned pigs and blocks of Qurilixian blue bread with whipped cheese. Though it smelled wonderful, she had never partaken of an alien meal that wasn’t first purified in a food simulator. Thinking of all the extraterrestrial parasites that might be in it, she held back. She had done a story on the Da’Na parasite once. Gus had needed a reporter and she’d been the closest one. Though relatively harmless to non-humanoids, what those little critters did to their human hosts hadn’t been pretty. Thinking of the popping stink pustules she had been forced to photograph on the crash survivors, she gagged. If she never went back to the planet of Divan it would be too soon. The memory alone was enough to keep her stomach from rumbling.

Servants carried pitchers full of a strange berry wine, calling it, “Maiden’s Last Breath,” as they offered it to her. Though she had a newspaper-issued universal translator implanted behind her ear to help her understand several main languages, the locals here spoke the more universally known Old Star language. She was glad, because she doubted the translators included the Draig vernacular. Thinking the liquor would definitely kill any adverse critters floating in the drink, she tried it. The sweet taste was intoxicatingly wonderful.

Most of the brides dined in jittery silence. However, a few of the more boisterous flirted with the handsome servants, who were presumably too young to participate as grooms, and who were more fully clothed than the bachelors had been. Since it was hard for the brides to lift their arms, the attractive servants retrieved anything they desired. Some even went so far as to offer the women food by their own hand.

The sparkling glint of the emerald on her finger caught Morrigan’s attention. She realized she’d spent most of the meal without taking a picture or video feed. How could she have forgotten her assignment? Setting down her goblet of berry wine, she put her hand under the table and pressed the emerald once to begin recording.

Looking again for the men, she leaned to Nadja at her side and asked, “Where do you think the grooms went off to?”

Nadja jolted, as if surprised to hear Morrigan speak. Lifting her glass, the woman began to answer but was cut off by the servant who rushed to fill her half-empty goblet. Nadja again gave a startled jump in her seat at his sudden appearance, but let him do his job. Poor woman. She was a nervous creature. It didn’t take the observations of a reporter to know that the reserved Nadja wasn’t used to the primitive scene before them.

“They go to make an offering to the gods,” the young servant answered Morrigan. Nadja lowered her goblet to the table when he finished his task. The servant topped off Morrigan’s goblet, urging her to drink with a wave of his hand. Morrigan smiled at him, trying not to focus her eyes on a thin scar across the tip of his nose. “They ask for blessing this night in finding a wife.”

“I thought that is what the bridal procession was all about,” Morrigan said, thinking the servant’s superstitions adorable.

“The Procession of Finding reveals the gods’ will but does not guarantee a match.” The servant didn’t move away. He looked down at her drink, again urging silently for her to drink it. Morrigan lifted it and took several obvious gulps. The servant grinned and walked away to attend some of the other ladies in need of more alcohol.

“Are you nervous?” Nadja asked in a hush when they were alone. She didn’t wait for Morrigan to answer as she giggled apprehensively. “I can barely sit still. I think this drink has a lot of liquor or something in it.”

Morrigan’s head had become a bit light, but she continued to drink anyway, knowing it would take more than a little wine to get her drunk. However, as she finished her goblet and a fog began to edge the sides of her vision, she rethought her assumption about the drink and mustered up her courage to try the blue bread. She hoped it would soak up the liquor and keep her level. She wouldn’t be able to write her story if she were too drunk to remember what happened.

“Rigan,” Nadja whispered. Morrigan looked over at the woman’s pale face. Her blue eyes danced around in her porcelain skin. Leaning forward, she said, “I’m scared. I think I’ve made a mistake. Do you think they would let me go back to the ship?”

“What’s wrong?” Morrigan had spoken to the woman a few times, but mostly Nadja had kept to herself.

“I…” Nadja paused and shook her head, seeming very close to crying. “They’re very big, aren’t they?”

“Who, the men?” Morrigan asked needlessly. She thought of the magnetic blue eyes of the warrior who captured her notice in the receiving line, visualizing them as if he was before her. Oh, yes, the warrior men were very big.

“Yes,” Nadja’s wide eyes looked down as she swallowed nervously. “Do you think they will…will hurt us? They seem bigger than most humanoid men. This place is not what I imagined when I signed on. Actually, I don’t know what I imagined.”

Morrigan detected the note of innocence in the woman. “Nadja, have you been with a man before?”

Nadja shook her head, embarrassed.

“Not even a droid?” Morrigan insisted. She had known that she would have to get rid of her virginity in order to get her story. Though, to her disappointment, none of Galaxy Brides’ technicians had said anything to her about it, except to clarify her status as they went through her records. That wasn’t necessarily conclusive. It was possible they’d suspected who she was after the history scan. She could lie about her occupation, but her travel records were harder to fake.

“No.” Nadja swallowed nervously and her gaze roamed over the fluttering tents in the distance. Shivering, she admitted, “I was always too embarrassed to go to the clubs and try one. But, I’ve seen pictures. Do you think these guys are shaped differently than human males? The uploads were not specific as to their heritage.”

“I haven’t given it much thought. I think galaxy law requires the species to be, uh, physically compatible before they are matched up. Otherwise, the marriage would do no good. We’re all humanoids. Besides, I hate to sound crass, but the whole point of this is so they can propagate their species.”

“I suppose,” Nadja said, not appearing to find comfort in Morrigan’s cold examination of their situation. The woman drank the rest of her wine. Without having to be asked, a servant was right there to refill it for her. Nadja drank that cup too.

“Did you ask any of the others?” Morrigan inquired when the servant had retreated down the table. She tried to keep the hopeful note out of her voice. “Have any of them said anything about not being with a man before? Or maybe having been with a man?”

“We’ve never discussed it.” Nadja shook her head in denial.

Morrigan forced an understanding smile. She’d bet Nadja found such subjects improper, and only said something now because she was scared and on her way to being completely intoxicated.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Morrigan assured her. “I hear several of the women have had their virginity replaced. So it can’t be that bad, can it? It hurts for a second, but no more than the series of shots they gave us on the way here.”

“I suppose you’re right, though I hadn’t heard that.” Nadja seemed to calm down and nodded her head. The ease didn’t last long. Suddenly, she tensed, staring in a way that made Morrigan turn her attention down the raised dining platform. Nadja’s voice left her with a breathy, “Oh!”

Oh was right. The grooms were back, walking toward their table. Slick, oiled muscles gleamed in the firelight. The fur loincloths hid very little. Morrigan fumbled for her emerald, bumping it several times before she realized she’d left it recording earlier.

Where there had been silence, music again filled the air. Its low rhythm was as sweet as a warm sun and as gentle as the wind’s caressing kisses. One by one, the prospective brides fell silent. The handsome warriors made their way to stand below the tables under the watchful gazes of the brides. The male gazes scanned and quickly fixed upon the women of their choice. Morrigan heard Nadja breathe anxiously, but she had no words to offer the woman. Her eyes had found those of haunting blue.

There were fewer men than before. Morrigan guessed it was because some had decided not to choose a mate. She blinked slowly, noticing again the strangely glowing crystal hanging on the man’s neck. A spark of intensity coursed through her as she looked at it. It was an electrifying fire in her veins, turning her blood to molten heat. Glancing about, she noticed that all the men present had a glowing crystal. She had little time to wonder as the blue-eyed savage who captured her notice began to climb the platform steps to stand before her.

Her head rolled back on her shoulders as she tried to breathe. Why was this handsome stranger looking at her like that—like she was a meal about to be devoured? And why was she suddenly enjoying his perusal?

Morrigan swallowed nervously, her hastened breathing coming harder now. She waited in eager anticipation, mind-numbed to everything around her. The man leaned closer. Her eyes swept over his naked, glistening chest—so smooth, so strong, so tanned—before moving unabashedly over his thick arms. A band of gold tightly encircled his biceps—arms that could crush, arms that could touch and caress and take without having to ask permission.

Then he spoke, his Draig-accented voice soft and deep. It was like crushed velvet to the skin, as he uttered simply, “I am Ualan. Come.”

Morrigan froze, licking her lips nervously. Her head swam with the effects of the potent berry wine. She never actually thought one of them would try to pick her for marriage. Men had never shown exceptional interest before, especially these types of men.

Come.

The word held such command, such finality. His eyes stayed locked on hers. Someone behind her must have carried a torch because she swore a golden light filled the blue of his gaze before fading back to normal. She forgot her newspaper chip assignment, forgot her editor, her self-appointed mission to find a scandal—any scandal.

Ualan’s hand rose, as if to touch her. She waited, eager to feel him and yet confused by the urge. Her skin pulled in his direction and her nerves tingled with a peculiar current that flowed from his body into hers. The wine swam violently in her veins like a mystical drug. Suddenly, Morrigan wondered if she shouldn’t have tried a more lifelike sex droid. Maybe the results would have been less clinical and she wouldn’t be so incredibly drawn to this man before her.

Some of the women around her stood and were led off in various directions, their movements drifting and slow. Morrigan felt Nadja get up and glanced over at her. The woman’s eyes were glassy and dazed as she was led down the platform. All of a sudden, Morrigan realized she was the only woman left sitting with a man before her. The un-chosen ones glared at her in angry jealousy. Her heart leapt in panic. She tried to speak, to let one of the others take her place. No sound escaped her throat.

Why was this man still waiting for her? She wasn’t going to go with him. He should have gotten the hint when she did not immediately obey.

Just as she was about to suggest he move to another, Ualan’s head tilted to the side in confusion. Placing his palms flat on the table, he leaned closer and glanced down at his glowing crystal before looking into Morrigan’s stunned eyes. He breathed deeply.

Morrigan leaned back. Did he actually try to smell her?

“Come,” he whispered, quieter than before. Though the tone was still soft, it was edged with the hard insistence of a command, as if he might forcibly pull her over the table at any moment. His eyes turned to liquid gold. This time it didn’t look like firelight reflection but a genetic anomaly. The gold threads swimming in blue pools were mesmerizing in their beauty. She didn’t want to look away.

His eyes narrowed, the skin around them tightening as he gave her a stern look through the mask. One of the un-chosen brides giggled. The sound pulled Morrigan from her trance. That was when she realized they were being watched. The music had faded. Married couples had stopped laughing, their faces frowning and serious. The men’s over-bright eyes focused curiously on her in a blend of expectation and incredulity.

All right, she thought. I’ll play along. Take me to round two.

Unable to resist, and unwilling to stay the center of all that attention, Morrigan nodded weakly and stood to follow him. The man’s full lips again tugged with a promising, yet hesitant smile. His eyes calmed and his tension rolled into relief. He nodded at her before turning around.

Ualan led her down the dining platform steps. Vaguely, she heard the laughter return to the gathered Qurilixian. Lively music resumed and couples began to dance around the bonfire pit.

Ualan didn’t touch her, but Morrigan could feel him pulling her behind him with an invisible thread. There was alien magic in the air, binding her footsteps to his, controlling her brain, telling her to follow him. Yet, she heard music and smelled the wood smoke on the night wind. Her limbs could move where she commanded them, if she commanded them hard enough. The stars glistened, seeming to swim around in her vision, and the moon was so big that it felt as if a searchlight shone on them from above.

Ualan said nothing as he led her forward over the dirt worn pathways. Her eye strayed along the barbarian man’s backside, hesitating at the gray fur loincloth hiding his ass from view. She swallowed nervously. Her hands lifted toward him, but were stopped by the silken ties.

Pyramid tents passed by her vision in a variety of colors. As she tried again to touch the fur covering him, Ualan turned to glance at her with a knowing smile on his firm lips that was reflected in his eyes. Morrigan jolted in embarrassment, blushing as she turned her eyes quickly away.

“Where are we going?” she asked, coming more to her senses as she shook herself free from the spell he cast over her.

Ualan stopped and turned around in surprise when she spoke. Even under the leather mask, she could tell he was handsome. He again glanced down at his crystal, momentary confusion passing over his hypnotic blue eyes. Moving near a tent, he tilted his head to the side, and said, “Come.”

Morrigan hesitated and shook her head in denial, not willing to follow his orders like an insipid female. She tried to leave. An unfamiliar sensation tugged inside of her, warring within her limbs. Part of her wanted to obey him, but her logical mind did not let her move forward. This was not part of the plan. This wasn’t part of her assignment.

Oh, but he was attractive in that accursed loincloth.

Around the campsite she could see the chosen brides ducking into the various tents with hardly a protest. She heard shouts of merriment drifting about on the breeze from the married couples in their own celebration. The bonfires still burned bright, music still played, encouraging people to dance in celebration. Morrigan had yet to see the musicians.

The curse of an inquisitive mind overcame her and she had the strangest urge to go exploring. When else would she get such a chance? Beginning to take a step back from the tent, Morrigan said to Ualan in growing distraction, “Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Ualan followed her eyes to the table where the married couples sat enjoying each other’s company. His jaw tensed as she tried to move away from him.

“Come,” he ordered, his tone growing harsh.

“Relax, buddy,” Morrigan eased, with no intention of following him back to his quarters for a private party. That scenario ended the same way on every planet. Give the girl some wine, grunt “me Ualan, you pretty, come”, and wouldn’t you know it, you had yourself the makings of a private orgy and a killer hangover.

No, but thank you just the same, caveman, Morrigan thought with an amused laugh.

“Look, I’m sure you’re a swell guy and all,” she began, her tone patronizing as she refused to look at him. It was easier to control herself when she didn’t make direct eye contact. She started to move away.

Morrigan, realizing that she had left her ring on and it was still recording, was about to touch the emerald when she felt a hand on the back of her neck. Closing her eyes at that first warm caress, she nearly collapsed. His callused fingers dug into her long hair beneath the veil, pulling her forward. Her knees weakened. Her face turned and rested against his palm. She was no longer interested in the campsite when she saw his face hovering close to hers.

It was insanity. He was a stranger. She was in outer space on a primitive planet to do a story. If she was smart she would run away from him. Her legs wouldn’t move. She was stunned by him, captivated.

All right, so suddenly she wasn’t very smart.

Ualan held her back from his warrior-toned flesh, but she could feel the warm invitation radiating from his nearness. She smelled the exotically bestial scent of him—so primal and raw. She licked her lips. Seeing the response, Ualan smiled, although he still looked baffled by her hesitance. Or was it something else she saw in his eyes? Fear? No, this godlike creature was too much of a warrior to fear her. Morrigan could be sure of that. Self-confidence radiated from his very nature.

“Come,” he said softly to her, pleading, urging her with that one simple word. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his smooth cheek tenderly to hers. The whispering caress sent her heart a-fluttering. With more authority straining his thick accent, he insisted again, “Come.”

Morrigan lifted her hands, this time able to touch his waist. She wanted to go with him. Who would ever find out? What could be more perfect? Tomorrow she would be gone and he would stay here. There would be no complications, no heartbreak. Only, would he expect her to marry him? It wasn’t as if he loved her. Surely, he wouldn’t be too disappointed when he discovered she was gone. He could always find someone else at the next festival.

Ualan’s skin was on fire, blazing with an animalistic heat. His finger rubbed over the pulse at the base of her neck. Morrigan trembled at the stroke. She waited for his kiss—sure she would die if she didn’t feel his mouth on hers. It didn’t come.

The tall warrior pulled back, looking deeply into her eyes. Then, glancing around the campsite as if determining whether anyone noticed them, he drew her forward, pulling gently at her neck to make her walk. Once her legs moved to follow him inside a blue-gray tent, she could not stop them.

“My king, the brides have all entered the tents.”

King Llyr looked up from where he nuzzled his wife’s throat. The royal couple shared a loving smile. The queen’s eyes glistened in pleasure with the playful hint of a shift. The night was warm and his wife’s body soft. All of their sons had been blessed this glorious evening with brides, as had at least three of their nephews.

“Thank you, Mirox,” Queen Mede answered for her husband. The servant bowed and left. When they were alone, if being raised over the celebrating crowds on a platform could be considered alone, she directed her thoughts at her husband so he could hear her words in his mind as she softly spoke them, so they wouldn’t be overheard, “The only thing that would have made this night better, is if all four of our nephews had found brides as well. I hear one of their crystals did not glow. I can’t imagine the disappointment poor Mirek must be feeling. He has tried so hard to find a bride and to continually not be blessed.”

“We have to trust that the gods have a plan for him,” he answered in the same way.

“I did not think I would feel so anxious. It will be a long night for the grooms, but an even longer night for us as we wait to see the outcome.”

King Llyr chuckled and leaned to kiss her. “I think these grooms have it easy. Do you remember our wedding night, my love? You are even more beautiful now than you were then.”

“So long ago,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “To think I almost didn’t marry you.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” he answered. “You could never resist my charms.”

The queen laughed. “If that is how my king wishes to remember the past, so be it.”

“Tomorrow we will extend our family. Our boys are good men, strong and true.” Though the king would never admit it, he too was both nervous and excited for his sons and nephews. This was a big night for them, perhaps one of the biggest they would ever face. For what good was living if a man did not have love and family. King Llyr looked at his wife. Hundreds of years they had been together and his love for her had never wavered. She was his heart. She still took his breath away. “Erase that motherly worry from your face. The borderlands are being patrolled. The Var king would not dare to cross over on this night. The war will not spill over onto our happiness. Not tonight.”

“But this night is different. Our sons… He—”

“I am sure they will all be blessed with good fortune and we, my queen,” King Llyr kissed the tip of his wife’s nose, “will be blessed with many grandsons and grandnephews.”

“I hope you’re right, my love, I hope you’re right,” the queen murmured, content to let her husband pull her fully into his embrace.

There was nothing they could do but wait until morning and King Llyr fully intended on taking advantage of the night.

Chapter 4

Morrigan’s fingers itched to pull the mask from Ualan’s features, to better study his face. With a body like his, his features could have been scarred ugly and the girls would still have come running. He walked backward into the tent, taking her with him lest she try to move away again.

Leaving her standing alone in the middle of the tent, Ualan went to draw the front flap closed. Morrigan shivered. She wasn’t such a fool as to pretend she didn’t know what he wanted from her, looking at her with his come-hither eyes and touching her with his caressing hand. She had never really gotten this far on a date before, and this had to be the shortest date in recorded history. For all his abrupt words and evident physical strength, he didn’t feel menacing or lecherous.

The tent was very big with fur rugs laid out to cushion the dirt floor. Torches had been placed near the walls. She eyed the fire to make sure they were safe so close to the blue-gray sides. An immense bed sat in the middle as the unmistakable centerpiece. It was covered in satin and silk. Gauzy runs hung from the top of the tent to surround the furniture in a dreamlike haze.

Around the edges of the tent, at the three pyramid corners, were three very different arrangements, all blatantly erotic and hard to ignore. In the first corner sat a giant basin full of steaming water, surrounded by silk gauze curtains, and an array of bottles. The tub was large enough to fit both of them easily.

The second corner held a high back chair, leather binding straps, iron shackles, and an assortment of whips. Morrigan shivered anew. She had to turn away quickly, too embarrassed to be caught showing too much interest in the barbaric set up.

In the last corner, there was a relatively safe table of food and wine.

“Choose,” Ualan breathed near her ear.

Morrigan jumped, not realizing he had come so close to where she stood. Goosebumps tickled her flesh. She blinked, her head whipping around to study his face. The mask hid him from view, but it could not hide the lust in his eyes or the command in his words as he waited for her to act. This warrior reeked of potent sexuality.

“Ah, yeah…” Morrigan began, biting her lip. Thinking that the last table was the least threatening, she moved toward the food. A tray of chocolates, with nut toppings, was delicately arranged into a pyramid of temptation—probably out of one of those old, recalled food simulator units because true Lithorian chocolate was very expensive. There was fresh fruit, looking like strawberries, but deeper in color and much larger, with a brown cream sauce.

Morrigan ignored the sweets, grabbing a goblet of wine instead. She drank it in two gulps, sputtering it out in a mighty blast when she felt a hand graze lightly over her bare shoulder.

Ualan slowly picked up a chocolate and held it out for her to taste. She shook her head in denial. “Food simulator chocolate is known to make humans sick. You shouldn’t serve it.”

He turned the Lithorian logo toward her to show her it was the real thing.

“Oh.” Morrigan tried to take the offering with her fingers, but he gracefully eased past her hand and stuck it in her mouth. He watched in puzzlement, as she jerked away from him and shuffled nervously around the table out of his reach.

“Thanks, I can get it from here,” she mumbled around the large piece. Chewing the delicious morsel, she swallowed it and licked her lips, before wiping her mouth on her hand.

Ualan tilted his head in question.

“Listen,” Morrigan said. “I—”

“Shh.” Ualan shook his head. His eyes closed briefly, and when he again looked at her it was with a perplexed expression. Morrigan thought that for a man of many actions, he wasn’t a man of many words. Softly, he said, “Your name.”

“This isn—” Morrigan began, frustrated when he cut her off.

“Name,” he stated like an order, turning more serious. His arms crossed over his chest. She wondered if he knew how forbidding the stance made him look.

“Rigan,” Morrigan answered loudly in reaction to his hard tone, only to correct, “I mean Morrigan Blake. But, you can call me Rigan, everyone does.”

Should she have said her real name?

Did it even matter at this point? She wasn’t finding even a hint of a scandal worth writing about.

Pleased by her response, he nodded in approval and tried to reach for her again. Morrigan continued to ease away from his grasp as he rounded the table for her. He stalked her like a beast, his eyes intent and focused on her every movement.

“Now, if you please, I’ll be going,” Morrigan said, slowly making her way to the tent flap. She thought about running for the exit, but pictured him easily pouncing to catch her. “Thank you for everything and good luck with that wife finding thing. I hope it goes well for you and I wish the two of you many years of marital blissfulness.”

Morrigan did her best to smile as she lifted her hand tentatively. The gesture was more one of protection than of departure. He kept his hand out to her, as if he expected her to obey the silent command to go to him. The intensity of his molten gaze reminded her of a wild creature.

“It would not please me,” he uttered darkly. He dropped his hand and sighed in mounting frustration. Looking down at his crystal that shone brightly against his chest, he appeared bewildered by her rejection. There was a long silence, his stance challenging her to try and escape even as Morrigan knew he would easily overtake her if she were to run.

“Listen.” Morrigan tried to keep the condescending slant out of her tone, but it was hard. “I know you must be disappointed to have your little plans here spoiled.” She waved her hand over the erotically charged tent as she spoke. “But, no means no. So, better luck next time. There are plenty of other women out there who weren’t chosen by your fellow warriors. They would be most willing to come in here with you. I just don’t happen to be one of them. All of the other brides are eager to get bound—”

Ualan took a threatening step forward. Morrigan flinched as the move cut off her words.

“Back off, caveman,” she warned, going rigid and giving him her most withering glare. The look didn’t have the desired effect, as it solicited an arrogant smirk. Even so, it wasn’t amusement she saw in those deep blue eyes of liquid fire. He was livid.

What was she doing in this tent? Damn her constant curiosity to see just a little more. She should have stayed at the dining table with the other women. They were probably all back on the ship right now. What she needed to do was get some pictures, record some short useable clips and then crawl back to her assigned ship’s quarters for the trip home.

“Now, let’s just calm down a little, okay sparky,” Morrigan said, forcing her shoulders to relax. She eyed him warily, wondering if his grasp of the Old Star language was bad. That could explain the confusion. Slowly, she began to enunciate her words. “I do not wish to get married.”

He frowned.

“Now you,” she said as she pointed at him with her hand before walking her fingers in the air, “walk out there and find another woman from the ship. Grab her.” She shook her fist. “And lead her back to your bed.” By the time she had finished illustrating her words, she was gesturing at the bed.

He didn’t move.

“Do you understand?” she continued slowly, perhaps a bit too slowly in her ire.

His frown deepened.

“Great,” she muttered to herself. “Of all the warriors out there, I have to get the savage who can’t speak the universal language.” Eyeing him, she stated louder, “It’s called research, barbarian. You know, studying up before you take on a new task so you know what you are getting yourself into?” She paused. “Nothing?”

His frown turned into a full-blown scowl.

“I can’t talk to you, caveman. I’m sorry you don’t understand. I’m leaving.”

Spinning on her heels, she almost made it to the tent opening. Almost.

Ualan darted forward with the speed of a crashing comet. Taking her firmly by the shoulder, he stepped around her and blocked the exit. His eyes burned as he stared her down. It was either try to bravely mow him over or slowly retreat like a coward. Morrigan grimaced warily. She was definitely a coward.

Prince Ualan watched the woman before him. His whole body was tense with frustration. This is not how the elders foretold of the bridal night. He wanted to argue with her, but honor forbid it. He could only say as few words as possible when interacting with her. It was tradition. Maybe he wasn’t as blessed by the gods as he had been wont to think. This wench was proving to be the most aggravating of brides.

Why wasn’t she smiling at him?

He reached for her and again the timid creature nearly jumped out of her skin as if he might hurt her. Why would he hurt her? He wanted to marry her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, worshiping her, loving her, protecting her.

Ualan forced himself to calm down. Perhaps she was nervous. Her wide gaze kept looking over his body in a half-fascinated, half-wary sort of way. He knew she desired him. The crystal proved as much. Besides, even without the crystal, he smelled the effects of her desire. It teased his enhanced dragon-shifter senses.

The tents were rumored to intimidate some human women who had delicate sensibilities and were unused to a man’s attentions. Perhaps that was the reason she acted the way she did. Bluntly, he asked, “Have you been with a man?”

Morrigan gasped. She looked at him in a way that seemed both innocent and disarming. Her mouth worked, as she stuttered, “I-I…”

He tilted his head, waiting.

“That is none of your business!”

“Answer,” he urged patiently, heartened by her reaction because he thought to have his reason for her behavior. Being a male dominated race, his people were not so shy when it came to discussing sex. He had been warned that offworld women were different. When he instructed her to her new role, she would not be so shy—not that his vanity minded the way she blushed when he caught her looking at him like a starving mirascat.

“Answer,” she mocked, with a snarl. “Me Ualan, you woman—uh, uh.”

He let loose a long breath. His stiff mouth saying he was unamused by her humor. This woman was going to be a challenge. What had the gods blessed him with?

Have you ever been with a man?

He barely said anything to her, and suddenly that was what he wanted to talk about? Morrigan tried to nervously laugh it off, but then an idea struck her. Her lids dropped over her eyes as she looked at the ground and lied, “Yes, yes I have.”

Ualan had come forward before she knew what he was doing. Morrigan blinked in surprise as he stopped directly in front of her. All right, maybe that had been the wrong thing to say. It didn’t appear like he’d been dissuaded from his task—so much for the theory that the Qurilixian preferred virgins.

He leaned over her. His hand caught her arm in its callused grasp. Whispering against her throat, he said, “Then you have no reason to deny me. Choose.”

Morrigan shivered at his nearness. Seeing his lips so close, feeling his breath against her skin, she was tempted to give up the battle. The warmth of his body radiated over her. Naked flesh was so close. All she had to do was lift her hand. Why was she fighting him so hard? It wasn’t as if she had a lot of male suitors back home vying for mattress time. It wasn’t like she really had a home, or friends who didn’t double as her boss giving her orders. All she had was work. As much as she loved her job, words on a screen could make for cold companionship.

She hesitated before answering and was about to allow him to kiss her when she saw his arrogant smirk. He thought she was some simple alien woman he could seduce with a nice smile and come-hither eyes. She’d met his type before. So much for giving in. Like she would let some primitive barbarian get the best of her. Oh, the battle was on. Now it was a matter of principle.

Morrigan didn’t care who this caveman thought he was. He could be the King of the Seven Galaxies for all she cared. You just didn’t treat women like a piece of steak to be pushed around and chewed on at will.

“You don’t understand,” Morrigan said. “I’ve been with several men. In fact, that is what my job is back on New Earth. I’m a prostitute.”

Take that, Ualan, Morrigan thought, hard-pressed not to laugh when her words sunk in. The mean ole barbarian didn’t like that one, did he?

“So, you see, you don’t want me.” Morrigan’s pulse raced. She was scared of him, but also intrigued by the assurance of his stance. She tried to pull away. He didn’t let go of her arm.

Her will weakened against the teasing promise of his lips as he moved closer. His piercing blue eyes studied her. The virile scent of his exotically oiled body did little to calm her racing heart and heating skin. Her words not as confident as before, she continued, “Why don’t you just wait another year for a virgin if you don’t like the other women here tonight? Surely you’ll have first choice since you struck out this year.”

Morrigan needed to get out of the tent and work, but her eyes begged her to stay for just a moment longer so they could look at him. In light of his touch, work didn’t seem so important. Her body wanted to stay and her mind…well, her mind was undecided. Since work was her life, Morrigan was puzzled by the revelation. Maybe it was the wine. That had to be it. She was just a little drunk.

“The crystal does not lie,” he stated, the confident words gruff. “The gods have spoken.”

“What…?” Morrigan glanced around his neck at the glowing pulse of the crystal. Instantly, she felt its power over her—tempting, inviting, demanding—just like its wearer. Her blood sang with the powers of the Qurilixian wine. In contrast to the wine on New Earth, the Qurilixian blend did not exactly encourage sleep. “I don’t believe in your go—”

“Silence.” His hand slid insistently over her arm, pushing down the silken strands woven around her limbs to hold them down. His thick accent rolled over her. “You question too much. You want this. Make your choice.”

Morrigan swallowed nervously. He appeared very sure of his hold over her and her attraction to him. She opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out. Ualan abruptly pressed his lips to hers in a bold kiss. His tongue parted her lips, drawing in her bottom lip to suck gently.

Her rebuttal turned into a moan of surprise. Ualan growled, pulling her fiercely to his chest. Every hot, oiled inch of him molded to her skin. Her desire sparked into a white heat that flowed through her bloodstream, strong and potent.

The thin material of her dress was no match against his fire. This was insanity and Morrigan knew it. She tried to fight his touch, tried to pull back, but her brain kept begging for just one more feel, just a little longer, just let him touch you a little longer, longer…

Breaking free of her mouth, Ualan stared brazenly at her chest. She tried to calm her breathing but her lungs heaved with deep pants. He smiled, licking his bottom lip as if he could already taste victory. With a purposeful gesture, he flicked at the strap holding her gown up. It slid off her shoulder.

“Choose,” he commanded her.

Morrigan looked around the tent, intrigued by the hot water, drawn to the bed, shamefully curious of the throne. She couldn’t utter the words. She couldn’t decide. She couldn’t ask for it. She was too overwhelmed. Her body sung in ways she had never known possible. Between the wine and the power of the crystal and man, she couldn’t think straight.

“Wine,” Morrigan answered weak of breath and limb. Her hands trembled where they lay pinned against him, against the strong beating of his heart. She tried to push. It was a sorry effort. He was too strong, too tall, too overwhelming. “Please, can you go and get me a different wine?”

His mouth opened as if to protest. Morrigan felt his fingernails clawing lightly at her back. She put her hand to his firm lips to stop him from speaking. Almost desperate, she looked up at him. She needed to clear her head.

Lying, she promised, “Go, I bid you. Then, when you get back, we will finish this—all right?”

Ualan glanced over her body with a low growl of barely contained passion. His stomach tensed. Slowly, he nodded and released her.

Morrigan’s flesh jumped in instant protest. Her body ached. Her thighs and stomach quivered with denied need. Her breasts were swollen with the anticipation of his touch. She watched him stride from the tent, as he took her at her word.

“Oh.” She exhaled a long breath, too stunned for a moment to move. “The corporation said nothing about meeting you.”

Chapter5

Morrigan slowly came to her senses, as she stared at the exit where Ualan had disappeared. Without the heat of his nearness, she shivered, suddenly chilled to the bone. Now that she was alone she could reason. The man’s very presence had a drugging effect on her senses. He was potent, raw sexual energy, a completely irritatingly dominating barbarian who didn’t seem to be told “no” all that often.

He was a strange man to be sure, acting on tradition and primal instinct. But what had she expected? He was a Qurilixian, not a New Earthling. He grew up around men, probably used to spouting orders and having those orders followed. Although they were almost the same genetically, their customs were completely different.

Well, Morrigan thought, with a wry twist of her mouth. Not completely different. Had it been the Middle Ages on Old Earth, we would understand each other fairly well.

Then again, with a body like that, why would visiting offworld women turn him down?

I’m not just any woman, Morrigan told herself. I am a professional.

When she was sure Ualan was away from the tent, she poked her head out of the flap. Seeing no one outside, Morrigan sneaked out into the night. She dipped behind the blue-gray tent and then raced to hide behind a nearby black one, before stopping to get her bearings.

Morrigan imagined a medieval Old Earthling would have spoken more, especially while trying to seduce someone. However, there was something dangerous and alluring about Ualan’s silent perusal. It was almost animalistic, the way he looked at her. As if he was unashamed of his desires and expected her to be unashamed of hers. What he didn’t say with words, she could read in his eyes and feel on her skin when he touched her, as if he put the thoughts into her flesh with his very will.

Morrigan frowned, vowing that, as soon as she got home, she was going to purchase the biggest blasted sex droid her savings could buy. Robo-boyfriend would put this barbarian to shame—she’d make sure of it.

“Do not fight it,” she heard a man say from within the black tent. “I can feel that you want me. You chose me.”

A woman’s throaty moan followed the confident decree. Morrigan shivered, half-tempted to go back to Ualan’s tent and see what else his firm body had to offer her. It wasn’t like she had to get married to him or anything if they just had sex. And, who would know? Not her editor. Not anyone who mattered.

“Focus, girl,” she whispered to herself. “He’s the big lug who thinks dragging a woman off into the sunset by her hair is romantic.”

Morrigan heard moan again, this time louder. A shiver worked over her body. She wasn’t sure what she was planning to find out sneaking around outside. She had really thought there would be more talking and ceremony before everyone got to know each other so intimately. If this was dating, she really had been off the market a little too long.

Crossing quickly over to a green tent, Morrigan stopped near the opening. Seeing a narrow crack where the flap hung open, she couldn’t help but peek inside.

“Choose,” a man said.

Morrigan leaned closer, trying to see who he was with. What was with all this choosing? Did the Qurilixian Old Star language teacher have a serious vocabulary problem? It felt as if Galaxy Brides had purposefully misled them with talk of princes and royalty and instead sold them to a pack of wild barbarians—handsome, virile barbarians, but strange ones nonetheless.

“I-I can’t choose, Olek,” she heard Nadja answer. “Not yet.”

Morrigan saw a flash of skin as the woman moved past the opening. Soon, the man was behind her, his naked buttock flexing as he walked.

A dangerous jolt came over Morrigan. She knew she should turn away. But these men were just too delicious for the eyes. It wasn’t like she was a peeping-pervert. She was an investigative reporter. It was her job to observe the locals. Licking her lips, she tried to get another peek.

Ualan’s hand trembled as he tried to contain himself. He clenched it tight around the goblet he’d fetched for his bride. His lips tightened into a harsh line. She wasn’t in the tent. He had suspected in the very back of his mind that she would try to leave, though he was still disappointed.

She had most likely run back to the ship. His heart beat wildly. How could he have failed, and so soon?

Ualan pushed his way out of the wedding tent. Gripping the goblet, he looked around the immediate area and started for the docked ship to stop her from boarding. It wouldn’t be hard to track her. Even now he picked up her scent. He didn’t have to walk far before he found Morrigan crouched next to his brother’s tent.

He was a warrior and always up to the challenge of a good fight—although this fight made him want to growl in frustration. By all that was sacred, what had he done to the gods to deserve such aggravation? His crystal glowed. That should be all the proof she needed to make her choice. The sound of moans came from within the field of tents. Sexual energy rose in the air to torment him with what he should have been doing at that very moment, instead of chasing his woman around the festival grounds. At least she didn’t try to join the celebrating crowd. As a prince, he didn’t want to be seen pursuing his woman on this night. That would make his humiliation complete.

Ualan knew his bride fought what he stirred in her, that she denied her attraction. The only thing he didn’t know was why she fought it, why she would not simply choose him. They both understood why she was here. This was their wedding night.

He forced himself to relax. She was a mystery, one he would have to figure out. He didn’t have a choice. This is who the gods gave him.

Truthfully, he was unnerved by her admission of many men. He would just have to watch her very carefully. It would not do to have her play him false. It was rare that it should happen in a marriage, but it had happened, or so legends warned.

Ualan remembered how she melted into his kiss. It seemed there was a way to quiet her spirited tongue after all. She might fight him, but she was not immune to what they had.

He smiled as she leaned over to look inside Olek’s tent. Silently, he came up behind her. Forcing his voice to be stern, he stated, “You cannot run. The crystal will always find you.”

You cannot run. The crystal will always find you.

To Morrigan’s horror, the low voice came from behind her.

She jumped up in alarm. Spinning, she saw Ualan standing, wine goblet in hand. The crystal at his neck pulsed. At the same moment heat spread between her thighs and her nipples hardened like he’d touched them. Dismayed at being caught watching the other couple, she felt the blood draining out of her face.

“You don’t understand,” Morrigan said, with a feeble lift of her hand to stop his progress.

Ualan glanced at the tent opening and a smile curled one side of his mouth. He held out the goblet for her to take. He understood all too well what she had been doing. The blood came back, heating her cheeks with what had to be a bright, flaming pink that even the darkness couldn’t hide.

Morrigan refused to reach for the goblet because it would take her closer to his delectable body and she needed to keep space between them. She shook her head in denial. She was beginning to really hate the loincloth. How was she supposed to concentrate with such a distraction? She tried to ignore the powerful draw of his naked chest and ended up staring at it.

Ualan gestured that she should step away from the tent.

“It’s not what you think. My friend is in there and I wanted to make sure she was all right. She’s delicate and I don’t want your barbaric ways hurting her or scaring her.”

Again, his head moved but he said nothing. Why wouldn’t he just speak? When Morrigan did not reach for the goblet, Ualan let it slide from his hand. It landed with a soft thud on the ground, spilling the liquor into the dirt.

“Come,” Ualan said with a curl of his fingers. It wasn’t exactly what she’d meant when she wished he’d speak. Sexual intent burned hotly in his gaze beneath the mask. However, if she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she detected some anger in his tone, or was it exasperation?

Night not quite going like you planned, eh, barbarian? Yeah, well mine neither.

The crystal pulsed as if in answer to her thoughts. Morrigan’s blood roared to life in her veins. All the talk on the ship of sex, combined with the largeness of Ualan’s form, filled her head. A chant struck up in her brain, urging sweetly, what harm is there in one night? Just one night. Just one night. No one will know.

Treacherous brain.

Blast it all, most treacherous body.

Absently pushing the emerald on her finger to make sure the camera was off, Morrigan stepped forward. Resting her hand over Ualan’s heart, next to the crystal, she felt him tense beneath her palm. He studied her guardedly, as if he expected her to try something deceitful. Her eyes dipped down to look at the glowing stone. She didn’t dare touch it.

“Come.” This time the word was tender.

Morrigan nodded her head. He wove a spell around her senses. It was a deliciously wicked curse she could not be free of.

One night, she promised herself. No one will ever find out. Just one night.

Ualan’s eyes closed briefly and he sighed, as if relieved she was finally willing. Some of the tension he’d carried all night visibly eased out of him. Taking her by the hand so she couldn’t change her mind, he quickly led her the short distance through the pyramid-studded grounds back to his tent.

Once inside, he didn’t let go. He pulled her to him. His eyes shone from the slits of the mask, probing her. Pressing her fingers once more above his heart, he whispered, “Choose.”

Morrigan trembled. His heart beat beneath her fingers in strong, rhythmic thuds.

When she didn’t readily answer, Ualan groaned and took her free hand in his. Placing it on the fur loincloth at his waist, he showed her how much he desired her by boldly pressing her fingers along his potent erection. Almost like a plea, he said again, “Choose.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, thinking how strange these silent warrior men were. She didn’t move her hand from the hard press of his desire, nor did she leave the excited beat of his heart. Her fingers flexed, easing slightly forward to feel him, but not too much as to be brazen or inviting. Frankly, the enormous size of his cock terrified her. She looked over his mask with the sudden urge to rip it from his features, but part of the thrill was in not seeing.

Ualan grunted, rotating his hips against her hesitant fingers. His breathing became deep. His eyes closed. Hoarsely, he urged her to, “Undress.”

He did not wait for her to comply. His fingers met the flesh of her shoulders and with an urgent tug he worked the material off her arms. With another quick jerk, her breasts were freed for his viewing.

Morrigan gasped, drawing her hands away from him. He touched her chest, cupping the tender globes in his palms. His warm fingers melted around her, massaging her nipples as if they were the finest things he had ever held. Ualan licked his lips. His eyes stayed focused, almost possessively so, on what he did.

Morrigan tried to back away, but he pursued her. She batted at his hands. He ignored it.

“Stop,” she whispered. But, as her head rolled back on her shoulders and her mouth gasped for air, her body urged otherwise.

Ualan held back, not giving her body what it begged for. Finally, after thorough torture, his fingers moved over her soft skin to her hips. Freeing her completely of the Qurilixian gown, he stood back to look at her naked form.

Morrigan blushed, but did not back away. One did not pull away in a dream. The fog was all around her, encircling them. She didn’t want to wake up just yet. Emboldened by the isolation of the planet and knowing that after tomorrow she would never see Ualan again, she stepped forward.

Devouring his half naked body with her eyes, she hesitated before running her finger down the center of his throat, over his nipples and down his flat, tensing ribcage. Her nails tripped over the fur along his waist in an agonizingly slow journey across his stomach. Watching his mask, she saw his nostrils flare. His chest rose evenly and his eyes bore forward into hers. He didn’t stop her. In fact, it seemed he was silently urging her in approval while fighting his need to dominate. Turning her hand, she began the journey back up.

With a groan, Ualan expressed his displeasure in her change of route. Unflinchingly, his eyes gazed forward into her as he pulled the side of the fur loincloth, instantly freeing himself when she would not. Morrigan breathed deeply. Wide-eyed, she stared at his erect member. It looked nothing like the small protrusion on the droid. Her mouth went dry. Realizing she gaped at him, she quickly turned her gaze away.

Morrigan imagined him looking at her, those blue eyes taking in her full length. She tried to focus, tried to calm her racing heart. This is not who she was, or what she did.

“Turn,” he commanded, his voice hot with need.

Morrigan had been about to reach for her discarded clothing. His accent was hoarse, thick, tortured. How could she not obey? Her eyes met his, not daring to venture downward for fear she’d lose her nerve. He came to her, glorious and proud.

“Hold still,” he ordered.

It was a pointless command for she didn’t dare move. She whimpered as his finger touched her cheek. It trailed lightly over her forehead, between her eyes, down the slope of her nose, into the indention above her mouth. Her lips parted and he traced them in feathery caresses.

Soon after, the veil fluttered from her heavy locks. Her hair tumbled in dark silk waves over her shoulders, the weight of her locks still unfamiliar enough to cause her to notice. Ualan watched in obvious pleasure as she dreamily gazed up at him.

Keeping his touch light, he drew his hand over her throat. He moved in aimless circles, taking his time with each feature—purposefully stoking the flames of her desires, as he made her more fevered parts wait.

It was ecstasy. Every nerve inside her radiated around his touch. Her mind followed the fingers’ whispering movements. Her back arched, trying to push fully against his teasing hand when he journeyed down the valley between her breasts. Logic faded completely as the euphoric fog deepened.

Her eyes fluttered open, almost frightened to see the look on his face. He was concentrating on his fingers, watching them skate over her heated flesh as if this was the most important thing he’d ever done. His touch glided figure-eights around her breasts, coming closer to the center with each sweeping pass.

Morrigan moaned, overwhelmed by the passion she felt for him. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before, and being a star-traveling reporter she’d seen a lot.

Her hands disobeyed his order to be still and rose to touch him. As her fingers met hot flesh, his hand stopped and he looked up with a challenging light in his eyes. Morrigan quickly lowered her hands back to her sides. His fingers moved again, resuming their painstaking task.

The glowing crystal pulsed between them, giving off an energy that joined them. Just as his path would have taken him directly over the peaked buds awaiting him, his hand changed course, dipping over her stomach.

Morrigan tried to fight it, but couldn’t stop the small whimper of denied passions as it sneaked past her throat. Her fingers twitched uncertainly. Her breath came in pants. She felt as if she was drowning in a pool of turbulent sensations. He was dragging her under the tide of his passion, but she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to. She was his prisoner and, for the moment, nothing else mattered.

“Ualan,” she whispered. Morrigan trembled, uncertain of what to expect. She only knew she didn’t want him to stop.

The soft, feminine sound of confusion and surrender was more than the war-hardened Draig prince could resist. Ualan looked his fill of her naked form. His gaze took in her brightly painted toenails, her smooth legs, her athletic thighs, the divot of her navel, her strong hips, her lovely breasts, and slender arms. The soft dark hair of her nether region was cropped short and shaved into a narrow line that guarded her opening like a tiny regiment of soldiers defending a fortress. Oh, how he would enjoy ramming through that gate and conquering the softness within.

Mmm, and when her embarrassment had caused her to turn her back to him, he’d thoroughly enjoyed the view of her ass. It was all he could do to keep from tossing her on the bed and forsaking tradition. For a woman who claimed to have had many men, she wasn’t acting like it. Later, when the ceremony was over and they could speak more freely, he would have to teach her the dangers of lying to her husband. But for now…

What had started as a show of power quickly turned into a lesson in self-deprivation. He had to concentrate to keep from consuming her. Gripping her hair, he forced her head back, thrusting her breasts up for the delight of his lips. His mouth came down to flick the tip of a nipple. He thought to only get a hint of what would come with marriage. But he soon discovered one taste was never enough. Like a drunkard craving ale, he tasted her again. His mouth opened, taking a delicious nipple into its depths, swirling it with the rough texture of his tongue, nipping it with his teeth.

“Ah.” Morrigan shivered in response.

Ualan kept distance between their bodies, but all the while his mouth trailed kisses, moving over the valley of her breasts to give ample attention to the other side. When she trembled violently against him, he grinned against the creamy globe and pulled her closer.

He groaned, a low animalistic sound against her warm flesh. The dragon inside him was pleased by this course. His hands discovered the firm pleasure of her derrière as he held her stomach tight to the hard ache of his erection. When he dipped his hips down, the base of his cock pressed dangerously close to that guarded entrance. The searing heat he felt radiating against his balls made him do it again, just a little deeper.

Morrigan froze, as if suddenly afraid of his body’s demands. She started to pull away, as if the fire was too much for her innocent mind to process. He gripped her tighter, refusing to let her get away. Releasing her breast, he claimed her mouth in a swift, passionate embrace. Kissing her with the same fervor he had shown her chest, he tasted her lips before delving beneath the surface to suck her tongue into his mouth.

If he didn’t stop he would push it too far. He dipped his hips again. Naked flesh to his cock urged him to find a frantic release.

He couldn’t.

He mustn’t.

As abruptly as he started his full assault on her body, he ended it. Quickly pulling away, he grabbed his loincloth and wrapped it around his waist before she could even think to protest. He breathed hard, fighting with everything he had to remain strong. In that moment, he knew the gods planned to truly test him.

Morrigan blinked in confusion. Yes, she was not as worldly as she would have him believe.

“Dress,” he commanded softly, needing to hide her nakedness from view. A man could only withstand so much.

A cold chill swept Morrigan as she watched him avoid her direct gaze. His breath was calming faster than hers and within moments he didn’t look at all affected by what had transpired between them. In contrast, her body stung with the unfulfilled and burning ache he’d left her with. She couldn’t possibly begin to explore herself, to take care of her own needs, with him staring at her dispassionately like that. With a long, irritated growl, she began gathering the Qurilixian gown from the floor. Slipping it over her body, she left the belt ties off her arms so she could move more freely.

Combing her fingers through her hair, Morrigan searched for a hair tie. Not finding anything of use, she tied the locks into a giant knot at the nape of her neck to hold it from her face and off her heated neck. She refused to look at him until she had finished. When she turned around, he was gone.

Chapter 6

Ualan stormed through the encampment, too irritated to remain in his tent. His arms tingled with the desire to find a sword and lop off his bride’s frustrating, albeit beautiful, head. His lesson was finished. Any more and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. The smell of her passion filled his head. But the law was strict. Until the women chose, the men could not push it further than he already had. Surely, once he explained her refusal to choose, he would be pardoned for beheading her.

Actually, he knew better. Even now if she wanted, she could demand justice for his abandoning her in their tent and put him on guard duty for a month in the lowest level of dungeons. It was a dreaded task, often used as a punishment for small offenders. Spending such a long time in the dark was hard on those used to this bright planet—not because they were afraid, for they could see very well in the dark, but because the blue sun nourished them and gave them life.

“This is no place to be on the bridal night,” came an amused chuckle. “How do you expect to woo her if you aren’t near her? In case you forgot, prince, she’s supposed to take the mask off your face, not leave it on.”

Ualan stopped and turned to study a pair of beast-like green eyes shining at him. Agro was dressed in the traditional tunic and breeches of their people. It was an old style, one the men felt no reason to change. It worked well in combat and in practice.

Ualan’s jaw tightened in irritation, as he looked over his good friend. The man’s eyes dipped down over the prince’s oiled skin and loincloth in amusement. Ualan stepped forward, his eyes daring the man to laugh.

“I take it she hasn’t chosen,” Agro said smoothly, and with a curl of knowing humor to his beard-covered lips.

Ualan’s fist tightened in response. He was not allowed to speak.

Agro was already married and seemed to be enjoying the pleasures of the feast, as was evident by the drunken glaze in his eyes. But Ualan wasn’t fooled. He knew well that Agro’s senses were sharp.

“Your dragon is showing, prince,” Agro warned. “Remember, the unchosen brides don’t know we are shifters. It’s your father’s decree that we keep it this way.”

Ualan made a small growl of discontentment. He wanted to shift and run into the forest. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel so emotional.

“She will never be able to choose with you out here,” the man offered his sage advice as he started to move past. Then, suddenly, he stopped and smirked. Ualan knew Agro couldn’t help himself. “By all that’s sacred, you’re an ugly man, Ualan. Get back to the tents before you scare off our women, too.”

Ualan grinned wickedly at the taunt. A fight would do much to restore his good humor. He might not be able to speak, but he could act. Balling his hand into a fist, he rewarded Agro with a swift punch to the face.

The man stumbled back before nodding once. He gave a wide grin. “All right, then, little prince. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

Morrigan was furious. How dare he touch her like that and then leave as if it were no big deal? But, more than her fury, she was humiliated by the treacherousness of her body. One incredibly sexy look and she had crumpled to his demands, following his order like a Kintok sex slave.

Dress, she fumed. I’ll show you dressed, you big, overbearing caveman!

Satisfied that Ualan would not be coming for her again anytime soon, Morrigan crept to the tent’s opening. It was still dark out, but she knew this night would last longer than the nights on New Earth. That was why the Draig had chosen it for their Breeding Festival. She remembered it vaguely from her uploads—something about the moonlight making them aroused or some such nonsense. There might have been more data about it on the ceremony upload, but that’s the one she skipped. The other facts were still hard to sort through in her mind and took a little concentration to recall.

So much for accurate uploads from Galaxy Brides, she mused bitterly. Ualan had hardly looked aroused by her, at least not to the extent she had been by him. It shamed her to remember it. I should write a piece on inaccurate uploads provided to potential brides, and expose the cretin who made those things as a fraud who knows nothing about planetary or cultural facts.

To Morrigan’s surprise, she heard moans of pleasure still coming from various tents around the encampment. It would seem Qurilixian men were certainly insatiable, when they chose to be. She felt an unwanted stirring and an urge to turn around for just one more taste of Ualan’s passions.

“What is the matter with me?” Morrigan hissed to herself, comforted by the sound of her own voice. She would not put herself through that humiliation again. A loud scream of ecstasy pierced the air and she grimaced. “Galaxy Brides, my ass. More like Galaxy Sluts. All right, focus Morrigan, you have got to gather information—anything you can use to fluff up this romantic piece and make Gus happy.”

But saying it was harder than actually doing it. Unlike her other assignments, there was no clear person to interview. She had no idea who the royalty were or if they had even attended. The Qurilixian clearly didn’t believe in crowns or purple flowing robes—rather loincloths—to mark their aristocracy, so there was no pointed sign reading, “Here, look here, this is a prince.” For all she knew, the princes were amongst the ones who hadn’t taken a bride back to their tents. They could all be at home getting drunk and watching each other grow old. Not that she could blame them. None of the women on the spaceship seemed like royalty material to her—herself included.

Moving through the pyramids, Morrigan tried to make her way around to the married couples. But, when the tall throne chairs came into view, she was met with disappointment. No one was left at what she would have called the thrones. Sighing in frustration, she crept closer.

“Ah! Ah!”

Morrigan jolted in alarm at the high-pitched screech, her heart squeezing in her throat, only to relax as she realized the sound came from inside a nearby tent. In frustration, she shook her head.

Concentrate! she scolded herself.

Then, from the side of the bonfire, Morrigan heard a sultry laugh of a woman followed by the growl of a man. She crept forward in the shadows, careful to stay hidden from view.

A healthy specimen of female beauty came rushing forward, taunting her naked lover with her bared charms. Laughing, she threw back her head and made her way to one of the chairs before the fire. The man growled again, swiftly stalking her with unrefined, animalistic stealth.

Morrigan gasped. Her breath deepened as she watched the couple begin to make love before the flames. She couldn’t take her eyes away, though she knew she should. It was morally forbidden, what she was doing. But it was also erotic and dangerous and thrilling. Her blood began to stir and rush. Her flesh began to tingle and heat. Her lips went dry, eager for Ualan’s kisses to wet them once more.

The man caressed the woman’s skin in long strokes. His fingers tested her wetness. His lips savored her small breasts, worshiping. Then, turning, the woman braced her hand on the chair so her lover could enter her from behind. The man held back, biting and licking the flesh of her backside.

“Oh,” another moan from a tent.

“Argh,” this time it was a man from across the encampment.

“Mmm,” Morrigan bit her lips. Her body flamed. Her head spun in circles until she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think beyond her passionate flesh and churning desires, dizzy—so dizzy. It was as if a spell had been cast and she was the sorry recipient of it. What was happening to her? Her body was going crazy with passion and fire. The sexual tension was so thick that she imagined she could smell it.

True, before tonight, she had been on assignment in some of the most dismal of places, with creatures no human could possibly be attracted to. Her work often kept her from her own kind, making relationships impossible, except with other journalists who she had vowed never to become involved with.

The rare times she was on New Earth, she was always researching or uploading planetary facts into her brain, readying herself for her next assignment. Lack of personal experience didn’t mean she was ignorant. It didn’t mean she didn’t know. Out of all she had borne witness to, Ualan was the first man she had met that had ever stirred her senses to wakefulness, had brought her from one dream into another. And he did it all with very few, low-toned, blood-stirringly erotic words.

Come. Choose.

As Morrigan watched from her place crouched within the shadows, the man stood behind the woman. He grabbed her hips. Morrigan unconsciously touched her breast. Her heart pounded beneath her fingers. Inching with aggravating slowness, the man entered his lover. The woman gasped sharply and threw glorious waves of red-brown hair over her shoulder at him. The man grabbed the locks, using them to control her to his passion.

Unexpectedly, Morrigan felt a caressing hand on her arm. She shivered, instinctively knowing it was Ualan come to fetch her back to his tent. She didn’t move, dazed as her eyes strayed to the thrusting man’s buttocks, her ears jealous of the woman’s cries of passion.

Ualan pulled on her arm, forcing her to stand. She kept her back to him as his lips found her earlobe. The leather mask brushed her neck. The soft breeze swept over her heating skin. The thrusting man’s passions became louder and more claiming as he moved forcefully behind his screaming lover.

Ualan did not pull her back, allowing her to watch, not judging her for it. His people clearly were not inhibited when it came to such things. He continued to kiss her skin, nip at her earlobe and lick at her rapid pulse. His own eyes strayed to the couple. His hand fell from Morrigan’s arm, not restraining her to him, but for the tantalizing motion of his lips on her skin.

“How?” Morrigan asked, breathless. She couldn’t finish the thought as her hips started to mimic a light thrusting of their own accord. But they were frustrated for they thrust against air not solid, scorching man-flesh. How are you doing this? How are you controlling me?

Ualan misunderstood the weak question, and answered, “My crystal will always find you.”

Morrigan pressed her ass back into his erection. She felt the fur covering him and hated it because it kept him from her. The night was filled with passion, with unforeseen magic. It pulsed around the encampment, through the long night of the festival. It was in the air. It was in every fiber of Morrigan’s body, until she thought, it doesn’t matter. Tonight it doesn’t matter. Take whatever Ualan offers. Take it, live it, and then keep it secret. No one will ever know. Take it. Take. Choose.

As the fornicating couple climaxed, Morrigan closed her eyes, forgetting what she had sworn to moments before. She wanted Ualan to finish what he’d started. Maybe then she could think clearly. Desperately, she beseeched him, “Take me back to the tent, Ualan. Please, take me back.”

Ualan growled, turning her tenderly so he could lift her into his arms. He did it easily, his muscles folding protectively around her. The crystal still glowed, but she ignored it. She didn’t care if all they felt was its magical effects. Tonight, she would forget her logical approach to everything and believe in magic.

He did not kiss her as he walked, instead choosing to study her intently. Morrigan read a myriad of emotions on his face—the most predominant was passion. But, beyond that, hidden behind his eyes was a searching, a longing and an ache she could feel inside her breasts as if it was her own.

Chapter 7

Once back in the tent, Ualan set Morrigan down in front of him. He lifted his hand to her face, sweeping across the soft features. His gaze dipped to her breasts, watching them heave with each delighted breath. A wicked smile came to his lips and she suspected he contemplated punishing her for trying to escape him yet again. The idea sent chills over her.

Slowly, he stalked her, forcing her to back away. Morrigan glanced at the bed, ready for him to finally end this dance and take her. He forced her past the silken paradise that the bed offered. She touched him, but he brushed her fingers aside. Keeping his gaze fixed steadily on her, he continued to walk her back until Morrigan’s legs bumped into the edge of the bondage throne.

Ualan’s wicked smile broadened. His fingers moved from her cheek, down her neck to the pulse beating beneath her flushed skin. With a rip, he pulled her gown from her body, exposing her to his whim. Morrigan’s nipples peaked at the rough brush of material. He didn’t touch them, refusing to answer their beckoning call.

With a firm shove, he pushed her naked body onto the throne. His power excited her. Morrigan panted for breath, unable to stand once he towered so commandingly over her. This was his game and he was in control. Part of her wanted to fight him, to resist, but she was weak, a prisoner to his whims.

Ualan leaned close to her face, his hot breath caressing her skin as he moved his lips just beyond her flesh’s aching reach. The strangely erotic feel of smoothed wood, carved to mold the shape of her ass, caught her by surprise and she gasped as it teasingly spread her cheeks.

Ualan’s tickling breath continued lower, over her chin, down her jaw, between her breasts. His lips drifted over a ripe nipple, teasing it with a feathery kiss that sent a shockwave of passion through Morrigan’s limbs. She lifted off the throne, only to settle once more out of fear that he would stop.

His breath continued to tease her. Her neglected breast arched as he neared it, ready and waiting for a reward like the other had received. It was left wanting. Morrigan groaned as her hips pressed down on the throne. Her eyes sought his. She lifted her fingers to grab his hair and force him to her.

Ualan held back. With the swiftness of a striking snake, his fingers curled around her wrists and brought them hard to the arms of the chair. He held them there as she struggled. All the time he breathed on her, the hot, feathery fanning torment.

When she understood him enough to stop struggling, Ualan blew lower, over her ribs, across her flat stomach, around her contracting navel. Her legs spread, wanting him lower. His hands held her wrists hard to the throne, making it impossible to fight. Not that she could. Morrigan tensed her legs, waiting for him to get just low enough so that she could wrap him to her and force him to touch her.

To her agony, he did touch her. But it was not as she would have him. His tongue edged out from his firm lips—so slow, so distressing, so very painful to watch. She couldn’t look away. Her mouth opened wanting to feel his lips for itself.

With a tender lick that she felt in every concentrated nerve, he slid his tongue into her navel. Morrigan yelped, her body alighting with fierce excitement. Her legs worked, trying to find a hold over his shoulder, only to be blocked by the arms pinning her down.

Ualan’s tongue licked downward in a direct path to her seeking pussy. His tongue met the top arch only to circle around to the side. Morrigan protested, thinking she was about to die from the torture. He withdrew his tongue only to dart it forward freshly wetted. He traced the indent where her thigh met her sex. Morrigan tried to squeeze his head, desperate to control the controller. Sweat beaded her skin. She breathed hard, trembling and gasping, so close, so very close and yet she still couldn’t reach that ending she sought.

Her tormentor growled, pulling back from her. Morrigan was instantly sorry for her actions and she tried to repent by letting her legs fall back to the sides where he’d put them. Even so, how could he expect anything less? It would have been easier if he bound her limbs, instead of making her decide to behave.

Morrigan’s closed her eyes, trying to find some piece of sanity that would explain why his hand left her. She didn’t dare move. Keeping as he wanted her, she peeked from lowered lashes. Ualan stood proudly before her with his fur loincloth pooled at his feet. The length of his naked cock towered before her. He was shameless, waiting patiently for her gaze to make the journey back up his oiled body.

“Are you ready to choose?” he questioned when she finally met his eyes.

Morrigan took in his athletic form, feeling very much the hunting lioness about to pounce. She didn’t answer with words, hoping he would accept her stillness as a response.

His was a body formed of hard work and exercise, not enhanced by machines. There was vitality to him, a power and control she had not seen in other men. He was the proud warrior, the conqueror. And by the look in his eyes, he would soon be her conqueror.

There was also a tenderness in his expression and a searching that contradicted the warrior-barbarian in him. Gently, he kissed her mouth, rubbing his lips over hers in a soft caress. Morrigan couldn’t help herself. She moaned lightly against him.

Ualan pulled back and continued to study her for a long moment, his eyes taking in her every hitched breath. Morrigan had to look away, unable to understand the questions and emotions she found there.

Leaning over, Ualan picked her gown from the ground, stroking it several times in a way that made her wish it was her body he held. He then ripped the material apart, tearing it beyond use. Morrigan shivered. Without her clothes, she would not be able to leave him again. She was his prisoner.

Still caressing the material in his large hands, he came forward. His eyes stayed steady on his captive as he laid the material on her lap. Morrigan gasped as it brushed her heated skin. Then, taking a fine strip from the top of the pile, Ualan brought it to her prone wrist. His naughty smile sent chills over her. With a few deft movements, he tied her arm to the chair.

When he had tied her other wrist in the same manner, he stood. Morrigan tried to lift her hands, but the bonds were too tight. When she remained where he wished her to stay, he nodded in approval of his work.

Had she really wanted to be tied down moments before? She thought about screaming, of protesting, of doing any number of logical things. Yet, instead she silently watched him as he circled the bondage chair. Her neck strained as she tried to turn, but he again disappeared beyond her view.

“Where are you going?” she asked, breathless. “What are you doing?”

Suddenly, a blindfold was placed over her eyes from behind. Darkness surrounded her as he tied it behind her head. She listened for him, trying to see where he was, trying to sense if he looked at her. Then, a soft crack of a whip resounded behind her head. Morrigan jumped, thrilled and frightened. Her heart beat in erratic waves. Her mind swam with raw emotions. The whips cracked again, to her side, smacking loud against the wood like a hand to flesh.

Morrigan tensed, waiting for the feel of a strap to her helpless skin. Her eyes closed beneath the blindfold. The whip snapped again and again. Each time she jumped, sure that it drew closer to her anticipating flesh.

Crack!

The loud snap came next to her arm, not touching her. She jumped, straining against her binds.

Whoosh—crack!

It sung through the air to land behind her head. She jolted.

With each hit, her body grew tauter. The wood pressed into her ass—hard and unforgiving. Her body arched, strained from anticipation and fear. Then, gradually she felt a brush against her flesh. It wasn’t the beating she had expected. Her mouth shot open in surprise. She could not see Ualan but she could feel the tickle of his whip as he dangled it over her flesh.

Achingly slow, the tip was dragged over a nipple. Morrigan whimpered, panted, cried out softly. The fight left her until she was completely under his spell. Nothing else mattered but his will for her. She was tired of being in control, wanted to be free from decisions, so she let him decide for her. Who wanted to think through the sensual fog that now drifted through her mind? From beyond her touch-focused brain she thought she heard him chuckle—a sultry sound, dominating and demanding.

The whip tapped and stroked her flesh. It brushed her thighs, kissed her feet. Then, as he drew it away another smack sounded. A gush of wind blew around her thighs as the whip crashed between them on the wood. Morrigan moaned, liking the tiny vibration this action caused between her legs. She stiffened, too scared to move lest she get in the whip’s way, but eager for him to do it again.

Sweat beaded on Morrigan’s body. Images and bright colors swam in her brain, carrying thoughts of forbidden passion, of thrusting men upon their women, of women riding hard atop their men, of nails scratching into flesh, of Ualan’s fingers curling around her. Moisture gathered in her sex, wet and hot as her body begged for his touch.

When she did not protest his actions, he became bolder in his game. With a light smack he struck the whip against her calf. It stung the flesh but was not hard enough to hurt her. Leisurely, he slapped her other leg, moving to whack upon her thighs. The whip’s hard kiss brought the blood to her flesh, making it tingle and burn with excitement. Next, the whip snapped her stomach. Morrigan arched her breasts, wanting them to be next. He did not disappoint her. The whip hit her nipples, both at the same time. Its stringy tip felt like the slap of countless fingers.

“Yes,” Morrigan groaned, past her earlier embarrassment, urging him onward.

The whip struck her breasts again, this time more firmly.

“Ah, yes,” she panted, past the point of caring who heard her.

He smacked her stomach, following it with quick succession of blows to her parted thighs. The tips wrapped around her legs. Her hips jerked with each commanding blow.

“Ualan,” she pleaded. Morrigan was beyond anything but the feelings he gave to her. “Please, oh, please.”

Very pleased with her response, Ualan lightly hit her again. The other women in the campground had been making such desperate noises. This fact gave him hope. Finally, she was coming around to accepting him.

Morrigan moaned louder. He watched her body strain and tense. With her blindfolded, he didn’t bother to keep the subtle shift of gold out of his eyes.

Hearing his name on her lips, pleading for him to come to her, Ualan paused. It was almost more than he could bear. Unable to resist, he struck her heated center with his torturous pleasure. The blood rushed to the nub swollen with desire. Her hips bucked hard, spasming with the intense scream of a quickly approaching orgasm. Her body trembled. If he struck her again, she would continue up the rocky path of her climax.

But he did not strike. She was denied release. Ualan sat back on his heels to watch her. She waited, her body tensed and poised. Her mouth opened as if waiting for that moment she could give a climaxing scream. All Draig men knew this was to be a hard night, perhaps one of the hardest in their lives. Self-denial wasn’t something that came easy to a naturally assertive people. He wasn’t finished disciplining her yet. Before he gave her the gift of release, his little bride would know who controlled her, she would know she belonged completely to him.

Ualan tossed the whip aside. Kneeling before Morrigan, he lifted her weakened foot into his hand. She squirmed, absently working her body as if trying to get the will to move but unable to. He found the flesh of her leg, caressing in long strokes. She shivered. His mouth lowered to her foot, kissing her toes before sucking one into his mouth.

He didn’t stop. His mouth was insistently tender, soothing the ache he had whipped into her skin. He trailed his lips over her flesh, both legs, hips, stomach, and breasts but denying their sweet centers. His hands followed—rubbing and stroking. Morrigan strained against her binds. Her head fell back and she gasped for breath. Speechless, she writhed, panted, begged.

“Choose,” he whispered as he made his way to her neck. He paused in his task, his breath hard and heavy, giving away his matching torment. “Choose.”

All Morrigan managed was a whimper. Ualan continued a wayward path over her arms and then pulled back, unable to take much more. She waited, gasping for air. He did not resume his task. Instead, he untied her.

Ualan left her there, waiting for her body to calm from its disappointment. It had been cruel to bring her so far and not give her the release she sought. He was willing to risk a thousand years in the dark dungeon for the memory of her passion laden skin, but he would not risk dishonoring his family name to claim her like he wanted without her permission and the blessing of the council of elders. To do so would make him unworthy of a wife.

“Ualan?” Morrigan whispered.

She heard movement and discovered he had freed her. Her hands wound up into her hair, pulling the blindfold from her features with an exhausted tug. Hungrily, her eyes searched for him.

This barbarian was nothing like she’d suspected. Sitting back on his heels, again dressed, he studied her, watching with his cool blue gaze through the opening in his mask.

Vulnerably, she closed her eyes, reminded that he was a stranger. She didn’t even know his face. The words died on her lips unspoken.

Ualan reached to smooth back a tear, curiosity shining in his confused eyes. Without speaking, he stood, motioning his hand for her to do the same. Grabbing a large sheet from the side of the tub, he wrapped her up in its warm depths. Next, he led her to the bed.

Morrigan was too weak to think. Her body could not take another of his punishments. She was tired. Lying next to him, she hugged the sheet to her chest. She lifted herself up on her arm to study his hidden face. He stiffened at her look. Lightly, she stroked the mask, wondering what mysteries it hid from her and almost too scared to find out.

However, she was a journalist and curiosity was her curse. She wished he would reveal himself, wondering why he held back from her, wondering why he denied them both what he had wanted too. Suddenly, she cursed, wishing she had finished her uploads like a good reporter. She honestly thought she’d have time to fill in the blanks on the way back. She hadn’t expected Ualan. She hadn’t expected any of this.

His eyes narrowed at the sound of her soft curse, but he did not stop her gentle hand as she fingered the ties by the side of his head. His liquid gaze bore into her. She trembled and hesitated.

Looking him fully in the face, she said, “You understand that I can’t stay here with you. All the torturing in the world won’t change my mind.”

Ualan sighed in aggravation. He did not move from his place on the bed. His chest rose in even breath. The crystal still glowed, but not as brightly as before. Whatever power it had was waning some and she could think beyond physical need.

He studied her face, before tilting his jaw to her. “Choose.”

“I have a life away from here,” she continued, not knowing if he understood her. “Please, don’t touch me anymore tonight. I can’t take your punishments. I need you to leave me alone.”

Ualan didn’t move. His eyes grew sad, his breath shallow. Morrigan swallowed. Her life might not be perfect, but it was hers. Falling in love with a man like Ualan was insane, but it was such an insanity she was feeling the pinching affliction of. It was hard to explain and rationalize, but she felt as if they understood each other on a base level. He knew what she needed and had almost given it to her. When she needed to relinquish control to finally feel the depths of her pleasure, he had controlled her.

Better to be trapped away from this planet, than to be trapped next to him as a reminder of this night and these feelings, Morrigan thought.

Maybe she was still drunk from the wine. Maybe she was just too spent to think straight. She hadn’t slept well the last several nights and it was pretty late. “You understand, don’t you? Tell me you understand.”

Ualan said nothing. Morrigan’s fingers trembled. She pulled the mask slowly over his features. She was not disappointed. He was beautiful. His face matched his body. His nose was straight and strong. His cheekbones high like his people. Morrigan brushed a strand of hair from his enigmatic eyes, pleased that he did not stop her from finally looking.

Touching his cheek with her palm, she whispered, “Do you understand?”

Slowly, a smile found his lips. It was a pleasant smile, not mocking or demanding, not passionate or harsh. Brushing the back of his knuckles over her cheek, he returned her gentle caress.

“Yes, Morrigan,” he whispered, his voice soft. She could detect the slight tilting of his Qurilixian accent. His words were not stilted like before, but flowing with soft ease from his lips. She took in his face, committing it to memory as she had his body. She closed his eyes, forcing herself to relax next to him. An unexplainable sadness came over her, as she heard him whisper in acceptance, “You chose.”

When her body began to settle and her heart to slow, she opened her eyes. Glancing at the stranger at her side, she saw his eyes were closed. He respected her wishes and didn’t touch her. She was glad for it. Her body couldn’t take those emotions again even if it wanted to and right now her aching limbs definitely didn’t want to.

Ualan’s chest rose in even breath. His body nestled beneath the sheets, which molded to every naked inch of him. The light from the torches had dimmed by small degrees to a softened hue, but still gave off plenty of light to see by. Ualan was a handsome man, breathtakingly so.

Delicately, her hand hovered over his unmasked features. Her fingers dipped to touch him, but she hesitated and drew them back. She could not risk waking him. It was already clear that she had no power to fight him off and, if she looked into his penetrating eyes, she might be tempted to stay for another round. She peered at the bondage throne and shivered.

Ualan was glorious in his nakedness. He was carved firmly in all the right ways—from the intimate curve of his leg and ass to the strong arms and chest. Morrigan took a deep breath and held it. Everything around her was so surreal, like a dream. Any moment, she expected to wake up in her own small cubical apartment on New Earth, or in any of the various company space pods she used for travel. The space pod was more of a home to her than her own apartment was.

Looking around, she wondered what it would be like to live in such a place, with such a man. She doubted she could last on one planet, knowing that soon the wanderlust that had obsessed her since girlhood would eventually set in. And what would she do? Lay around waiting for Ualan to come and have sex with her—or almost sex?

Although the idea had merit in the short term, in the long run she would go crazy. She was a writer, a journalist. Her mind craved knowledge and excitement. Her intellect itched for facts, no matter how mundane they seemed to others. Her very nature yearned for more, always more. No, Ualan and this simple tent-sleeping life he led were not for her. She would just have to keep the sensations he caused inside of her as a memory reserved for lonely, deep space nights, when only the stars and endless distance were hers for company.

Sleep was too tempting to her troubled thoughts. Yawning, Morrigan closed her eyes and willingly let rest overtake her.

Chapter 8

Morrigan awoke to the humming of what she would guess to be a bird. It was an odd sound, soft and long, and very out of place in her dreams. Before opening her eyes, she yawned, stretching her tired limbs over her head. She felt like she had slept for an eternity. Though her muscles were tight and pulled angrily as she moved, she was more rested than she had ever remembered being. There was a haze to her dreams, a haze to…

“Ualan,” Morrigan whispered in surprise. Yawning once more, she turned her head to the side to make sure he hadn’t been a dream. He was gone and she was alone in his tent. The torn strands of her dress were lying on the ground as proof of the night she barely remembered. The memories were muddled by a cloud in her brain. It was as if she had been drunk, without the side effects of a morning hangover.

She rubbed her temple. The recorder stuck irritatingly to her dry eye. She tried to poke it free, loosening it with several blinks until it slid. Morrigan yawned again.

“Ualan?” she asked louder, her voice hoarse. She guessed he was gone. Morrigan sighed in heavy relief. She was glad he understood she was not staying. She had been worried he would make more out of their night together than he should have.

Rolling her neck, she noticed a pile of fresh clothing laid out for her on the end of the bed. They were more concealing than her outfit of the night before. It was a two-layered dress, but looked more comfortable than the harem gown. The under tunic was tighter fitting and light gray. It was the softest material she had ever worn against her skin. Sighing, she looked around for her undergarments. She found them ripped, so had to go without.

The over tunic’s sleeves were long, belling around the elbows. The dark blue-gray material was magnificent, laced tight at the waist and flowing out in the fashion of a medieval tunic gown. Silver embroidery edged the hemlines in an intricate local pattern, and in the center of the bodice was the emblem of a dragon.

Morrigan could understand how the rumors that the Qurilixian race was once from Old Earth had started. There seemed to be much medieval influence in their lives—from their dress to their penchant for long hair. She vaguely remembered some of the married men having Viking-like beards and braids. Perhaps alien explorers from long ago had carried the customs to them during those times? Or maybe the Qurilixen people were really decedents of Old Earth, displaced here—evolving differently with their environment?

Smiling, she slid the gown over her head. It was kind of Ualan to leave it for her. She made a mental note to thank him. If she was lucky, he would let her take it with her back home. She would like to have a keepsake to remember him by. Squinting, she fingered her emerald, and wondered if she had taken a picture of him. If not, she would have to try to do so before she left—for those lonely deep space nights.

The three suns of dawn shone over the red Qurilixian soil. The council of elders had gathered in the morning hours to observe some of the newly married men, taking their place of honor on the stage with the king and queen. King Llyr was one of the center figures at the council’s table. He was a fierce leader, one who had spent all of his reign at war with the neighboring Var. The stress he carried was from that constant fighting, but he never complained of his duties. The queen appeared gentle and refined, but Ualan knew his mother had a temper when provoked. His father often joked at how fierce of a dragon she’d been in her younger days, even claiming that once she turned into the creatures of myth and flew while spouting flames at him. None of the sons believed him of course, but the king was insistent she nearly burnt off all his clothes. Draig did not shift into the ancestral legend with wings and fire. They were more of a human-dragon hybrid, with super speed, enhanced senses and a hard shell of flesh that protected them like armor.

Now fully dressed in their more formal Draig attire, the new husbands, who had made it to this part of the ceremony, stood proudly before the council. It was a good day for them. The king and queen looked worried to see that only one of their sons had made it to the preliminary showing. But such a thing was not unusual. Some of the other grooms were missing as well. Though this part of the ceremony was an antiquated formal tradition, one they kept because it was how it had always been done, the elders let the absences slide.

“This has been a blessed year,” Elder Bochman stated to the gathered men. “The gods have given us more matches than usual.”

The brides were still in bed. It was expected they would be absent this morning if the men had done their duty by them. The wine would have helped them into a deep, relaxed sleep—once sleep was what they chose.

Seeing Agro in the watching crowd, Ualan grinned at him. Agro grimaced through his darkened eyes. The prince would have to remember to thank the man later for the fight, though he doubted his black-eyed comrade would think of his beating as a favor.

How could he not smile? Ualan had spent the entire night with a woman who would share his passions, his bed, and most importantly his heart. It was more than he could have hoped the gods would bless him with. Since boyhood they were taught to give offering for a steady and beautiful wife. Not all men would find such a thing. He was truly lucky. In light of this joy, his pride could even forgive her hesitance in choosing.

“Lord Ualan?” an elder called, waiting for his verbal confirmation.

Ualan stepped forward without his mask and looked at his father. The king nodded at him to speak. Even though he did not smile, Ualan saw the matching pride in the man’s eyes. The king was very pleased.

“It is done,” he stated loudly. A smile broke out on his father’s face, as if he couldn’t contain his excitement. The queen reached for her husband’s shoulder. She nodded at her son.

The wind whipped Ualan’s hair over his face, hiding the steady gazes of the council. Raising his hand high in their direction, he showed the glowing crystal and gave an arrogant toss of his head to better see. They acknowledged in silent approval of him and waited for the next man to step forward. Turning about, he showed the crystal to all. The onlookers gave a gruff single cheer.

Today was the beginning of a wonderful life.

“Rigan, it is time,” Ualan called as he raised the tent flap. Dipping his head beneath the opening, he went inside. He expected to see Morrigan still in bed. She wasn’t. Looking around, he realized she had disappeared. Again.

The smile that had graced his features all morning melted with a wave of fury.

“Gods’ bones!” he thundered, storming out of his tent. “Not again.”

He felt his features stretching to take on the look of a beast. His eyes burned, signifying their angry transformation from blue to solid gold. His teeth grew slightly in his mouth, dangerously sharp and pointed. His head snapped back harshly, his senses enhanced. Morrigan had chosen, but would she try to change her mind? With a sound that was more of a growl, than actual words, he swore, “I will have no more of these games. I will teach you, dear wife, once and for all that your place is by my side.”

It was easy for him to track her in his Draig form. Her scent was in his head and his focused vision could cut through the distance with ease. She stood in the field watching the Galaxy Brides ship leave. Relief flowed through him to discover she hadn’t run off like he’d first feared.

Since it wasn’t commonly known that the Draig people possessed the gift of shifting, he forced himself to calm and change back before she looked at him. He didn’t want to scare her. It was learned long ago that offworld brides needed time to adjust before being told of this little fact.

Usually, women had no problem with the magic arts or the mystics who practiced them. But show them their lovers turning into a beast with fangs and they went running for the horizon. Go figure. Ualan stood silently watching her, waiting for her to turn her attention back.

He glanced up at the sky, only to hear her whisper, “Blast all the stars in the fire surges of Bravon, what the—”

“A true lady doesn’t use such words,” he interrupted. She didn’t know it yet, but she was a princess. There were things princesses did not do. Cursing up at departing spaceships was one of them.

The ship had left without her.

Morrigan cursed, staring up at the dimming twin lights of the Galaxy Brides spacecraft as it faded into oblivion. Glancing around the spot where the ship had been, she frowned, seeing the imprints of its landing in the red dirt. She couldn’t believe it. The spaceship had actually taken off without her.

“A true lady doesn’t use such words.”

Morrigan spun around, her face tight with worry. She shaded her eyes to look at Ualan, not surprised that he had chased her down yet again. He was dressed in a tunic that matched hers in blue-gray color and basic design. They had the same silver embroidered edges, except the patch on his chest was larger and his tunic was more of a long shirt that split at the sides than an actual dress. It hung nearly to his knees. Morrigan swallowed nervously. He was handsome, but there was something to be said for the oiled skin and loincloth of the evening before.

Realizing he waited for her to say something, she quipped, “Good thing I’m no lady.”

Ualan frowned, but let the comment pass.

Morrigan again turned to the sky. She shook her head, giving a darker curse just for the benefit of her listener.

All around them the light of the three suns awakened the planet. It made it much easier to see her surroundings. Morrigan thought she saw the beginning of a village at the base of the nearby mountain peak. It was hard to see any of it in the depths of the big-leafed forest. What people she passed on the way to the ship had nodded politely to her, seeming to study the dragon emblem on her bodice. Either that or the men were checking out her breasts—which she guessed was a real possibility.

“You have no need to worry. Your belongings were moved to our quarters,” he said.

“Our quarters?” She snorted in disbelief. “Listen, one-nighter, I don’t know what you think you are doing, but I already told you I am not staying with you.”

Ualan’s brow rose at the challenge.

“I might have missed my ride, but make no mistake I am on the first starship out of here.”

“Come,” he said, as if her words didn’t concern him.

She grimaced at him. Not the single word conversations again. His tone was too much of an order for Morrigan’s liking. She almost refused, but then the crystal around his neck glowed brightly and she forgot what she was about to say. Her eyes became transfixed on it.

“Come,” he said again. “They are waiting.”

Morrigan found herself nodding in agreement and moved to follow.

Ualan frowned as he witnessed her sudden change. A haze fell over her eyes. How much Maiden’s Last Breath had she consumed the night before? It was for the most part as harmless as alcohol, helping the brides to relax and enjoy the spell of the crystal. In fact, it was considered a woman’s wine for its lack of alcoholic content. But he’d heard some women had stronger sensitivities to the herbs. It was rare, but it happened. His crystal was getting impatient and the way she stared at it said she might be one of the more sensitive. They had to finish the ceremony, before the stone enthralled them both and they acted like fools before the royal council.

Stepping forward, she took his offered arm. He led her to where the main bonfire had burned so low that it was almost out.

“Where are we going?” she asked, blinking hard as she pulled her eyes up, regaining herself somewhat. She looked more at him and the crystal than around the campground.

“To present ourselves to the council,” he answered.

“I can’t. I need to find someone with a transport before that ship gets too far away to catch. Who knows when I will be able to book another flight to New Earth,” Morrigan insisted. Even though it was a protest, the crystal kept it from coming out too harshly.

“You spent the night in my tent,” Ualan said. That statement should have been enough to explain his point and end the discussion. Her frown said otherwise.

Perhaps that was why she was angry with him. She was still a little sore about her discipline. Perhaps he had pushed a little too hard. The thought did not bring remorse, but a small smile he didn’t dare show her. Her angry, unfulfilled body could account for her foul mood. He couldn’t say he blamed her.

Being that this was the first day of their married life, he decided to graciously forgive her sour temperament. Besides, if she had returned the favor and teased his body to that point, he would have been thundering mad, too. Thinking of Agro’s face, he smiled. He had been thundering mad.

“What are you smiling at, barbarian?”

His grin widened. His wife was gorgeous in her ire, with her flushed cheeks and spirited eyes. She would do his family name proud. The Draig appreciated strength in character and a strong will. He would just have to teach her how to properly channel this strength. It wouldn’t do for her to constantly be scowling at him.

When this was over and he had a chance to end their mutual sexual frustrations, she would gladly become the dutiful wife of a prince. Ualan thought the idea had much to offer. Whenever her moods started to rise, he would just have to pull her aside, lift her skirts and pound them out of her.

His cock lurched to full attention, so hard it actually throbbed in pain.

“Well?” she prompted. “Never mind. I don’t care what you’re smiling at. Like I said, I don’t plan on staying here. Why should I go to a council meeting? I need to find a ship.”

“If you do not come this morning, you will dishonor both of us. All know where you were last night, Rigan. And they heard.” It was a shameless jibe and he knew it.

Morrigan balked and almost hit him.

“They’re expecting us.”

“Can the council get me up to that ship?” She stopped walking and glanced back, prompting him to do the same. The Galaxy Brides ship was completely gone, replaced by the green, cloudless sky of his home world.

“If it were to be done, they would be the ones to do it.” He realized that might be the only way to get her to come along with him. A crowd had gathered to watch the presentation and some had even started to turn to look at him and his bride. Already they were late and his people would wonder at their hesitance.

This pacified her some and she let him lead her forward. “So do I just ask them, then?”

“No,” he answered. “This is not the place. I must introduce you first.”

Morrigan lifted her eyes to the platform and whispered, “Royalty.”

Ualan glanced at her and then his parents. The king and queen were seated in the center of the standing councilmen. They had changed their clothes. His mother was in a very regal purple gown. His father was next to her in the same shade.

“I thought royalty didn’t wear crowns here.” Morrigan nodded at the king and queen.

“Not always, but usually for special ceremonies.” He smiled at her, well aware that they were being watched. It was an automatic expression, one he’d learned early as a prince.

“Oh,” was all Morrigan said as he led her to the platform to stand before the gathered.

Chapter 9

“Queen Mede, King Llyr, may I present Lady Morrigan Blake of the New Earth people,” Ualan introduced, giving a bow. Morrigan, a quick study, curtsied. The royal couple looked her over carefully. Morrigan wondered if it was the atmosphere that made everyone’s eyes look so liquid.

“You’re late,” the king said, studying Ualan. A worried frown creased between his eyes. “Is all well?”

“That was my fault, majesty,” Morrigan broke in, not wanting to start off her stay on a bad note. She needed them to like her if she was to get a ride home. She gave another curtsy for good measure.

Ualan glanced at her, his eyebrow rising. He leaned over and whispered almost too softly for her to hear, “This is a public ceremony. You have to wait to be addressed.”

The king looked confused. Glancing at his wife, he questioned, “What did she call me?”

Morrigan noticed everyone was staring at her in confusion, even Ualan. Weakly, she explained, “Majesty is what we call royalty on New Earth.”

“Ah,” the queen said. She spoke in her Qurilixian tongue to her husband. It was a soft, smooth language. When she finished, the king smiled in understanding. The queen looked at her, the woman’s eyes carrying the same genetic liquid gold that the men’s had. Suddenly, Morrigan realized that Queen Mede was a rare Qurilixian woman. She had to get a picture of this. She pushed on her emerald finger. Finishing her discourse with the king, the queen instructed, “Proceed.”

Ualan bowed again, taking the crystal from his neck. He handed it to Morrigan, who took it in confusion. The crystal felt warm and tingling against her fingers. She thought of Ualan’s touch and how it made her feel the same way—hot and aching. When she just looked at him, holding the hard stone in her fingers, he instructed, “Smash it.”

“Then that’s it?” she asked quietly, thinking that was a perfectly symbolic way to end their “relationship”. She watched him warily. “We’ll be done with this?”

Ualan smiled at her, a truly breathtaking look that did not help the feelings the crystal stirred. He nodded in agreement. “Yes, smash it and it will all be over.”

“All right then.” Witnessing his handsome grin, Morrigan was almost sorry she was going to end it with him. Lifting up the crystal, she shrugged and dropped it to the red earth. It landed but did not break. Then, Morrigan stomped on it with her slippered foot. It broke with the ease of glass, much easier than it should have. The gathered cheered.

Morrigan jerked in surprise at the sound. Her head and eyes became clear as a mist left her mind. Staring at Ualan was like watching a man emerge from a dream. Her body became sore, throbbing all over like she’d just run a mile at full speed. Her head buzzed and she pressed her fingers to her temple. She did indeed have a hangover. A bad one. She now felt the full effects of it. She blinked heavily and began to look around, as if seeing everything for the first time.

Before she could ask Ualan what was happening, the queen said, “Welcome to the family of Draig, Lady Morrigan. I hope you will enjoy your new home.”

“Oh, I’m not staying,” Morrigan said, in distraction. Even her voice sounded more real to her ears. She blinked several more times, trying to get her bearings. “I have a flight to catch.”

Ualan’s features turned red. The crowd started to titter with laughter at her words. The councilmen’s eyes narrowed. The queen and king shared puzzled looks, but it was clear they were not amused.

Standing, the king strode over to Ualan. Looking down at her, he motioned, before speaking in his native tongue.

Ualan answered in the same language, his fists gripped into tight balls.

The king placed a hand on his arm. Both men looked at her expectantly.

Morrigan understood the word “Earth” and nothing more. It gave her hope. But seeing Ualan’s irritated expression, took that hope away.

Ualan turned to her. She stiffened in surprise as he suddenly grabbed her into his arms. His lips pressed forward, scorching her senses in an all-claiming kiss that left no doubt to the crowd that he had indeed claimed a woman.

Morrigan was stunned by the public onslaught. Her heart raced to feel his lips move so savagely, tearing at her sensitive mouth. It wasn’t the dreamy kisses of last night. Those kisses had been a sweet foggy paradise. This kiss conquered her from her dizzying head to her curling toes. When he let her go, she looked dazedly on the crowd, their shouting ringing in her brain.

Ualan bowed to the king, before dragging his stunned bride from the stage like an insolent child. Morrigan stumbled behind him, her lips tingling full of sensations. Without the haze of the crystal, she was confused. Her logic told her to yell, her body told her to leap into his arms and demand he do it again. Thankfully for Morrigan’s self-respect, her logic won.

She was led into the shelter of the nearby forest, glad to be away from the crowd. Well, led was maybe too light of a word. Ualan practically dragged her stumbling behind him.

Strange yellow ferns passed under her trampling feet as Ualan followed what could only roughly be referred to as a forest path. Various woodland critters shuffled away in fright, bizarre creatures that Morrigan was forced to ignore in their haste. A purple bird flew past her head, and she automatically tried to jump back out of its way.

Ualan, misunderstanding her movements, clearly thought she tried to escape him. He gripped her tighter.

“Ow,” she yelled at him. He only walked faster. She tripped on something she couldn’t see. It might look like nothing but ferns up to her ankles, but there was debris underneath the thick groundcover.

Coming to a clearing by a narrow stream, he finally released her hand. He spun around to glare at her. “What do you think you were doing?”

“Me?” Morrigan gasped. She pulled her injured wrist to her waist. The beauty of their surroundings was lost on her. She only saw red.

“If you ever try to humiliate me in public again, wife, I will break your neck, do you understand?” Ualan growled.

“I am not your wife. You drugged me, you accursed cave dweller, with that wine and the crystal. Admit it!”

Fury raged in his eyes. Oh, he was livid.

Well, so was she.

“Don’t you dare try to deny it!” Poking him in his very unmoving chest, she shouted, “I felt it as soon as I broke that crystal. What kind of sick people are you, slipping drugs on unsuspecting women?” Lowering her tone like a simpleton, she mocked, “Oh, here, take this drink, you’ll like it,” before finishing in a furious rush, “You’ll only wake up nine months pregnant and married to a serving boy. But hey, he needed a wife and couldn’t be bothered with finding one the way most normal aliens do.”

Ualan didn’t move.

Not satisfied with poking, she slapped the dragon on his chest hard. “No thank you, cavemen. Not this girl. I am on the first flight back to New Earth and you can’t stop me. You tricked me and—”

“You chose,” he growled angrily, grabbing her by the arm and shaking her. His eyes swirled with golden lava. “Your will was free. I did not trick you. The crystal showed me to you and you chose to be my wife.”

“I chose to go. I told you that. You said you understood!” Morrigan screamed, trying to tear away from him and failing. Angry tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She did not want to be stuck here on this backward planet, forced to live in a damned tent.

“You chose to be my wife,” Ualan stated. “You cannot take it back.”

“Wife?” Morrigan repeated. He was like talking to a stone. Despite their anger, he was devilishly handsome when he looked at her all fiery like he did. Her heart skipped a little in her chest. The whole planet must be insane. Who really got married after one night and less than a hundred words?

“Yes, wife,” he insisted. “We have been chosen—”

“If I hear one more time that I was chosen, so help me…” Morrigan’s words cut into him. She shook her fist at him in warning. Taking a deep breath, she tried to be calm. “We are not married. Stop saying that we are. We aren’t going to live together. I am not going to bear your children. I am not going to cook for you, or rub your feet, or do any other mundane housewife tasks, you overbearing—”

“What was last night, then, if we are not married?” His words were soft, but the hard razor-edge was unmistakable. He glanced around the small clearing and frowned. “Come. I don’t want to be overheard.”

Morrigan looked but didn’t see anyone. He pulled her further into the trees, heading away from the stream. When they were deeper in the confines of the forest, he leaned over her and kissed her.

It was a searing, probing, claiming kiss that shot all the way to her toes. Morrigan struggled, not daring to let him end the fight like that. Not again. This Morrigan wasn’t drunk or drugged. Just as abruptly as he took her mouth with his he let it go.

“Last night was,” Morrigan hesitated, finally managing to break free of his hands. His taste stung her lips. “It was…nice. But it didn’t mean I was signing on to be Mrs. Caveman. I have a job. I have a life. It’s a good life and it doesn’t include you. I’m sorry, Ualan, but your crystal was wrong. Go dig yourself up a new one and next year you’ll have better luck.”

“Nice?” Ualan questioned in disbelief. He rolled his eyes to the tree branches, spouting out a lot of words she couldn’t understand. By his tone, Morrigan guessed it was better her implanted translator wasn’t able to decipher them.

She watched his stalking movements, momentarily distracted by the strength in his form. Suddenly he turned to her, pouncing forward to trap her against a tree. The bark poked her back sharply, but it was more forgiving than the hard male chest pressing against her delicate breasts.

“Tell me you didn’t feel it. And be warned, Rigan, I will know your lie.” Ualan’s hand became bold on the front of her gown, rubbing at her in indecent strokes. “Tell me you weren’t begging my name with your lips.”

“I was drug—”

“Tell me you don’t want me inside of you even now. I can feel your heat burning into my hand even through your clothing.” To prove his point, he stroked her between the legs and she shivered. “Tell me you don’t want me to take you right here, to end the torment I put into you last night. I saw your passion, Rigan. I saw how you liked to watch. How you longed for me to take you the same way. I smelled you as you nearly came by my whip.”

“This is not happening,” Morrigan said in exasperation. Trying to sound reasonable in an unreasonable situation, she laid a shaking hand on his arm and pushed. Breaking up had never been so hard. Ualan let her go. Through gulping breaths, she managed, “I don’t want to fight with you about this. You will find someone, Ualan. Someone perfect who can stay here with you and bear your children, and cook and clean, and do everything your little barbaric heart desires. Someone who will know how to be a wife to you. I am not that girl.”

“You chose me. The gods chose you for me.”

“No, you came to me,” she said with logic. How could she fight cultural superstition? It was so frustratingly unreasonable. “All the rest is superstition.”

“It was willed by the gods. The crystal found you for me. You belong here. I will hear no more of this. Come, we go home.”

“Ualan, don’t. I will not be forced.”

“When you took off my mask and allowed me to speak freely, you chose,” he said. “You chose to be my wife and you chose to come to my tent. You were not forced to be with me. Insult my honor again, and I will not be lenient with you, wife.”

Now he was just calling her that to annoy her. Morrigan sighed heavily, her patience almost completely gone. He was forcing her to feel too much at once—anger, desire, frustration.

“Your mask?” she repeated, her voice growing weary.

He nodded once, hard.

His words from the night echoed in her brain. Quietly, she said in sudden understanding, “Choose. You meant choose you, not choose a corner of the tent to play…”

She turned red and couldn’t finish the sentence. As she hit her fist absently along her thigh, her eye camera sent a spark through her and she saw the image of him standing gloriously naked in front of her. She turned the emerald on her hand several times to get the private image review to stop. It was too late. The virile image of his naked body was renewed in her mind.

Ualan smiled, knowingly. She might be fighting him, but she wasn’t immune. Without the aid of liquor to fuel her inhibitions, she stepped away from him in embarrassment.

“It’s a mistake,” Morrigan whispered, unable to look at him without picturing him naked. Her cheeks flamed and she hoped he thought it was her anger. “I didn’t know what I was choosing. Surely there are grounds for divorce if I didn’t know, or maybe an annulment of some sort? We didn’t do anything together—not really.”

Ualan let loose a sound of torment, but then lifted his chin proudly. “If you will not obey your new law, then obey your old one. You signed a contract. That is why your people left you here. Now speak no more of it, I will not start an intergalactic incident over your misunderstanding. We are married, resign yourself to it.”

“I am not going to be ordered about by you.” Why was he being so pigheaded? “Who are you to talk to me like that?”

“I am your master.” He growled low in his throat and stopped to sniff the air. “Quiet yourself. We’re not alone in the forest.”

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“You will obey me.”

“I will never have you as my master.”

Ualan leaned over, not listening to her continued tirade as he brushed aside a yellow fern to snatch a low-lying green plant with a yellow center from the ground. He was at her side in two seconds.

“If you were my master, than I would be a servant and this girl doesn’t do clean. Find yourself a new m-maid—” Morrigan stuttered to a stop and gasped at his swift approach.

He took her arm in his large hand and shook her. When her head snapped to him, a scream of fear and outrage forming readily on her lips, he rubbed his fingers beneath her nose, crushing the little plant. Instantly, she passed out, falling helplessly to his chest.

Why did the gods curse him so? What had he done to deserve it?

Ualan held his breath, listening to the forest. He heard people walking, heard the shuffling of feet. Dragon-shifters had excellent hearing and one of them could have overheard his conversation with his wife, no matter how he’d tried to mask it with the sound of running water and by pulling her away from the festival grounds.

Already she’d embarrassed him greatly. His father had to scold him like a child on stage.

What is this talk of leaving? the king had demanded.

It’s nothing. I’ll straighten it out, Ualan had sworn.

See that you do, son, the king’s words stung even now. I won’t have our family name soiled by an unhappy marriage. There are those who wish to see our line ended and I will not grant them the contentment of seeing my house divided, even in my son’s marriage to a New Earth woman.

Ualan lifted his immobile wife more comfortably in his arms. He resisted the urge to shift to clear his head. Other brides might be roaming the trees and he did not want to scare them before their husbands had a chance to reveal their dragon-shifting ways. He smelled his wife’s continued desire for him. She wanted him. That fact was indisputable.

A crushing fear overcame him, but he kept it from his features. His kind only had one chance at marriage. If she took it back…

He shook his head. That wasn’t going to happen.

He had seen the crystal haze leave her serious dark brown eyes. Whatever magical help the crystal had given him was gone. Now the real work of a marriage was to begin.

Chapter 10

She was the new maid.

Morrigan cringed, not daring to wonder who had changed her into the plain gray tunic and full white apron she now wore. It felt like she had blacked out for only a second. But, when she opened her eyes with a wheeze of anger ready to fight, she was lying on the couch in the middle of a large open suite—without Ualan.

At least it isn’t a tent.

The home had a gorgeous floor plan with a lot of space. Morrigan frowned, wishing the man lived in a hovel she could at least mentally tear apart and ridicule him for. Then again, maybe it wasn’t his home. It would make sense. Ualan the caveman didn’t seem like the cultured, refined type. With his build and his physical prowess he was more suited to the working class, or with his commanding behavior, possibly a military man.

The suite walls were made of red-tinted stone, which were covered with blue and silver tapestries. Shivering, she looked away from the gruesome battle scene depicted on the wall hanging. She recognized the Draig by their tall build and bulging muscles on one side of the battle, but she didn’t want to think about the furry, upright beasts on the other side trying to run from them. The creatures had fiercely long claws and the faces of cats. For embroidered material, the craftsman managed to depict fairly realistic battle wounds and casualties.

“Let’s just hope those hairy man-beasts they’re chasing into the forest are a myth,” she mumbled under her breath. They would have to be. The Draig men wore no armor in the depiction, so it couldn’t be too realistic of a portrayal.

“My lady?” a servant asked, his gaze following hers. The man tried to hide his frown of disappointment, but she saw it.

Morrigan stiffened, almost having forgotten about Mirox. She recognized him from the feast the night before as the servant with the scar across his nose. He seemed younger than the rest of the men, but was still respectably large in size. Sheepishly, she shrugged and lied, “What? I didn’t say anything. And stop calling me ‘my lady’.”

The enormous room had a high-vaulted ceiling like the cathedrals in the religion district on New Earth. At the very top, a domed window encased much of the ceiling. A switch drew blinds over the glass to block out the light of the three suns. It was the only window and the main source of light. Torches on the walls made for a kind of lamp that would fire up with a push of a button if more light was needed in the room. Mirox explained that they had no need for lighting, as all but one day a year was shrouded in sunlight.

On the first level, where she found herself upon waking, there were two circular gray couches curving around a gigantic pit fireplace in the middle. The couches parted at each corner so one could pass through to the center. Blue throw pillows with the embroidered insignia of a dragon lay neatly on the suede material. The black grates in the center surrounded a fire that was left burning. Morrigan looked, but she couldn’t see any wood or ore blocks in the bottom of it. She wondered what kind of fuel they used.

In the corner was the longest row of curving stairs she had ever seen. Climbing their marble height, she reached the top, only to discover a huge bed. It was rectangular in design, set atop a large fur rug on the marble floor. A gigantic mirror acted as a headboard. Morrigan bit her lip as she thought of Ualan sleeping there—if this was really his home. She turned a little red and needlessly looked behind her to make sure Mirox wasn’t watching her.

“My lady, do you have a preference where you would like me to…” Mirox called, his voice from below becoming lost as he presumably walked into another room.

“No,” she yelled, not really caring what the question was.

“But this is your home, my lady,” he said, his voice closer as if he’d realized she’d wandered away upstairs when he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t care,” she answered before mumbling, “And stop calling me ‘my lady’.”

So, apparently this was Ualan’s home.

Wonderful, she thought sarcastically. Of course the guy I have to run away from has money and means. Let’s just hope the cost of living is low here.

As much as she wanted to tell herself that Ualan was a gardener, or military man, or a member of the working class, it was becoming obvious that he was a man of means. The dragon emblems on the decoration matched what had been on her gown’s bodice at the ceremony. The blue color of the pillows and banners matched the same shade of blue of the wedding tent.

And Mirox insisted on calling her “my lady”.

She took a deep, worried breath, trying not to panic. Her heart raced. Who was this man who claimed her as a wife?

Morrigan frowned. With her luck, he’d be some kind of mining mogul with intergalactic contacts.

“Hey, Mirox,” Morrigan yelled. “Does Ualan run the mines?”

“My lady?” The servant’s voice sounded much closer. She walked over to the stairs and arched a brow as she peeked down. He stood at the bottom pretending to brush nonexistent dust off the corner of a tapestry.

“Ualan,” Morrigan said. “Does he run the mines?”

“That would be Lord Mirek.” Mirox stopped and gazed up at her. “You don’t want to go into the mines, my lady. They’re no place for—”

“I think you missed a piece.” Morrigan pointed at the tapestry and disappeared back into the upstairs bedroom. She eyed the bed, tempted to take a nap and wondering how long she could get away with doing nothing.

The upper level was much bigger than she had assumed from the first floor. It had been built back from the stairs with its own smaller globe ceiling to let in light. The ceilings were closer to the floor, but were still what she would consider high. There was a barren fireplace in the wall. It too was oversized. Looking around, she noted the wide, tall doorways and she suddenly realized how large Ualan actually was to need so much space. It made her shiver.

A black dragon was again embroidered on the gray coverlet of the bed. A hall led through a walk-in closet, half full of Lord Ualan’s belongings. He mostly had tunics, many pairs of leather boots, and some vicious weaponry. The other side was empty, except for her bags. She slipped the emerald ring off her finger and took the opportunity to get the itchy eye camera out before moving on. The closet further proved that this was Ualan’s home.

At the end of the hall was a viewing platform. When she pushed a button, wide curtains swept back to reveal the mountainous forests of Qurilixen. The platform was very high, above a steep cliff. If she leaned to the side, she could see the wooden platform where she had been introduced to the royalty. Funny, she had not seen this balcony from the ground. Next to the platform, the rows of pyramid tents were being dismantled. She quickly turned, not wanting to remember the night spent in the campsite.

How wrong she had been to think these people were primitive and lived in tents. The height made her nervous and she backed away from the view to go downstairs. With the memory of their night together fresh in her thoughts, she changed her mind about the bed. She made a point of not looking at the inviting mattress. It was hard enough keeping sexual thoughts out of her mind without the aid of visual stimuli.

The main level had three doors. One led to a bathroom, whose shower looked more like a rocky waterfall than a typical shower. Set next to the waterfall was a natural hot-spring tub, which she was told bubbled constantly with hot water and automatically cleaned and renewed its water supply. It had something to do with the mineral from the mountain the home was built upon. Mirox was happy to inform her that the natural springs were all over the planet.

The toilet, she didn’t even want to think about. It wasn’t a spaceport, but actually required the flushing of water to get the undesired waste from the marble bowl.

Morrigan shivered. That was so twentieth century Old Earth—no thank you! She understood wanting to live simply, but there were definitely some things it would be wise for this backward race to adopt. Decontamination lasers would be a really good start. Instead of paying for trays full of Lithorian chocolate, they could invest in some upgrades.

The second door led to a large kitchen. It took on the same look as the rest of the house and did not have a food simulator. The kitchen had a marble sink with running water, a matching marble countertop—both in creamy white—with the black insignia of the dragon inlaid on the top. There was a stove, a brick oven, and a variety of appliances she would never know how to open, let alone use.

Again Mirox was right behind her, happy to inform her that almost everyone took their main meals in the common hall. Well, at least she wouldn’t be expected to cook. Thinking of food had made her stomach growl in vicious protest, but the only thing her new “master” had in his alien refrigerator was healthy food.

“What happened to the plates of chocolate,” she grumbled, vaguely remembering the way the chocolate had melted in her mouth. Choosing a handful of oranges the size of peanuts, she looked at Mirox. “Have you ever had a problem with space parasites?”

Mirox looked confused.

“Anyone ever get sick from eating local fare?” She raised her hand to show what she held.

“The fruit is fresh, my lady,” he said, clearly confused by the question.

“Never mind.” Morrigan was too hungry to debate for long. It took a while to peel the skins off the little fruits, but they weren’t so bad. She left the peels messily on the countertop and moved on.

The last door led outside the home. It was locked, though she tried gallantly to open the iron giant. Again, there was Mirox, telling her the doors only opened to voice activation and her voice had yet to be programmed into it.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered.

“It is for security, my lady,” Mirox supplied, “so that none can enter without being invited.”

“Stop calling me ‘my lady’,” she answered automatically, before continuing the conversation, “So if I set this place on fire, I’d die before they let me out?”

“Yes, my lady, if there wasn’t anyone to open them for you.”

“Stop calling me that,” she muttered warningly, glaring at her new prison walls in growing displeasure. “I’m the new maid.”

At that Mirox laughed. “I don’t know what it is like on New Earth, my lady, but here the servant actually cleans.”

He gave a meaningful look at the mess she had been systematically making of his lordship’s rooms as she explored. Ualan’s clothes had been scattered over the floor of the second level, crumpled into a pile and tumbling over the stairs. Furniture was bumped out of place. Trinkets were tipped over.

Throwing dirt from a potted plant over the nice, clean marble floor, Morrigan smiled in satisfaction. “Then I guess his lordship can just go ahead and fire me,” she said, throwing more dirt with a look of mischievous pleasure.

“Can I ask why would you wish to be set on fire, my lady?” The servant did not lift a hand to stop her tirade.

“Stop calling me that!” Morrigan glared at him in irritation. “I am not a lady. I am a slave.”

Mirox froze, his face turning pale. Bowing graciously, he turned away from her with as much dignity as he could muster. His movements were stiff and Morrigan wondered what she had said to make him in such a hurry to get away from her. It wasn’t like she’d suddenly turned surly. She’d pretty much woken up like that. He shouted a command at the front doors and rushed out when they automatically opened.

“Hey,” Morrigan hollered, running after him in chase. She tried to get through the heavy metal doors, but they slammed in her face before she saw anything but the red wall of the outside hallway. She hit the metal hard. “Come back, Mirox, let me out!”

He didn’t obey.

Frowning at the doors, she said to them sarcastically, “Well, I guess now I can deduce I live in an apartment and not a house, ‘cause that weren’t no front yard.”

Spinning on her heels, she looked at the home. There was no getting out of this prison hold unless Ualan let her out. She sure wasn’t about to scale the side of the cliff accessible from his upper level.

Smiling, she inspected her dirty handiwork. If he didn’t want to let her go now, then she would just have to make sure he wanted her out by tomorrow morning. Her smile widened. She would bet her favorite eye camera that she could get herself evicted from this nightmare life by that very evening.

Laughing like a vixen, Morrigan’s eyes lit with her scheming. “Welcome home, my lord, and welcome to your new living hell.”

Chapter 11

Ualan felt as if he was tossed into the bowels of a torin beast. The large herds of the stupid animals were great for producing meat and fertilizer, but could be used for little else. And they smelled vile.

Today should have been a happy day of relaxation and celebration and, most importantly, the releasing of some very relentless sexual tension that ate at his insides. Instead, it was spent trying to calm his nerves enough to face his little irritation of a wife.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse…

Ualan sighed, murmuring for his door to open. Stepping into his home, he froze. It had been destroyed.

Yep, unquestionably the bowels of a torin.

Slowly drawing out his sword, his eyes first went to his couch looking for his wife. She wasn’t there and he couldn’t smell her blood in the room. Deliberately, he relaxed and painstakingly placed his sword on a low table by the door. The metal entryway slid shut behind him, silent and smooth.

His home looked like it had been ransacked. The couch cushions were thrown all over the dirt-covered floor. His clothing was wrinkled and trampled, and if he wasn’t mistaken that was the coverlet from his bed bunched up on the nook dining table in the far corner. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he silently muttered every black curse he knew.

It didn’t help.

His lips curled into a snarl, as he darted forward to the plant Morrigan had tipped over. Cursing, he repotted the battleflower and set it aright. Two rows of long dark blue leaves flanked the length of the center bright yellow stem on opposite sides to create a wing pattern. Not too much damage had been done to it, but he was forced to trim down a few of its broken leaves, which gave it an unsymmetrical appearance, and caused it to lean to one side like a hobbled old warrior. It would be at least a year before they grew back. Without all the leaves at full maturity and health, the center flower wouldn’t bloom. He’d been nurturing the plant for five years to see the blood red petals. He’d planned on offering the petals to the gods at the temple and asking them to end the war with the Var so that they may find peace. It was a small thing, probably pointless and stupid, but it was still tied to his hope. He’d never told anyone why he was growing the plant.

Just then, he heard his darling new housekeeper splashing in the bathroom. Even in his anger at her blatant disregard for his home and his property, his desires flared in anticipation. The noise that left his throat when he stalked across the floor sounded more like the beginning roar of a dragon than the voice of a man.

Coming into the bathroom, Ualan paused, disappointed. She wasn’t in the hot springs like he had expected, but sat on the stone edge dipping her feet into the bubbling water, kicking them up only so they landed on the surface with a hard smack.

It looked as if she had been there for some time by the way the strands of her hair plastered to her forehead and neck in little trails. Her cheeks were flushed to a slight red. She still wore the outfit of the maid, which he had leisurely, and to his greatest masculine pleasure, dressed her in while she was out. It was either he did it himself or he ordered a servant to, and he’d already seen his wife naked.

Still kicking her feet in the water, she angled her head as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Ualan put his hands on his hips, his eyebrows raising high on his face in displeasure. Clearing his throat, he startled her on purpose.

Morrigan jumped, spinning around to look at him. She smiled sheepishly, her eyes taking in his hard expression. She would have to be a fool to miss the anger seeping from his gaze.

She smiled sweetly. “This is a pretty swank pad you got here, caveman.”

Ualan narrowed his eyes in warning. “A what?”

“Nice home,” she clarified.

“It was.” He gave a small grunt of ill humor.

“So are you rich or what, caveman?” she asked, blinking her wide innocent eyes at him.

“Why does this matter?” Ualan grumbled. She had looked at him like that before. He would not be taken in by it again.

“I want to know what I’ll be leaving behind when I go,” Morrigan purred, taking her time getting out of the tub. “Whew, that thing is better than a spa treatment on Quazer.”

“You aren’t going anywhere, wife. You’re staying right here where you belong.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “With me.”

“All right, caveman, calm down,” she soothed. Her eyes flashed with anger, but she held her temper back. “But you don’t know what you are getting yourself into.”

She thoughtfully stepped onto a towel she had placed on the cold marble floor and let it dry the water from her feet.

“Do you accept my authority?” He didn’t move, but hoped she’d just say yes and accept her role as his wife.

“No,” Morrigan snorted, as if the very idea was laughable. Hands on hips, she carefully placed her feet into his slippers. They were overlarge on her feet, but were made of fur on the inside so he knew them to be warm. A strand of hair stuck to her forehead, plastered from the steam of the tub. She pushed it aside and waved her fingers before her face. “So, really, how much money do you have? I have a shopping spree in mind. I want to buy every frivolous thing I can get my hands on. Starting with a food simulator.”

“I will provide for you. That is what you need to know.” He frowned at the rudeness. Money was not a wife’s concern. He would take care of her, as was his duty.

“Hmm, so that would be no on the money then. Too bad, I need a loan to get me back to New Earth if you don’t have access to a bank base. Besides, you’re not much of a catch with no dowry, are you, caveman?” She smirked, as if she couldn’t resist calling him that. It seemed to give her satisfaction when she irritated him. “So, what do you do for a living anyway, oh mighty impoverished one?”

“Quiet,” Ualan ordered with a slice of his hand.

She quirked a brow and shifted the weight. It appeared the steam had also moistened the front of her maid’s uniform to her body and her nipples were beginning to bud. If he just reached out and…

“What? You don’t have a job?”

In his distraction, it took him a moment to process her words. His eyes darted up from her chest to stare at her in warning.

“Don’t tell me we live with your parents. Ugh. No wonder you don’t want to let me leave. You’re not much of a catch at all.”

“Enough,” Ualan commanded trying to keep the low growl out of his voice. Let her think what she wanted. “You make my head spin, woman.”

She shrugged, her wide eyes seeming to say “sorry”.

He wasn’t fooled.

“Did you tell Mirox you were a slave?” he asked, remembering the main reason his stomach was heavy with stress.

Morrigan tried to slide past him in his slippers, but he blocked her escape. For a moment it looked as if she might try to plow past him, but in the end she stepped back. “Yeah. What of it? I am, aren’t I? You’re keeping me here, forcing me to wear this uniform, forcing me to be in your home.”

Ualan let loose a long string of Draig curses until he saw her silently repeating them as if trying to memorize them for herself.

Wonderful, he thought sarcastically. That’s exactly what I need her to add to her already colorful vocabulary.

Ualan took a deep breath. He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t dare with his shaking hands. He wasn’t sure he would keep them from strangling the very life from her. “Very well, then. If that is your wish, so be it.”

Morrigan instantly paled at his words. Clearly, she had expected a fight, not agreement. He started to relent, sure the stress of his position was showing in his tired eyes, but that is not how these situations were handled. He stiffened his jaw and turned away.

“I will inform the queen of your decision,” he said over his shoulder. “Go grab your bags—if you can find them under this mess.”

“Wait.” Morrigan chased after him. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him to a stop. He stiffened, looking at her hand before staring boldly into her eyes. Weakly, she asked, “What did I just do?”

“You declared yourself a slave.” He gave a long drawn out sigh just to torture her a little. Her gaze dropped to his lips as if staring at the words would make the situation more understandable. “So I will give you to the queen. She will be pleased, she needs someone to cook for her guests and clean the castle. Though, I must insist you don’t do to her home what you have done to mine. Slaves who perform badly are thrown to the soldiers. It makes for good sport and it keeps the men’s spirits up. Though, they would be most happy to receive you—you being used to such attentions in your former employment. The other girl they have is getting pretty—how should I put it?—worn in.”

Morrigan paled even more and he was surprised that such a thing was possible. She searched his face and he kept his expression serious. “Is that true? Are you lying to me?”

Ualan tilted his head. “Didn’t Galaxy Brides give you the uploads on our ways? How else are all the men to find a woman if we don’t share the unattached ones?”

“I didn’t get to them all,” she whispered.

“It’s called research, slave. You know, studying up before you take on a new task so you know what you are getting yourself into,” he mocked, throwing her words from the night before back at her. The jibe was not lost. She balked. “Now, release my arm. I go to do as you wish. The queen will want you to start right away.”

“Wait! I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to be a slave. Do you have to tell the queen about it? I take it back.”

Ualan kept his back to her and let a devious smile cross briefly over his lips. He hid the expression before turning around to study her quizzically. After a long moment of contemplation, he uttered dispassionately, “You seem to take back your word quite a bit, slave. That will not please the queen.”

“I meant it as an expression, like we use on New Earth. I didn’t mean it as a declaration of intent.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you. You declared it to Mirox and he was duty bound to report it to the royal family. I am positive they already know.”

“Ualan…” She gave a desperate pull of his sleeve. Her eyes pleaded with him for mercy.

He waited for her to continue.

“Can’t you help me? Isn’t there something you could do?”

“Why should I? You have given me nothing but headaches. Look at what you did to my home. I should be so lucky to get rid of you.” Ualan began to turn from her.

“What if I fix it?” she asked.

His arms crossed thoughtfully over his chest, covering the dragon of his family crest. Slowly, he turned back to her. “What do you propose?”

“Isn’t there anything you can do to get me out of being a royal slave?”

“You can petition the royal courts, but that could take months,” he said thoughtfully. “With your ignorance of our customs, a pardon might be given.”

“Months of cooking and cleaning an entire castle?” Morrigan recoiled, missing the vast amusement filtering in his gaze. She paced away from him in agitation. Her words were soft as if she talked more to herself than to him. She obviously didn’t know about his shifter hearing. “I’ll be sent to the soldiers within the hour. I can’t cook. What if I poison the royal family on accident? I’ll be hung for sure.”

Her distress brought his battered ego much satisfaction, even as the rest of him felt sorry for her. She aggravated him so much, yet he still wanted to pull her into his arms and protect her. None of this made sense. He was a good man. Why did the gods give him this difficulty in marriage? He should be kissing her now, not scaring her.

“Ualan?” Her face scrunched up and he could tell her next confession was causing her great pain. He widened his stance and lifted his jaw, not giving her an inch. “When I said I don’t clean and I don’t cook, I wasn’t making that up. I really can’t clean or cook.”

He raised an eyebrow, doubtful.

“No, really,” she insisted.

She tried to take a step back to put more distance between them—or perhaps between herself and the front door. “I have three maid units and a backup in case one of them breaks. Every meal I’ve ever made was materialized in a food simulator and you don’t have those here, do you?”

Ualan smirked, he couldn’t help himself.

“I don’t even know what raw meat looks like, unless you count a cow grazing in the field on New Earth. I’ve never prepared a dish in my life.”

“A person should know these things, Morrigan,” he stated seriously. His gaze dipped to the cords working in her neck.

“I know. That is what I have been trying to tell you, Ualan. A woman who stays with you should know those things. I don’t. I haven’t the faintest clue. You don’t want me here. You can’t want a clueless wife. Can’t you just do whatever it is you need to divorce me and let me go on my way?”

“You seem smart, slave.” Lifting his hand, he brushed a piece of hair from her cheek. She jumped a little in surprise at the contact. He drew back.

“Thank you,” she said at the compliment.

“Smart women can learn these things.”

Morrigan gasped, her temper flaring when he didn’t give in to her. “You rotten—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he scolded. “I have yet to give you your last option, slave. Be quiet or I will deliver you and your harsh tongue to the queen straightaway. Let her have you and your ill temper.”

She scowled, but bit her tongue. Grumbling, she asked, “What is it?”

“You can be my slave until the royal family will hear you speak.” Though he tried not to let it react, his body stirred at the words. The way the damp material of her gown clung to her chest revealed the subtle sweep of her nipple. He wished they could just reverse this day and go back to this morning. Even if that were possible, he wasn’t sure how he could change the course of these events.

“Yours?” she prompted.

“Yes. You would be allowed to stay here…with me.”

Morrigan began to deny him with a shake of her head, but then evidently thought better of it. “What would I have to do?”

The sexual implications of her question were very clear. Her eyes turned up to his bedroom and she visibly shivered.

God’s bones, he wanted to say yes to that stipulation.

“No, little rebel. You will not be permitted there. The bed is for a wife. Are you ready to be a wife?”

Morrigan shook her head in denial.

“Very well.” Ualan didn’t bother to hide his disappointment.

“Then you would have me where?” She glanced at the table and then at the couch.

His mind answered silently with all the things a man like him could do to a beautiful, fiery temptress like her, and all the ways he could easily bend and lift her in lovemaking. The images made him tense as he tried to control the raging desire that had already lifted his cock beneath his tunic shirt. It seemed to point in her direction, begging its master to let him out to play.

“Slaves are too low to take to bed. I cannot lower myself. Honor forbids it. Unless you agree that you are my wife and I your master husband, then there is nothing I can do…to you.”

He felt the heat of his lust burning in his gaze when he looked her over. The maid uniform seemed a little too snug, but that wasn’t a bad thing as it clung to her curves.

Morrigan’s cheeks pinkened at the inspection. “So if I agree to be your slave, then…?”

“You will only have to clean my home and cook my meals, unless you choose to serve me in other ways. What was it you suggested, Rigan? Rubbing my feet?”

“I told you,” she answered carefully. “I don’t know how to do those things. What happens if I make a mistake? What happens if I…what will you do to me?”

“I will punish you.”

“Oh. All right, I will do that.”

“What?”

“I’ll stay here and clean this up. How hard could this one room be?”

“There is only one problem,” Ualan responded, stepping forward.

Morrigan’s mouth opened, sucking in a deep breath. Her head was forced back to look at him as he towered over her.

“You haven’t asked me if I wanted a slave,” he said in a low, sultry tone. “Your list of skills is very lacking. You might be more trouble than you are worth.”

“Do you…?” Morrigan stared at his mouth again, her lovely eyes fixated on it. She began to lift up on her toes and lean toward him, but then held back.

“Why would I consider it?” Ualan inched closer. His breath fanned over her neck and she shivered in response. “What would be in it for me?”

“What do you want?” Morrigan closed her eyes. Her lips pursed slightly, begging to be kissed.

“No,” he said softly, pulling away. It was hard denying her, denying himself. “I don’t know that you have anything I want.”

Morrigan looked as if he’d slapped her.

“I will give you a trial, slave, because I do not wish to embarrass my name with your mistakes before the queen.” Stepping away from her, he took up his sword and slid it into the scabbard at his waist. “Have my home clean by the time I get back tonight. Then we will speak more on it.”

Though he had not held her upright, Morrigan felt as if she was going to fall at his departure. She wanted to believe she acted like she wasn’t bothered by him, but in truth her heart stuck in her throat. Her skin stung with the memory of his intimate touches in the wedding tent.

Ualan glanced back when he reached the front door. His gaze studied her so intently she felt as if she was on fire. The warm scent of him still lingered in the air around her, a cologne of soap and flesh. When he was near, she wanted to fall against his broad chest and be enfolded into his arms. When he spoke, his words were low and sultry, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her senses.

Blast it all, but he was a fine barbaric specimen.

She saw the piercing color of his blue eyes as he stared at her from the doorway. His gaze moved over his home, to the mess she had childishly made of it.

Morrigan trembled and was almost sorry she’d destroyed his home. Almost. But what choice had he left her? Had she not had the unfortunate slip of the tongue to put the word “slave” into a ranting sentence, her plan might not have backfired.

Now she had to clean it up. She grimaced to think of how she hated cleaning and cooking. She was terrible at it and had gotten lazy since she had maid units to pick up after her. Although this one home was certainly a better offer than the whole castle…

Morrigan shivered. She had to figure this cleaning thing out or risk being thrown to the soldiers. Being made to repeatedly pleasure a regiment of warrior men wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time. Better this handsome warrior than the whole Draig guard.

Her hands trembled with the effort it took to hold back the memory of his mouth against her, of his whip teasing her flesh, of the unfulfilled ache that even now simmered below her skin’s surface. Without the mist of the crystal, she had no excuse to feel such a way.

At the same time she was fighting the spine-tingling thrill of his nearness, she wanted to fight him. One look at his smug face and she wanted to irritate him. It was reckless and foolish and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. To get the story, confrontation was often a part of the job. Arguing and baiting was pretty much in a journalist’s genetic coding.

Morrigan kicked at a stray tunic shirt near her foot and sent it flying to the wall. Well, the cleaning had to start somewhere. She kicked a stray boot in the same direction. “What in all the firepits was I thinking? I should never have gotten up from the feasting table. I should have taken my pictures, wrote the accursed romantic story, and left.”

Chapter 12

“Well,” the king asked of his son. They had been waiting anxiously for his return to the hall. Mirox still sat, pale and worried, on the lower seats, where he had been ever since he ran to inform the royal family of Ualan’s wife’s charge. “Did she indenture herself?”

The main hall had steep, arched ceilings. The center light dome was larger than the one in his room. Lines of tables reached across the floor for dining. The red stone floor was swept clean and the hall was all but empty. Banners of the family crest lined the walls, one for each color of the family lines—blue-gray for Ualan, purple for his parents, and green, black and red for each of his brothers. Each had the silver symbol of the dragon. Seeing the dragon reminded him his position as a prince. Some days that burden seemed heavier than others. He wondered if marriage would be this hard if he’d been a simple farmer. Maybe then the gods wouldn’t have felt the need to test him.

“She did.” Ualan had been incensed the moment he’d found out. For someone who claimed to know nothing about their marriage customs, she appeared to know a lot about avoiding wifely duties. However, that was until he had seen her confusion. His heart had relaxed the tight squeeze on his chest and he was again able to breathe.

“By all that is sacred.” Queen Mede turned her troubled eyes away from her son. Directing her words to Mirox, she commanded, “Mention this to no one, loyal servant, and go.”

Mirox bowed, quickly running from the hall as if relieved to have no more part in these events.

The queen turned back to her oldest son, clearly satisfied nothing would be said by the servant. She did not wait for Prince Ualan to come forward, but stood and went down to him. Touching his cheek, there was great sorrow in her eyes. “I am sorry, my son. There is nothing I can do for you.”

“Mother,” he leaned and kissed her cheek. “It is not over yet, and you have raised a warrior. Warriors do not run from a fight.”

The king, who did not show affection as readily as his wife, nodded in agreement and with clear pride in his son.

“She has agreed to be my slave,” Ualan said. “And I am a hard taskmaster.”

“What?” the queen asked. “Why would she try to deny you only to indenture herself to you? Is she mad?”

Ualan smiled, as did the king, who seemed to understand his son’s thinking better than his wife.

“I don’t think she knew she was denying me,” Ualan said.

“Then, by all means, bring her forth and let her be pardoned from it, if she will give no protest,” Queen Mede said, her color returning. She was relieved that her son wasn’t going to be cursed to a lifetime of loneliness, for he could never find another wife.

“No,” Ualan said.

“What, you wish to be alone?” his father asked.

“No, let her be indentured to me, father,” Ualan said. “Do not pardon her yet. This bride of mine has too much spirit. I would see some of it broken before I pardon her. She will learn to obey her husband.”

“Well considered,” King Llyr agreed. “It would not do for the family to be embarrassed by this woman’s defiance of you. Between you and your brothers and your cousins, this morning was almost too much. If you hadn’t claimed her like you did, the other houses would besiege our gates and our people might have opened the doors to let them in. For if the future king cannot control his wife—”

“Llyr,” Queen Mede’s tone was soft, but held a bit of warning in it. She frowned and waved away her husband’s words with a grimace. It was well known in the family circle that appearances were deceiving. The queen as much ruled her husband as he did her.

“I didn’t mean you,” King Llyr amended. “You’re a dragon. You don’t count as a woman.”

Queen Mede arched a brow.

“A normal woman,” the king amended.

The queen narrowed her eyes.

“Ah, by all that is sacred,” the king said in a half pout, “you’re not making me Lady Grace’s sugared biscuits now, are you?”

Queen Mede shook her head in denial. Lady Grace was her mother, now gone, and she’d passed down a secret recipe to her daughter that people clamored for. The queen refused to give her mother’s prized recipe to anyone—not even the palace chef.

Ignoring her husband, the queen warned her son, “Ualan, it is a dangerous thing you play at.”

“The best things always are,” he answered, kissing her cheek. She rolled her eyes heavenward at his overconfident statement.

“Just be careful, son. Your wife is not a cat-shifter soldier to be conquered. Be sure you don’t break her heart in this quest,” Queen Mede said. “Once broken, that organ will not so readily beat again. I don’t have to tell you how angry the gods can get and how they can punish in ways you can’t imagine.”

Ualan nodded stiffly, not liking the words for the truth they held.

“I go to train,” Ualan said, intent on exercising with his brother Zoran. Anything would be better than watching Morrigan as she bent over cleaning his floor. The image brought to mind many sordid ideas. As he leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek, he whispered, “Do not worry. You are too beautiful to carry a frown.”

“You might save your charm for your wife,” she answered. “You’re going to need it, son.”

When they were alone King Llyr looked at his wife. Shaking his head, he said, “I fear for the kingdom.”

“Our son is a good man,” the queen returned, moving to take his hand. She looked lovingly at him, an expression she saved for these private moments. He knew he’d stepped into trouble with his earlier comment, just as he knew she would easily forgive his boorish tongue. This woman knew his heart, knew everything about him. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t still punish him for it.

“It’s not the future king I’m worried about,” he answered, kissing her soundly. No amount of time would ever change how much he loved her. Such was the beauty of a dragon’s heart.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Morrigan Blake.” The queen smiled, as if she carried some secret woman knowledge he wasn’t privy to. “Our new princesses are strong, but they are not dragons. I don’t think they are strong enough to resist a Draig prince.”

“No woman who ever lived has been strong enough to resist a Draig.” The King grinned. He’d already lost his sugared biscuits so there was no reason to behave. His eyes flashed a daring green and gold as he leaned forward to prove his point. “Just like you instantly fell into my arms the moment we met.”

“Not exactly how I remember it.”

“Come closer. I’ll remind you.” The king leaned to kiss her and she did not deny him.

Morrigan’s cleaning was almost as bad as her mess. Righting the cushions and hanging the clothes had been easy enough, but crawling around on the floor to pick up crumbs of dirt was killing her back. Suddenly, she wished she had spent more time watching the maid units, instead of just turning them on as she walked out the door. She really had no idea what those little things did. She just came home and her place was sparkly.

If it killed her, she was never going to make another mess again. And she was buying all her maid units puny husband droids to boss around.

“Urgh,” she groaned, crawling on her hands and knees across the stone floor. She was trying to use her gown to sweep the dirt toward the plant. The hard marble was bruising her knees and palms, but it was the only way she could think of to efficiently collect the tiny specs.

The muscles of her arms kinked, her neck ached, and her temples throbbed and she was lightheaded from lack of food. A handful of grape-oranges were all she’d had to eat since she woke up. This was definitely the lavapits of hell. Standing, she stretched her back. The floor still looked dusty.

“Water,” she mused, knowing it had worked for the counters. Going to the kitchen, she noticed the countertop was still wet. She figured it would dry on its own. Finding a bowl from the cupboard and filling it with water, she then eyed the soap sitting on the edge of the sink. Uncorking the lid, she smelled it. It was nice and lemony. She shrugged and poured the whole bottle into the bowl causing instant suds. What harm could it do? It smelled clean.

When the bowl was full, she looked at it and then at the floor. Perhaps it wasn’t enough. Just to be sure, she filled another bowl of water and carried them out to the front hall one at a time. Seeing that the worst trail of dirt was before the stairs, she dumped the first bowl of water with a big swoosh. The liquid went everywhere. Then, turning, she dumped the other bowl of water in the other direction.

“There,” she sighed, proud. The dust was already lifting off the floor and disappearing into the water. Plus, as a benefit, the room smelled lemony fresh. “We’ll just let that dry and it will be good as new.”

Picking up the bowls, she didn’t bother to rinse them as she stacked them back in the cupboard. The soap would have cleaned them just fine and they would dry on their own. Morrigan sighed with a sense of great accomplishment. She was finished.

Chapter 13

“Gods’ bones!”

Ualan stepped into the water pooled on his marble floor and slid across the soapy surface, nearly crashing into his couch trying to right himself. Water soaked into his muddy boots and he cursed.

“Rigan!”

Morrigan came running out of the kitchen. Seeing the dirt trail his sliding feet made, she cried out, “Oh, I just finished that. Look what you did!”

The look on her horrified face was priceless and did much to calm his irritation. Ualan carefully waded through the watery mess heading for drier ground. He was splattered with mud from head to foot. The soldiers had been practicing swordplay with his brother in the lower swamps near the borderlands. It had been great fun.

“Stop,” Morrigan yelled. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Ualan looked around at the puddle. Wryly, he said, “It is hardly clean.”

“You awful caveman. I spent all day on that floor.”

“All day?” He gave his home a doubtful look. It appeared as if she had spent nary a minute on it, but to dump water on the marble. He sniffed. Correction, but to dump hand soap and water on the marble.

“Ah!” Morrigan held out her hands. The palms looked red. “Look at my hands. I have been crawling around on them all day, trying to sweep that dirt with my apron. I swear someone should invent a tool to make it easier.”

Ualan tried not to laugh. Her apron was filthy, attesting to her words.

Thinking he didn’t believe her, she continued, “My back is on fire. My body aches. And you just sashay over my hard work like it’s nothing.”

“I don’t know what this sashay is, but I can determine by your expression it is meant to insult me.”

She lifted her skirt past her bruised knees. “See my knees are even killing me.

This time he did laugh a little while he took full advantage of the view she presented by lifting her skirts to prove a point. “I can’t see,” Ualan said with a dark, sensual dip to his words. “Lift it higher.”

Morrigan grimaced, dropping the skirt. She was obviously not impressed with him.

“Look what you did,” she commanded with a point. “Take off your boots.”

Ualan didn’t bother to look at her evidence against him. His anger had completely faded. She was just too earnest. He began to chuckle.

“Oh,” she mourned. “You’re probably going to blame your mess on me, aren’t you, caveman? And look at you. You’re filthy.”

“Spoken like a true wife,” he answered with a secretive smile. Her expression dropped.

“I am not your wife. I’m your slave, caveman. There is a huge difference.”

He remained quiet.

“Well at least to me there is,” she continued. Her wide eyes challenged him. “Here I bet you treat your wives like slaves.”

“Only when they deserve it.” His body was stretched with a good hard day of mock battling. That, and her beautiful face flushed red with anger, put him in a delightful mood. “And usually they are only made to be bed slaves. If you are interested, declare yourself my wife and then we can take turns being the master. I have some rope. I know how you like to be tied—”

“Caveman,” she warned. That single word stopped him from finishing the thought. She stomped away. Her hands flopped in the air as she walked trying to avoid the puddles of her hard work. “I don’t care what you do, I’m taking a shower. And I am not picking up after you, so you can just forget it. I don’t care if I have to sleep with a hundred soldiers so long as I get to lie down and do nothing.”

Ualan smiled, following her toward the bathing room. This was too much. For the moment, he didn’t care that his home was wrecked or that water was matting his expensive fur rugs. He could afford to buy a hundred more of them.

Ualan put one hand on the bathroom door when she would slam it shut. Morrigan glared at him. She tried in vain to push him out. His hand was enough to stop her progress. He stood, waiting for her to expend her energies.

He closed his eyes briefly. Already the sweet perfume of her desire filled his head. This was going to be the kind of torture even the most war-hardened warrior might not survive.

“That wasn’t an invitation, caveman,” she grumbled at last, giving up on trying to keep him out of the room by force.

“A slave never bathes before her lord,” Ualan said, stepping past her. Sitting on the edge of the natural hot spring, he tossed his dirty hair over his shoulder in challenge. Her lips parted, begging him unwittingly for his kisses. She had a mouth that deserved to be kissed and often. But she had started this game and he was going to be the one who finished it as the victor. “But, she does bathe her lord.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Morrigan shook her head and tried to run out the door. “Oh, no, you—”

Ualan caught her by the long tail of hair knotted at the base of her neck. She gasped in surprise at the suddenness of her capture. Frowning, he pulled her back to him gently. Morrigan huffed and mumbled under her breath about barbarians and cavemen, and beating them all over the heads with clubs.

Ualan moved her so she was standing in between his massive legs. Squeezing her into place with his thighs, he softly combed his fingers through her hair, unknotting it. Her hair spilled in waves down her shoulders like dark silk. Morrigan held very still, barely even breathing, as if she were afraid to move.

“Turn,” Ualan ordered, keeping his voice low. He wasn’t sure how he was going to keep this game up, only that he needed to try.

Cursing herself the entire time, Morrigan obeyed his command to face him. Her scalp tingled from how he’d stroked her hair. By the time he’d finished finger combing her locks, she’d been breathless. Turning around between his legs, she tried not to look at his face and failed. His eyes were level with her breasts and completely focused on them. Reaching over, he kept his gaze on her chest as he pushed the door closed, trapping her in. The gesture brought his dirty face closer, so close that his nose brushed dangerously close to a nipple. His thighs locked down tight as if she might try to escape. Morrigan didn’t think her legs could move, let alone aid in an escape.

Her hair framed her face now that it was down. She looked downward, thinking to hide behind its veil. The movement brought her eyes to his lap. The manly interest was right there in front of her.

“Undress me, slave,” he bid softly.

Morrigan was too enthralled to think. Her hands had been itching to explore him since the moment she saw his half-naked body standing in the bachelor line. Biting her lip, she carefully drew her hands to his shoulders. She trembled as she ran her fingers along his tunic. Her chest heaved with deepened breaths, drawing his steamy gaze back to her breasts.

“You’ll have to stand up,” Morrigan said, her voice huskier than she would have preferred. Ualan stood.

She was almost sorry she suggested it. He dominated the bathroom and everything in it, including her. Licking her lip where she had bit it, she reached to lift his tunic. She pulled it over his head with much effort. He refused to help, even when she struggled. Seeing his naked chest, she faltered. When his hands came back down, he purposefully grazed a breast with the back of his fingers. The nipple instantly exploded with awareness.

“Uh?” She looked at his pants, wondering how she should handle her current situation.

“The breeches, slave, or I will have to send you to the queen.”

Morrigan gave him a wry look. He didn’t have to sound like he was enjoying himself quite so much. She lost her voice as she slid her fingers down his skin, flesh that had dried with the sweat and dirt of his exercise. Reaching side laces that bound the breeches to his waist, she tugged them loose but didn’t push the material down off his hips.

“Your boots,” Morrigan whispered, doing her best not to examine his delectable body, and failing miserably. Ualan kicked the boots off his feet, followed by his socks. Blushing, she turned her eyes away and quickly shoved the black material of his pants to his ankles, pulling them forward so as not to snag the waistband on his cock. Refusing to look, she stepped away. “There. All done. I’ll just get going now.”

“You will bathe me, slave.” Ualan stepped forward, running his hand over a panel on the wall. Instantly, water cascaded down the rocks in the shower, forming a pool at the bottom. He stepped into the water, proud and unashamed of his taut nakedness.

When she did not readily obey, he glanced at her. She shivered, automatically drawing her arms up to cross over her stomach.

“Come and rinse, the water is warm.” He laid his hands against the rock wall beneath the falling torrent and rested his neck forward to let the currents of warm liquid glide over his head.

Morrigan looked warily at his back, refusing to take off her uniform as she stepped into the waterfall shower. Every inch of him looked carved of stone, a thick gladiator body of hard muscle and tight bronzed flesh slick with moisture. The gold band on his arm glistened in the light from above.

Reaching to his arm, she gently pulled the bracelet from his biceps and set it behind her on the floor. She noticed that his skin was the same color beneath the bracelet indicating he probably didn’t always wear it, but had maybe forgot to take it off after the ceremony. He lifted his arm back to the wall, rolling his head on his shoulders, and letting water fall and run out of his mouth.

“Soap?” Her voice was rough with the effort it took for her to speak.

Ualan smiled. Motioning his head, he nodded to the side. Morrigan blushed, seeing the bottle sitting in plain view.

She grabbed it and lathered up her hands. Gingerly, she began to scrub him, running her fingers over his rigid back and shoulders. Ualan groaned as she rubbed at his neck, easing the tension from him with her fingers. The soaked skirt of her gown slapped the back of his legs as she worked.

Her soapy hands continued to tentatively move over his form, touching, squeezing, and unconsciously testing the firmness of his body. Already she had a hard time breathing and she’d only reached his back. When her soapy fingers found his hips he gave a little jerk, but didn’t make her stop. She continued down his ass and legs.

Morrigan was enchanted by the texture of his skin. The look of him heated her blood. Her lips parted, fascinated with the idea of tasting him. He didn’t move to encourage her and so she held back. She had to remember this was a chore, not a pleasure.

But, oh, was it pleasurable!

By the time Morrigan worked her way back up, her fingers turned from scrubbing to caressing. They glided over him in long strokes, reaching over his legs and buttocks, up his sides, and along his arms. She couldn’t reach his hands without dipping around to the front and soaking her gown completely.

Without thought, she followed her restless fingers to his chest, blocking the water from him with her back. It soaked her clothes and hair, plastering the velvet locks to her shoulders. Ualan’s eyes bore into her as she worked over his arms and neck. The wet material clung seductively to her skin.

Timidly, she met his gaze and was captured by it. Her breathing deepened. She forgot who he was, where she was. All that mattered was the way he was eyeing her and the aching heat it created in her sex.

The wet gown became unbearably heavy as it pressed into her skin. Keeping her gaze steadily on his bold, blue eyes, she slowly circled her administrating hands lower on his stomach. The muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but he didn’t stop her. She slid her hands to his hips, begging him silently with a gentle pull to press forward. Morrigan wanted him to trap her to the rough stone with his marble body. The strong muscles of his arms could easily hold her weight if he was to lift her up. Her breasts arched, the warm water rushing tantalizingly over them, the rough material clinging to the heated points.

Having already gotten his legs, there was only one place left. She didn’t look, but could feel the heat radiating near her centering hands. His eyes narrowed into concentrated slits, daring her to go on. She slowly grasped her fingers around his long, awaiting erection. The size startled her and she pulled back. Had he been that size in the tent? Why hadn’t she remembered that very important detail?

“Done,” Morrigan said, the feeble sound barely whispered above the noise of the water. She still blocked the water, so sudsy trails still lingered on his flesh.

“You’re dirty,” Ualan answered. His devouring eyes did not look away, nor did they appear to want to. “Remove that dress and wash.”

“You said that we…that slaves…” Her face reddened.

“Wash for me,” Ualan ordered. He growled low in his throat like a beast waiting on his prey. He inched slightly closer and stated in a tone that was both commanding and exhilarating, “Remove your gown.”

Morrigan started to move toward the side to obey. He lowered his hands on the rocks, trapping her.

“Here,” he commanded softly, his tone ragged with promise. “Undress for me here.”

Morrigan trembled, but she couldn’t deny the look in his eyes. Reaching to her apron ties along her back, she drew the soaked material from around her waist. She leaned near him to toss it behind his back. It landed with a splat on the floor. His eyes glanced meaningfully down to the gown, waiting.

She struggled a little with the wet laces at her shoulder. It was difficult to wiggle free when the material kept clinging to her naked flesh. He didn’t move to help her. Finally, after much effort, she lifted the gown over her head to reveal the naked length of her body beneath. She tossed it in the same direction as the apron.

Morrigan shyly dipped her eyes before glancing up to see his reaction to her. She wasn’t disappointed. His molten gaze moved to take in every inch of her body. The water coursed down her overheated skin, but did not cool her rising temperature.

When he had looked his fill, he leaned slowly closer. His chest rose and fell in hard, fast breaths. Hoarsely, he ordered, “Wash.”

Morrigan blindly reached for the soap on the ledge. Taking some in her palm, she lathered her fingers. Gradually, she worked over her arms and shoulders. He devoured her every move with his hot gaze, feasting on the show she presented. Next, she scrubbed her face, leaning back to rinse it. When she could again open her eyes, Ualan nodded down to her breasts. His lips parted and she saw his tongue lingering just beyond the inner rim of his mouth.

She again obeyed, looking down as she worked. It was a mistake. The proof of his male prowess was reaching for her. Nervous, she quickly finished the rest of her body and then rinsed, turning her back on him. A low groan sounded. When she glanced back, he was gazing at her ass. She felt trails of soap glide over the cheeks, down the center crevice. His hand flexed against the curves in the rock wall, as if urging him to grab hold of her.

Without any real warning that he was going to move, he sprang into action and pressed her wet body into his tightly wrought form. She gasped at the feel of him. He gripped her tight. Residual soap caused them to slide intimately against each other.

Ualan lifted her in his arms and carried her to the steaming spring before setting her inside the bubbling water. The heated water curled around her toes and simmered up her legs. Ualan reached for a bottle of soap and stepped in after her. Squirting the white, creamy liquid on his hands, he brought the soap to a lather.

“You’re still dirty,” he insisted, bringing the lather to her flesh. “If you aren’t going to do a proper job, I will just have to do it myself.”

The hot spring steamed and churned around them. Morrigan hungrily followed his lead, squirting soap onto her palm to wash him again. The lather glided over their flesh, aiding their searching caresses. Ualan worked his fingers through her hair. Her hands slithered boldly over rock-hard muscles as she explored. Suds trailed down her face and she had to pull away from him to rinse. When she finished, she squirted more soap on her hands to continue exploring.

Her fingers rediscovered valleys and peaks. She pulled him closer as she investigated the length of his back, liking the way the soap made her nipples swish against him.

The agony of her desires had been imprisoned in her flesh, waiting for release from the moment she saw him. She kissed his neck and let loose a light, feminine moan.

He drew her back and lifted his soap-covered hand to her lips, running a finger across the swollen offering. Then, leaning over he kissed her deeply, showing her the soap was safe. The taste sweetened their kiss. She moaned against him.

Morrigan became more insistent. Sliding her hands down his body, over his hips, she wanted him to be as urgent as she. She wanted him writhing in desperation. She wanted it to end.

At his urging, her mouth tasted him, moving over his nipples, nipples that were sweetened by the soap. By the gentle force of his fingers, her kiss continued its way down his stomach. Morrigan dropped to her knees in the large bath. Suds drifted from her skin into the water. Her hands glided over his ass, grasping and squeezing the firm cheeks in slithering delight.

Stopping, she glanced up at him. His eyes were closed. She stared at the gorgeous length of him.

With a growl, he shot her an impassioned plea and lowered himself to sit on the edge. Taking her arm, he forced her kneeling body before him and placed her hand so that she could discover the heat of his desire. She wrapped her soapy fingers around his cock. The soap was like a drug in her mouth, exploding on her taste buds, urging her to again kiss his stomach.

Ualan spread his legs, allowing her closer access. With a firm hand on her shoulder, he urged her mouth downward to his erection. He was overconfident, unashamed by what he wanted as he drew the tip of his member to rub her lips. One hand stayed on her shoulder, the other found itself winding in her hair. Her breath deepened. Her locks tumbled wetly around her shoulders. He locked his fingers on her head, and he pulled her lush mouth onto him.

Morrigan gasped, unsure what to do. But as the sugary temptation of the soap entered her mouth, she sucked the sweet taste from him. Ualan groaned loudly in approval. Firmly, he used her hair to control her, forcing her mouth to journey over his erect member. Morrigan smiled against him, reveling in the size and taste, addicted to the control she gained over him. Her fingers dug into his thighs. She sucked harder, learning from Ualan how to please him.

Ualan’s passion was loud as he groaned without inhibition. Morrigan was surrounded in sensations—the warm, gentle caress of water, the hardness in her mouth, the firm insistence of the hand in her hair. She grabbed his hips to command his thrusts. No other thrill compared to how she felt in these intimate moments. He called out her desires, taught her how to fulfill them. Nothing mattered. She couldn’t think, couldn’t act beyond the will of his body and she loved it. With him there was no shame, no stopping.

Suddenly, he tensed, jerking her off before he exploded. With a groan of release, he spilled himself into the bath. A contented moan escaped his stiffly parted lips and he lowered himself into the water to wash off. Morrigan reached for him. Without pausing, he grasped her firmly by the hips and turned her around so she was on her hands and knees before him in the water.

Leaning over her shoulder, he gently ran his fingers down her spine. She made a weak noise, waiting for the torment to end. Her body was fevered, ready. To her horror, he said, “Thank you, slave, for the gift. You can stay in my home.”

When Morrigan looked back over her shoulder, it was to see his arrogant, naked ass striding from the bathroom. She choked on a disappointed sob.

He had left her wanting.

Again.

Ualan hid from his wife’s view as he took several deep breaths. The sweetness of his release became dampened by the bitterness of her unfulfilled desire. Pulling away from her when she so clearly wanted pleasure had nearly broke his resolve. It wasn’t natural to deny a mate.

Yet, the slave-master laws were old and clear. He could not bring her pleasure. As a wife, she was his partner, on equal footing. As a slave, she was beneath a prince. She could willingly give him pleasure, but he couldn’t return the favor.

He did what he had to.

It was the path she chose.

Then why did he feel like he’d just ripped his own heart out of his chest?

Chapter 14

The next few days did not pass in pleasantness. Morrigan refused to speak to Ualan, shying to the other side of his home whenever he was near. He didn’t dare ask what she did all day by herself and her silently festering anger didn’t allow for conversation. He knew she spent every moment alone, for slaves were not allowed company, aside from their masters and other slaves. There were no other slaves in the Draig kingdom.

After discovering his wife’s cleaning was definitely worse than her dirtying, he had sent a group of servants to go over his home and fix the mess. They were instructed to only speak in the old tongue so Morrigan had sat quiet the entire time, not understanding them. They reported back to him that she had not tried to break her silence. The news was supposed to make him happy. It didn’t.

The truth was he left his home during the day to avoid her accusing glances. He made sure to send her food through a silent Mirox. Unlike the others, the man had told him the lady tried to talk to him on several occasions. Ualan could tell the servant hated not being able to respond in kind.

A few times he thought to sense tears in her gaze, but she turned too quickly for him to really see if they were there. Her pain struck a chord of discontent within his chest. The crystal had tried to join their feelings so that their marriage may be blessed with understanding. He had accepted it by accepting the marriage. She had not.

His wife would never understand how hard it had been for him to leave her in that needy condition. Until she accepted him freely, she would never experience his feelings as he did hers.

He understood her anger was just a defense, hiding the deeper rejection she felt in his dismissal. He cursed himself for his weakness in accepting her slave-gift. He should have known better. Had he been thinking clearly, he would have known better. But when she kissed him so willingly with lips that were made for giving him pleasure, she had weakened him and had taken a good part of his sense from him. Now, it was all he could do not to go to her again. However much she was hurting, he was hurting tenfold, for guilt without a way to atone was a heavy burden for a warrior to bear.

“You missed practice again, brother,” Olek said, looking down at where Ualan sat against a giant tree trunk. The man looked much like Ualan, with the same build and same brown hair, though he chose to wear his sides in braids. Olek’s soft green eyes were strained and tired, but he managed a weary smile.

Ualan raised a hand in greeting, not bothering to stand or explain as he turned his attention back to the place where Morrigan had yelled at him after their wedding ceremony was concluded. The soft, murmuring rhythm of the stream trickled nearby. The green skies were light and blew stirrings of clouds over the distance. He saw them through the thick branches. The trilling call of the blue sofliar nesting overhead filtered down to them.

Taking a seat beside his brother, Olek lifted a weed from the patch of grass and thoughtfully plucked it into his mouth. “I see we are both cursed. Or else you would not be avoiding your duty or me mine.”

Ualan didn’t even try to deny it. “My wife has proclaimed herself a slave. Since she is the one to indenture herself, I cannot release her.”

“I cannot help you there. The law states clearly that only she can seek the royal pardon.”

“She won’t,” Ualan said to the unasked question in his brother’s steady gaze. “And I have no idea how to persuade her.”

“Does she know who you are? Does she know it is you who can help clear her?”

“Always trying to act the part of the ambassador,” Ualan said.

“I am the ambassador,” Olek reminded him wryly.

“I have no wish for her to know who I am yet, not before she admits she is my wife. I would not have her considering my royal birth. That would defeat the purpose of the masks. Gardener or king, it is the same to the crystal bearers. And if I cannot find a way to tell her she is a princess, I’m not sure how I’ll tell her I’m a dragon-shifter.”

“I think our king is considering never doing business with Galaxy Brides again.” Olek chuckled, though Ualan could tell he was depressed. “For they have sent all his sons and nephews mor-forwyns.”

“That they have.”

“Is it true she announced she was leaving you right after breaking your crystal?”

“Woe that Morrigan should find a spaceport,” Ualan grumbled by way of an answer.

“Woe if she found a spaceport of our enemy,” his brother added. When Ualan glanced over in surprise, he continued, “There have been rumors that our brides have not been seen within the castle.”

“And who would dare to spread such a rumor?”

“Supporters of the Var would be my guess. Our father has decreed a feast in honor of his new daughters to coronate them. We have a week to convince them.”

“A week? Has he lost his mind? I do not relish the idea of our brides meeting. I should not like to see them banded together.” Ualan frowned. “I can’t hide the fact she is a slave. I can’t bring her out.”

“Ah, so you didn’t hear? Our mother has started a rumor amongst her maids that Princess Morrigan does it out of embarrassment for how she acted after binding you with the crystal. Soon it will be common news. She will be respected for purging her honor.”

Ualan had to concede to his mother’s silent tactfulness. Her diplomatic ways were a great complement to his bold warrior father.

“The king fears that the Var have spies within our walls,” Olek continued. “That is why he has ordered us to get our affairs in order. He wants to show the people our family is whole and the rumors against us are merely rumors.”

“And you, Ambassador?” Ualan asked. A week? How could his mother allow the king to make such a decree? He doubted he could get Morrigan to talk to him in a week, let alone accept her role as a princess and as a wife. Thinking of it, he grew dejected.

“I was to head to the shadowed marshes before the wedding began but I couldn’t get away from festival duties. The cat-shifters have become uncommonly bold,” Olek admitted. “I can sense it in them. They plan something.”

“Hmm.”

“I know something that will cheer you, brother.” Olek chuckled. “Yusef’s bride turned his own blade against his manhood. He was honor bound to put her in chastisement.”

Both brothers shared a hearty laugh. Their merriment echoed around them in the trees.

“Did she…?” Ualan snorted.

“No, just a nick.”

“I hear Zoran’s princess screams like a tree witch every time he’s tried to touch her,” Ualan admitted. “I’m glad he lives in the far side of the palace.”

“Mother is quite upset by it all.” Olek took the grass from his mouth and tossed it on the ground. He watched it float away. “It seems Zoran felt compelled to disfigure his wife and cut off all her hair. The castle is humming with the rumor and no one has seen her about the palace.”

“That makes no sense. Zoran would not shame his wife.”

“Our father says he saw it.” Olek shrugged. “He’s upset because of the celebration. My wife has these female contraptions, I will see if one won’t grow the poor woman’s hair back for her.”

“Yeah, if what you say is true, we cannot let more shame come to the family. We’ll be lucky to get through the night without one of our brides trying to kill us.”

Olek chuckled, but the sound held no humor.

“And you, brother?” Ualan asked. “What ails your bride that she won’t have you?”

Olek frowned, moving to stand. He held his hand down and pulled Ualan up to join him. “I truly do not know, but I think I am the most cursed of us all. My little solarflower wants nothing to do with me. At least your women fight you. Mine will barely even speak to me, let alone yell. How can I win a battle that will not be fought?”

Ualan decided he had enough silence to last him a lifetime—even if he hadn’t been ordered by his father to make things right before the feast. A warrior did not avoid battle and the time for strategic planning was over. His wife would come around and accept her role, he would see to that.

Unfortunately, standing with his hands on his hips, Ualan could see his slave did not feel the same way. She looked as if she would be perfectly content to keep lounging on his couch, staring at the round fire as if he didn’t exist. Morrigan still dressed as a servant, her hair tied into a knotted bun at the nape of her neck. He grimaced, hating the style, for it kept the locks from readily falling into his fingers.

He knew she kept the uniform as a silent protest against him, since he had not decreed that she should continue to wear it and her own clothes were in the closet, untouched in her bag. The uniform was clean and pressed, but he wished for a moment she would let him buy her the fine dresses of a lady. In the village, the seamstress had many bolts of cloth that would fit her coloring better. With a wicked smile, he acknowledged that it would also fit his very masculine desires to see her better attired—or not attired at all.

Ualan knew the moment she detected his presence by the way her breathing deepened then caught and held. There was also the telltale quickening of the pulse in her slender neck. If he focused his dragon hearing, he would be able to detect the rhythm drumming in his ear. He reluctantly admired her determination. She was a stubborn woman. From what he had seen in the past, most wives would have complained at the neglect, being forced to endure days of isolation and silence.

“Enough,” he grumbled in displeasure. “I will have no more of your silence, slave.”

“Would you rather I yell at you, caveman?” Her eyes flashed with heat and Ualan thought maybe silence was more golden than speaking. “Or just slit your throat while you sleep?”

Ualan, who had been tempted to form a smile, quickly scowled. Darting forward with supernatural speed to where she sat on the couch, he took her throat into his palms and squeezed. Morrigan gasped in surprise at the unexpected attack, but held perfectly still, refusing to show fear. Ualan did not take the life from her throat, but he knew he had the power in his single hand to do so.

“You dare to threaten your husband?” The dangerous gold of the dragon would be in his gaze, no matter how he tried to hide it. Morrigan’s eyes narrowed as she detected it.

Gritting her teeth, she ground out, “How many times do I have to tell you, cav—ugh!”

Ualan tightened his grip, cutting of her words and part of her air supply. Her knot unraveled at the gesture, as if it hadn’t been that secure to begin with. Silken strands of her dark hair spilled over his hands as she struggled. She clawed her fingernails into his arm, trying to draw blood but merely scratching the surface. He shook her once more. When she stiffened, flinching in fear, he loosened his hold. “Call me that again, wife, and I will have your head. I have dealt with your insolence, but no more. Do you understand? I will have obedience and order in my home.”

Morrigan’s lips trembled. Foolishly, she slapped his face, yelling, “I am not your wif—”

The hand tightened. He didn’t even wince as the sting of her hand imprinted on his face. “Do you understand?”

When he didn’t let go, Morrigan quickly nodded, though her eyes shot daggers. The hand softened, releasing her.

Morrigan pulled back, gasping and feeling her throat for injury. It was fine. He would never cause her real physical harm.

Ualan narrowed his eyes and considered what he should do.

Taking several more breaths, she muttered, “I am not your wife, ca—” She stopped herself in time. “I’m your slave. You made that clear.”

Her words lacked the fire of conviction as her widened eyes stared at him.

Unknowingly, she pulled him to her. Not with hands, but silently beckoning all the same. Ualan’s gaze was summoned to her throat by the tips of her angered nerves. He saw the pink mark of his hand on her and was instantly sorry for it. Closing his eyes, he leaned to lightly kiss where his hand had been so rough, his lips naturally seeking to soothe her ache. She stiffened, as if waiting for another attack.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he murmured to the corner of her parted lips. “But you could be killed for threatening the life of…your master.” He had been about say “a prince”, but thought better of it. “I should have handled myself better. For that you have my apologies.”

Morrigan held very still. Her pulse beat violently but her voice was calm. “I didn’t mean to slap you. I was scared. I’m not a murderer. I would never kill anyone. I know I have a temper, but I am not completely to blame. You have put me in an unfair position.”

“I am the one person you should never fear,” he whispered, softly brushing his lips along hers. It was a delicate truce and he was almost afraid to move lest he damage it. He didn’t point out that she was the one who had put herself in this position. She was too agreeable now for him to risk enraging her.

“You’re the one person I do fear,” she said, her lips turning to speak against his. Her voice was whispery, as if in a trance. She sucked his breath into her mouth, and he felt the connection deepen. The truth rolled out of her unhampered. “You keep me prisoner.”

Ualan sighed. Her words hurt because he knew them to be true. She did fear him. How could he blame her? Every time she yelled, he yelled back, or much worse, he teased her into horrific, unrealizable passion and left her wanting.

Ualan understood what she was doing. She unconsciously tried to feel inside him as he felt inside her, to build the connection that would join their emotions together as only a wife and husband could. It would allow her to read his feelings, and with enough practice, she could read parts of his mind. He wasn’t ready for her to connect, not like this, not with the rift between them. Ualan could not allow her to feel his vulnerability toward her. If she did, he would be lost. She would know how to manipulate and control him. He had no doubt that this woman of his would do so mercilessly. If she got her way and figured out how to leave him, he would be damned to walk the rest of his long years alone.

“You keep yourself prisoner,” he said. “Say you are my wife and you will get your freedom. My home will be your home.” He couldn’t keep his kiss from forming against her mouth. “My world, your world.” Another kiss. “My bed….” This time he kissed her deeply, searing her, probing her, leaving him unable to finish the words.

Morrigan had tensed when Ualan walked into the room, momentarily surprised when he hadn’t continued past her as he had been wont to do the last several days. She knew he was giving her temper time to cool and possibly punishing her with the silent treatment. What he didn’t seem to understand was that she had navigated the stars for months at a time by herself with only a computer to talk to. Three days was nothing. She could hold out for a year. She’d done it before.

Blast it all, he smelled so good. It had been so hard the last several days. After he left her in the tub, she had stayed there for nearly an hour, panting, raging, crying, plotting his death in a hundred different ways. Her whole body craved him, more than the wanderlust, more than the adventure of traveling to distant galaxies. If he would just relent his stubborn ways…

Morrigan breathed heavily, knowing she should push him away, but she instead concentrated on discovering what the source of the weird power floating around her senses was. She let him kiss her for the moment. A fog overcame her like with the glowing crystal, connecting them, allowing them to sense each other. She didn’t know how, but she could almost feel his heartbeat reverberate slowly in her chest. It was like she could feel his desire for her, not just the desire he stirred in her.

He trailed kisses along her jaw, light and airy. Morrigan bit her lip to keep from crying out, forever tormented by what he did to her. She knew he would stop before she found pleasure. Hadn’t he always? But that faint hope inside her told her to wait, that maybe, just maybe he’d finish it this time.

Feeling the power of him, the steady control, did something to her sanity. Her insides melted and her head felt faint. When she looked into his eyes, she saw longing in him. Or did she see it? Morrigan peeked at him. No, his expression gave nothing away but more kisses.

Closing her eyes, the wave of his desires again filtered through her. He leaned over her, trapping her beneath him without touching beyond his mouth. His hands braced his weight on either side of her waist. She didn’t move, frozen stiff as he gently brushed feathery caresses over the skin, comforting the dull ache of his earlier anger. Her trembling fingers reached for his face where her handprint still glared. She’d hit him much harder than he’d grabbed her. Morrigan sensed that his anger had surprised him, just as her anger had surprised her.

Suddenly, an electrifying rush of emotions flooded her. She couldn’t process them all.

“What…?” Morrigan questioned, pulling back from him both physically and mentally. She blinked several times. The connection broke and the fog lifted.

“Don’t…” he started to say, but it was too late. The sensation was gone.

“I cannot be a wife, Ualan. Even if I wanted to stay here, I can’t. I have a home of my own, friends, a job I’m good at. What would you have me do? Stay and be a housewife? I can’t do it. My life would be hell and so would yours. Besides, you’re so young and…” she almost said handsome but hesitated.

His brow rose, as if knowing the word even though it went unspoken. “These duties can be learned. In fact, you will start training immediately with Mirox.”

“What?” Morrigan stiffened. All traces of tender feelings, save for the more erotically charged, were severed between them. “Do you even listen when I talk to you?”

“I listen, Morrigan,” he said softly with a smile that was all devil. “But your words make no sense. You will be a wife to me, make no mistake. Your honor is of utmost concern for it will reflect on mine. So even if you don’t take your vows to me seriously, I do.”

Morrigan gasped.

Ualan stood. His cock was still heavy in his pants but he acted like he didn’t even notice. Morrigan couldn’t look away. It was eye level with where she sat. Finally, she pried her eyes from his crotch and looked up at him. He insolently winked at her and then strode up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Caveman,” she hissed under her breath, making sure the word was too quiet for him to hear.

Chapter 15

“I understand now, my lady, why you have enslaved yourself,” Mirox said with a severe nod as he showed her how to sweep the floor with a broom. She was anything but an enthusiastic student, and he caught her eyes rolling and wandering more often than not. At least the broom contraption was easier than sweeping with her apron on her hands and knees. He chose to politely ignore her ill humor.

If she didn’t know about cleaning before, she definitely knew about it now and she hated it with an even greater passion. She had no idea that dust collected on so many things, so very fast. In her opinion, it was hardly worth bothering. It was to the point where she was almost grateful she couldn’t leave the house, because Mirox had to call several maids in to tend to the laundry and to beat the fur rugs in a different part of the complex. Those were more chores she really didn’t want to learn how to do. If she was going to beat anything it was going to be her captor with the broom handle.

“I apologize for not understanding it before,” Mirox continued. “It is a noble sacrifice you make. You honor your husband’s name and make the Draig people proud.”

Morrigan gave the man a quizzical look. What was he babbling on about? He didn’t speak to her for days. The three days of silence shouldn’t have been a problem for her. She’d gone much longer without conversation. Yet this situation felt different. She was confused—not about a story, but about a man. She found she needed a friend to talk to—anyone who wasn’t a seven foot tall barbarian with the sexiest blue eyes, and the firmest… Argh! She was doing it again.

“It must be hard to indenture yourself on a new planet and not be able to have anyone talk to you,” Mirox continued, handing the broom over.

“You’re talking to me.” Morrigan made quick work of the floor, glaring at the marble the entire time, hating it for being dirty.

Mirox scratched the scar on his nose, again not giving her ill humor any mind. Moving to sit on the stairs, he pushed out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. He watched her work.

“I was granted permission to speak so that I may instruct you,” he answered happily. “It is a great honor for me to have been asked.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled sarcastically under her breath. Teaching her to clean up after her caveman lord—great honor. “So that’s why you have been ignoring me? Because you had to?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Rigan is fine,” she said absently, before angling the broom at him. “All right, this is finished. What next?”

Mirox tried to hide his amusement. He pointed to the water bucket. “Mop.”

Morrigan contemplated dumping it on his head. Instead, she brought it to him without comment. He smiled. When she set it on the floor, he explained, “I must address you according to your rank, my lady.”

“My rank?” Morrigan whirled around to study him.

He nodded.

She narrowed her eyes, willing him to explain. When he didn’t, she prompted, “So I have a rank? What? Am I nobility? Do I have a formal title? Is it a military thing?”

Mirox avoided answering as he plunged into a long explanation of the fine points of mopping. Morrigan was soon distracted as she worked up a sweat, tediously sliding the mop where she had swept moments before.

“This really is hell,” she muttered when Mirox wandered off to the kitchen to switch out the mop water for her. “Ualan’s gods have a strange sense of humor putting me as his wife.”

“My lady?” Mirox called, not hearing her.

“I think these floors are done. We don’t need more water,” she yelled back.

“I quit right now,” Morrigan said firmly, eyeing the toilet. “I did not spend six months dredging through the Luxes mudlands to clean that. Haven’t you ever heard of a space-port? They clean themselves, you know. It’s why we call it social advancement.”

Ualan chuckled, hiding around the corner of the bathroom as he listened to his wife and Mirox fight. Mirox had diplomatically reported that she was a stubborn one, never complaining—well grumping, but not complaining. Ualan had translated that to mean she was refusing to do anything at all and expected to see Mirox strung up by his toes over the fire pit with his furniture ripped to shreds. He’d actually been pleasantly surprised to find his house in such great shape.

“My lady,” Mirox tried to sound reasonable, but Ualan heard the irritation in the man’s tone.

“No,” she stated darkly. “I’ve done everything else that you have asked me to. I’m tired. You can tell your lord to…”

Ualan smiled as he came around the corner to look at her. Her face flushed red in embarrassment but she quickly caught herself. Even disheveled, she was beautiful.

Mirox bowed instantly, “My lord.”

“Mirox,” Ualan returned. “Why don’t we let the slave take a break? She is looking rather worn.”

“Yes, my lord.” Mirox bowed, moving to leave. “I will be back in the morning, my lady.”

When they heard the door closing behind the man, Morrigan frowned. “Don’t do me any favors, master.”

To Ualan’s surprise, she grabbed the toilet brush and started furiously scrubbing the porcelain bowl. Hiding his laugh, he shrugged his shoulder and left her to her work. His wife had spirit, he’d give her that.

When she came out of the bathroom nearly an hour later, Ualan was sitting on the couch with a book. To his surprise, he saw her eye it with interest. Then, catching him watching her, she turned her attention away as if she didn’t care.

“It’s a theoretical account about my ancestors, put together by historical scholars. Would you like to see it?” he asked softly, angling it toward her in hopes of a truce. It was not to be.

“I can’t read your accursed language, master,” she snarled. “And I have no wish to learn.”

Ualan sighed. It seemed “master” was taking the place of “caveman”. Her lie was obvious. She had a curiosity that ran deep. He saw it in her eyes as well as felt it in her. He kept himself closed to her. He’d tried to open up to her before but that had not gone well. She couldn’t take the rush of himself he had given her. It was too much too soon.

“I know you’re interested, Rigan.” He motioned for her to sit next to him. “Take the book. I’ll teach you to read it.”

He might as well have offered to give her the blue plague. Ualan almost cringed at her heated look, though he should have expected it. She was beautiful when she was angry. Part of him believed that with enough commanding he could wear her down. It worked on the warriors he and his brothers ruled, and she was as stubborn as any Draig solider.

“I don’t want to read your stupid book,” she denied, though her gaze did dip to it again. “I don’t want anything to do with you, master.”

Unable to help himself, he gave her a seductive smile. Morrigan inhaled deeply. She might try to hide it, but she wanted a lot to do with him.

“Oh,” she huffed, turning away to walk back to the bathroom. “You are the most incorrigible…”

The rest of her insult was lost in a mumble. Ualan chuckled, secretly glad he didn’t have to hear the full brunt of her words.

Morrigan should have locked the bathroom door. She knew she should have, but the water of the natural spring was too inviting and by the time she remembered it she was already soaking in the tub and it was too late. Now Ualan was standing in front of her, his eyes narrowed in unabashed interest.

“Don’t even think it,” she warned preemptively. She sank deeper into the bath, trying to hide.

“What?” He grinned, leisurely trying to see into the bubbling water.

“You will be bathing yourself tonight, master.”

“No gift then?” Ualan sighed, turning away from her.

Morrigan’s relief was short lived for he began disrobing. “You’re not getting in here. You can wait until I’m done.”

“It is my home, slave,” he answered. But he didn’t step into the water with her. Instead he went to the shower, quickly washing.

Morrigan found herself staring as he showered. She couldn’t pull her gaze from him. The image mesmerized her neglected body. The mere sight confused her emotions, making her sex respond with a liquid fire as she remembered all too well what his skin had felt like against her hands. Water ran in tiny rivers down his back—slow, soapy, seductive rivers. One of those trails flowed down the center of his back, following the spine to a more than perfect ass. What in the universes did he do all day to stay so sculpted? It almost wasn’t fair to give one living creature so much allure.

Morrigan ran her finger across her bottom lip. He might not be touching her, but he was doing it again—stirring her passions to boiling without ending her suffering. She wanted to hate him, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the tight muscles of his hips long enough to form the thought. By the time he was finished, she still had not moved.

Flicking his hand, he shut off the water and reached for a towel. Holding it before him, but not wrapping it around, he turned to her and winked. Morrigan quickly looked away in mortification to realize he’d been aware of the show he was putting on for her. He wiped off his dripping face.

“See that you don’t boil yourself, slave. You look a little flushed.” He strode naked and wet from the room.

Morrigan watched him leave before remembering to answer. She yelled at the top of her lungs the only thing she could think of. “Stop messing up my floors!”

“Spoken like a true wife!”

Morrigan made a low noise of frustration and swore, if she ever got her hands on a knife, she would cut his sorry tongue from his barbarian mouth.

Chapter 16

Cleaning was bad. But this, this was intolerable.

“I’m not wearing that,” Morrigan stated, brows raised, hands on her hips. “And you can’t make me.”

She looked at the costume the dance instructor was holding out for her to try on. If the outfits of the Breeding Festival had been bad, these harem garments were simply horrendous. From what she could see, the thing would barely cover her most private of parts—and nothing else. Was that string supposed to go up her…? No way.

Cordele, the dance instructor who had been sent to teach Morrigan the traditional wife’s dance of pleasure, looked at Mirox in confusion.

Mirox sighed. Turning to study his charge carefully, he said, “His lordship instructed that if you did not wish to learn our traditional dances today, that I was to have you re-clean the entire house—starting with the bathroom.”

Morrigan balked. Those were her options? As she considered it, dancing sounded so much better than cleaning the entire house again. She would do almost anything to avoid that task. Her muscles were only a little stiff this morning, thanks to the hot spring, so how hard could wiggling around be?

“I didn’t say I wasn’t dancing. I just said that I wasn’t putting that on.” Morrigan pointed at the skimpy outfit Cordele held. “I’ll wear what I have on.”

The woman lowered her arm with a shrug that said suit yourself.

Cordele flicked her hand over a music box unit on her wrist. Instantly Qurilixian music sounded in the home. The woman lifted her hands and began to sway them, along with her hips, nodding at Morrigan to do the same. With an unenthusiastic sigh, she obeyed. She didn’t care much for the dance’s name, but once she got into it, the dance wasn’t too bad. She might even call it fun.

Her instructor wasn’t allowed to speak, except to issue commands like a drill sergeant, which made for a long day of lessons.

“I don’t know why he wants me to learn this,” Morrigan said at one point to the observing Mirox. She dipped forward, copying Cordele. She had taken off her apron and rolled up her sleeves. She could see why the skimpy outfit would have been more comfortable on her heated flesh, but she was too stubborn to change into it now.

“It pleases a husband to have his wife dance for him,” Mirox answered as if such a thing were common knowledge. “You are doing very well.”

“What if I told you, Mirox, that I don’t really care about pleasing Ualan?” Morrigan laughed when Mirox actually slid off the couch in shock.

“My lady,” he scolded as he righted himself. Shaking his head at her, as if she were an insolent child, he said, “You should not say such things, even in jest.”

Morrigan’s grin widened as she flicked one wrist and then another. Cordele nodded in approval. Tilting her head, she queried, “The other day, why did you say that being a slave was a noble thing for me to do? It doesn’t feel very noble. I mean, I’m a slave.”

“You purge your reputation, my lady,” Mirox answered. Then, seeming to understand her confusion, he said, “The slave is the lowest rank, a very hard position to be in. Most would agree to be a servant. We respect you for choosing the hardest path. It shows you have self-discipline and will make your husband proud.”

Morrigan didn’t think correcting Mirox on the technicalities of her relationship would solve any of her issues, so she let the reference to her having a husband slide.

“It is a cleansing time, a selfless time,” Mirox continued, absently scratching the scar on his nose.

Her journalistic curiosities were piqued. When this was over, she might even be able to sell a better upload program to Galaxy Brides and make some real space credits.

“How do you mean?” Morrigan leaned to the right, arching her back as her hand circled above her. She then folded her arms about her chest and wiggled her hips.

“Well, you deny yourself bodily pleasures. A slave cannot partake of the common meals, cannot be spoken to except in rare instances, cannot copulate or be given pleasure.”

“You mean no sex whatsoever?” Morrigan furrowed her brow, thinking of her overly denied body. She turned away from the man and then back again.

Cordele stopped the music, shook her head, and made Morrigan try the move again.

When they resumed the dancing, Mirox said, “To do so would insult the slave’s chosen station and their reason for denial. It is our law and is considered a great lack of honor to the person giving them pleasure.”

“And what happens if you are caught breaking this law?” Morrigan asked, a plan of blackmail forming in her brain.

“The person will be stripped of title and be made a slave themselves until they have repented and been forgiven. The master becomes the slave.”

“And if the slave gives the master pleasure? Does the slave become the master?” Morrigan asked, completely enthralled with the custom she stumbled upon.

Mirox cleared his throat, embarrassed by the forward question.

If she could control Ualan and make him a slave…

She grinned. There were a lot of things she would want her little slave to do for her. First, he’d finish what he’d started for once. Desperate arousal had become an all too constant reality. Yes, she took care of it herself, but that only eased physical tension for a very short time. Then, she’d make him finish it again, and again, and again…

Oh, yeah, and she’d make him break up with her too.

And clean every toilet she could find.

And help her find a ride home.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she forced herself to hear the answer.

“It is allowed,” Mirox said, almost too delicately. “And it is a great honor for the master to receive such a gift.”

“So they can’t demand it?”

“No, they cannot,” he confirmed. “If the master is particularly persuasive, he can convince the slave to please him. But he can never force her.”

“If what you say is true, then your law does not apply to royalty?”

Mirox furrowed his brows, not following her.

“I mean, if the queen is displeased with her slave and can make the slave whore for the soldiers…what?”

Mirox choked on his own tongue, coughing violently.

Morrigan knitted her brows at the look he gave her.

“Chosen women could never be made to whore,” he whispered, as if unsure he should even speak. “No woman could ever be made to whore.”

Cordele clapped her hands for attention, saving Mirox from the conversation as she waved him away from her student. Morrigan sighed, following a twirl. Mirox had given her a lot to think about. If she could just enslave Ualan, then she could make him let her out of the house.

Cordele smiled at her student and informed Morrigan that she was doing rather well, for a beginner. Directing her words at Mirox so as not to break the rule of not speaking to Morrigan, she said. “Her husband should be pleased with her efforts. With a little practice, she will be ready to dance for him in the common hall for all to see.”

“Oh, yes!” Mirox agreed. “That would be a great honor for both if she did it well.”

Morrigan’s spin faltered and she tripped over the side of the couch.

“Much practice,” Cordele amended, eyeing Morrigan on the floor.

There was no way she was performing for the common hall. Dancing might be great exercise, but not even Ualan would see her talent firsthand.

Morrigan couldn’t have been more wrong.

Standing, barely clad in the disgustingly skimpy dance costume, Morrigan scowled in displeasure. It seems Mirox neglected to tell her that at the end of the lesson, she was supposed to give a little dance recital for her husband to prove she had been working and paying attention to her lessons.

“I should have chosen cleaning,” she grumbled bitterly.

The costume was no more than a pink gem-studded bra and matching hot pants that formed at sort of G-string in the back. A long veil was pushed into her hair to hide her backside—that was until she swished her hips back and forth.

“I’m not going out there like this.” Morrigan told Cordele who was smiling at her like a fool.

Cordele didn’t answer as she placed a music bracelet on Morrigan’s wrist.

Morrigan frowned. She was going out there. She knew she was. Ualan’s decree had been clear and there had been just enough threat in his gaze, daring her to disobey. Hmm, maybe dancing would be a good thing. She would just have to keep her wits about her to put her plan into motion. Making him her slave would have its privileges, as long as he finished what he stirred so easily in her body. Maybe then she would not be tormented by thoughts of him. He would be out of her system and she could really leave this place behind her—one more story in a collection of assignments.

Become the master, Morrigan chanted silently. Make him the slave. Then you will make a deal for your freedom.

Morrigan watched Cordele leave and peeked through the opening door to where Ualan waited for her on the couch. From what she could see, his clothes were comfortable, hugging carelessly to his strong flesh. She never in her life saw a man who made clothes look so…so delectable.

She made a face at the back of his head, sticking out her tongue and rudely mocking him with silent curses. Taking a deep breath, she hesitated. She wished she could have been more confident, but her hands were shaking now she was alone. It angered her that she cared about his approval.

Become the master, she chanted again like a mantra meant to give her strength. Make him the slave. Then you will make a deal for your freedom.

She grew empowered. Soon, he would be eating out of the palm of her hand.

Ualan was already tense. He knew this was going to be one of the longest nights of his life. He’d caught a glimpse of Morrigan’s shaking waist when he came home. The image was enough to make him second guess what he was forcing her to do.

When Morrigan disappeared into the bathroom to change nearly a half hour ago, he had dimmed the lights and set the mood. He had changed into loose cotton pants with a drawstring tie in the front. The dark charcoal color was a nice contrast to the lighter cotton shirt he wore, and would help to hide his already growing reaction to her.

She’s got to learn her place as my wife if we are to have any chance at a happy marriage, he told himself.

You’re an idiot, his self answered.

“She will be out in a moment,” Cordele whispered in the Qurilixian tongue. Her words were well pronounced, but the accent of her birth still resonated within them.

Ualan nodded. His throat was too dry to thank the woman as she left.

He sat facing the center firelight. His bare feet flexed in front of him, and his arms lifted to the back of the couch. If he had anything to do with it, she would be repenting her slavery tonight. There was only so much sexual torture a man could sanely take and he’d pretty much hit his limit five seconds into meeting her.

By all that was sacred, he wanted her. She haunted his dreams with the memory of her lush lips. She haunted his days with the persistence of her stubborn fire. Ualan was fast learning that he wasn’t a patient man. He wanted her and he meant to have her.

Ualan nearly jumped up in anticipation when he heard footsteps. He froze, forcing himself not to spin around to see her.

“Should we get this over with?”

Lifting his hand, he motioned her forward with the tilting of his fingers. “Come.”

Coming before him in the center ring, but not too close, Morrigan waited. His eyes stayed with the fire, as he tried to brace himself to look at her in a dance costume. He tried to feign boredom, but it was hard.

“Ready, master?” she asked, her tone filled with a husky sweetness.

Ualan’s neck almost snapped as he turned to look at her. The sound of her voice was seductive on its own. Seeing her scantily clad was…well…it was… By all the gods he was going to dishonor himself.

The firelight outlined her body, haloing around her barely clad hips, sparking like stars off the crystals of her bodice and panties. Her feet were bare, as was tradition. The little dancing lights hypnotized him and he stared at her chest and waist with an intense male hunger raging within him. His cock, which seemed to be in a constant state of half-arousal at all times anyway, gladly stirred as it hardened to torment him with lust.

She looked at him in expectation. He swallowed nervously, unable to form any words. Her lush lips parted in even breath, tempting him to her. He held back. He had to.

“Proceed,” he answered, the word barely able to escape his tight throat. He couldn’t have spoken more if he wanted to.

Morrigan narrowed her gaze to study him, as he felt his eyes shifting with liquid gold. He caught himself, stopping any more of a shift. First things first. Let her get used to him as a man before he introduced her to the dragon.

Ualan’s feet lounged forward crossed at the ankles. He wished more than anything she would kneel before him and run her fingers up his legs.

“Dance,” he whispered, aware of the sparks between them. His arms stayed over the back of the couch and he gripped his hands tight to keep them there.

Morrigan smiled, as if she couldn’t help herself, and ran a finger over her wrist. Music sounded softly, an archaic, primitive rhythm that easily set the mood for seduction. At first she appeared nervous and her movements were stiff. She closed her eyes, her lips moving as if she counted to herself. By small degrees, her body loosened as if she felt the seductive music inside her, stirring up a primal passion. When she again looked at Ualan, it was with confidence.

He was frozen, his chest heaving in animalistic pants. As she turned away from him to shake her hips in undulating motions, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Her nearly-bare backside teased from the sides of the long veil, causing his head to automatically bob in the opposite direction for a better peek. His fingers gripped into tight fists, the talons of a partial shift puncturing the couch. He quickly snapped his jaw up and loosened his hands before she could see his enthralled expression.

The music continued. She had his undivided attention. Morrigan gave him a half smile and her eyes narrowed as if to suddenly challenge him. She slowly worked her way forward, gyrating her hips and moving so that the dancing sparkles over her breasts demanded notice. Her long legs were bare, clad only in firelight. Her dark eyes glittered with the power of an enchantress. A battle lit inside him, and he matched the stimulating look she gave him. She danced within his reach and he felt himself smiling at her. Twirling, her legs spread open and the dancing stopped.

Why did she stop? The music still played. It wasn’t supposed to end. Not yet. He wanted to see more.

With her back towards him, Morrigan suddenly tossed the long veil over her shoulder to expose her ass before dropping to a crouched position. Knees to the side, she artfully maneuvered back so that she was astride Ualan’s feet. Her hips came up before her head, making slow circles as they climbed.

Ualan shot forward in surprise and almost came completely off the couch. He’d never seen anything like it before. The smell of her engulfed his enthralled senses. His mouth opened, wanting to give a love bite to his wife’s very luscious ass.

Her dance said she knew what her body begged him for. And so help him, he wanted to give it to her.

Morrigan hid her mischievous expression as she added her own moves to the routine. She was suddenly thankful she’d made friends with the exotic dancer she’d lived with, while being undercover for a month in the Zigar complex. She had been investigating a secret romance between the Zigar president and his brother’s wife. What a mess that situation had been. She’d tried to pitch a more political piece, but Gus shot it down.

Ualan’s breathing deepened behind her and she heard his nails scratching the furniture. Oh yeah, she had his attention.

She made her way back upright and turned while swinging her legs to straddle his outstretched feet. She lowered herself to hover over his knees. Ualan’s hands were crossed over his chest. His eyes were transfixed on her, clearly eager to see what she would do next.

Morrigan knew the song was nearing its end. She worked her hips in agonizing circles, moving her feet and hands in waves as she made the journey closer. His head tilted back and his hands tightened their grip on his arms. With a swing, she dipped her hips low, almost low enough to brush her ass against his legs. Ualan straightened, pulling his feet in as she wove her arms near his head.

The music faded. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath. Seeing his passion-laden eyes, she was as seduced by her performance as he was. Slowly, she lowered her hands from near his head and stood before him.

Blinking heavy lids, she whispered, “Is my master pleased?”

Ualan’s answer was a growl as he grabbed her roughly and pulled her astride his lap. Instantly, he began kissing her neck. His fingers traveled her spine, forcing her forward. Morrigan grabbed his shoulders, startled by the passionate press of his body to hers. He didn’t respond to her small struggle.

Ualan released her neck from his searing kisses. Taking her hips, he slid her forward to press into the hot, throbbing length of him. Morrigan gasped. Cotton and a G-string was no match for the fire burning in their loins. The intimate contact shot a potent spark through her body, filling her pussy with moisture and heat.

“Do you feel how pleased I am, Rigan?” He undulated into her.

She made a weak noise in response. Possibly her plan had worked a little too well.

“Do you feel what you do to me, slave?”

Morrigan panted delicately, nodding.

His eyes flashed with golden fire. “Where did you learn to dance like that? Cordele does not teach such a thing.”

“Zigar complex,” she answered, too far gone to think of a lie.

Before Morrigan realized what he was doing, her top loosened and fell forward to bare her breasts. His hands pulled the studded material off her. She kept her hands on his shoulders. He gently massaged her hips. “Dance for me again.”

Morrigan tried to stand. Ualan shook his head in denial. He waved a finger over her wrist to start the music anew.

“Here. Dance for me here.”

He pulled her hips forward so she was intimately pressed to his full arousal. His gaze bore into her, waiting, daring, begging.

Slowly, she began to move her arms. Ualan nodded, pleased. His gaze devoured her, focusing on her naked breasts. Her hips circled near his waist in a slower mimicry of what she had done earlier, brushing her sex against his cock in teasing strokes.

“Mmm,” he groaned, closing his eyes in pleasure. “You will be the death of me, woman.” His body swayed slightly beneath her, dancing with her in a private rhythm. “You make me burn, Rigan.”

His hair fell over his shoulders. He moved as if he would take her breast in his mouth, but then held back with a bite of his lips, denying them both.

She stopped dancing, her arms falling to his shoulders. Unable to stop herself, her body too on fire to allow her to think straight, she begged, “Make love to me, Ualan. End this torment. I can’t be denied again.”

With a rip, he tore at her panties, opening them at both hips. He tugged them from between her thighs. She trembled at the caress. It would be so easy to lower his cotton pants and make him slide into her.

Taking her now naked hips, he squeezed her ass and forced her to rub against him. Blocked by the barrier of cotton, he rocked her against his shaft, letting her get a feel.

Good thing he held on to her or else she would have fallen off his lap as a small spasm of pleasure shot through her.

“Is this what you want?” His voice left no doubt who was in charge. He gave her a tempered thrust.

“Yes,” she panted weakly. Her heart hammered in her ears. She clutched his shoulders, letting him control her movements.

“You want me inside of you, don’t you, Rigan?” he whispered hotly. “You want to ride me?”

“Oh, gods, yes,” she pleaded, not completely knowing what she agreed to.

“Then say it, Morrigan, say the words.”

“I want you inside me,” she panted, near frenzy. “I want to ride you.”

Ualan grinned, as if satisfied. Leaning her back, he licked her peaked nipple. Growling against her breast, he demanded, “Who am I to you, Rigan?”

“My master.”

“Who am I?” he insisted again, biting the solid nub slightly as punishment when she didn’t answer correctly. He licked the hurt right after with the full press of his soothing tongue.

“My master!” she cried louder. Oh, she was close. Finally. Finally. Finally.

He pulled her away from his arousal before she came. Morrigan blinked in confusion. Her hips strained against his strong hands but he held her firm and with little effort. Their lungs heaved for air as he denied them both.

“I am your husband,” Ualan stated. “Say it.”

Her lips trembled, tempted. But she shook her head in denial. She held on to her last bit of sanity.

“Say it. Gods’ bones, Rigan, say it and end this game. Tell me I am your husband. Say you are my wife and end this. Let me have you.”

“You,” Morrigan gulped for breath. Her body hated her before the words even got out. A tear threatened to fall. “You are my master and I am your slave.”

“Oh, but you are a stubborn woman!” Ualan tossed her off his lap onto the couch. His entire length shook and he balled his hands into fists. “Why start this again without the intent of staying with me? You are cruel to torment us both.”

“Me?” Morrigan screeched in anger. Heat filled her flushed features. She tried to cover herself from view, but her hands were not very effective blockades. Denied passion made her quicker to yell. “You’re the one who can’t take no for an answer. You are not my husband. We are not married. Why can’t you understand that, Ualan? I know your ego is hurt, but it shouldn’t be. I don’t want to be married to anyone. It has nothing to do with you. It’s not my fault you don’t finish what you start. Not in the tent. Not here. Not in the bath. Not in the shower. You just tease and pull away leaving me ready to implode and take this entire planet with me. Have you heard of the Jagranst? Their planet exploded and I’m pretty sure it must have been because some poor woman was tortured by a caveman like you.”

“Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me. I am your husband,” he yelled.

“No, you’re not. You are a lunatic who can’t seem to understand when he’s being dumped. I want to break this off Ualan. I want to go home.” Her voice grew louder.

So did his. “This is your home, Rigan. Resign yourself to it.”

“But I don’t love you.”

His gold-filled eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared.

“Then what is this between us?” Ualan asked with a suddenly deceptive softness. He gestured to the couch. “Tell me you didn’t feel it. Try to deny it.”

“That’s just lust, Ualan. Pure lust. That’s all. Don’t confuse it for something it’s not.”

He looked as if she’d slapped him. Part of her wanted to take the words back, to say she was sorry, to say she was his wife and to beg him to please just make love to her.

His mouth opened and nothing came out. Whipping around, he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

Morrigan dropped wearily to her knees. Realizing that her maid outfit was locked up with Ualan in the bathroom, and that she was standing in the front hall shivering and naked, she quickly ran up the stairs to his room. Going to the closet, she began reaching for her bag when she spied Ualan’s large cotton shirts and pants neatly folded on a shelf. Knowing it would cover her better than any nightgown she owned, she slid them over her body. They smelled like him and part of her thought she deserved the torture.

When she hurried back downstairs, tying the drawstring at her waist, Ualan was waiting for her to come down.

“Ualan?” she began, never knowing what she might say to him at such a time. The anger had faded as fast as it rose, leaving her sad and lonely. Maybe it was the smell of him on the clothes. Or maybe it was the feelings that refused to die in her stomach and chest.

Apparently, his anger had yet to wane. He snarled at her, brushing past her to go to the stairs the second she came off them.

“You wish to remain a slave.” He changed his mind and stormed back down the stairs.

Morrigan swallowed nervously. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“You make it like this.” He studied her face for a long time.

Morrigan saw he was hurting. Now was not the time to make any important decisions. She needed to clear her head. She needed distance.

“You will cook for me tomorrow, slave,” he said at last. “Mirox will tell you what to do.”

It was another punishment.

With that he stormed away from her and this time he did not come back down.

Chapter 17

The next morning when Morrigan awoke from her troubled dreams, Ualan was gone. She was glad for it. But, like he promised, Mirox came to her bright and early to show her how to prepare a traditional Qurilixen dish.

Well, saying he was showing her would have been too generous. The man sat in a chair watching her as he gave instructions, like a culinary sergeant from hell.

“Add more honey,” Mirox said from his chair.

Morrigan wrinkled her nose and made a sour face he couldn’t see. She slammed down her hand towel and grabbed the honey, not bothering to hide her furious mood. Her arms ached. She felt she had been kneading the dark blue dough for at least an hour. It stuck to her fingers, to the honey container, to the towel. As she squirted honey into the bread mixture, she grimaced. Now this was slave work.

Morrigan worked the honey into the dough a few times before stopping. She lifted dough-covered hands over the bowl and wiggled her fingers to try and get the sticky stuff off. Blue clumps splatted on the clean floor.

Mirox frowned. Sitting forward, he took a towel from the counter and swiped up her newest mess.

“This is fine,” she grumbled. The bread started to puff up so she poked the elementary picture of a face into it before punching that face with her balled fist to get the whole mixture to go back down.

Morrigan was hurt. Her body ached, her mind was overtired and she felt as if she was on fire all the time. One thought of her strong-willed master caused her cheeks to flush and her legs to weaken like she was some kind of simpering female.

Morrigan Blake was not a simpering female.

She remembered begging him to fuck her and punched the dough with renewed vigor.

Every time. Every blasted time! she thought, more than a little upset that he hadn’t finished what he started—again.

Make love to me, her head mocked. How pathetic was she? She had actually begged him.

Become the master, Morrigan silently ridiculed herself further, her mouth moving to unconsciously mouth the words to the countertop. Luckily, Mirox was turned from her. Make him the slave. Then you will make a deal for your freedom.

Not bloody likely!

“Either mix the dough a little longer and do it correctly, my lady,” Mirox said, “or let it rise.”

“They should invent a machine to do this,” she grumbled. She pointed at a contraption on the counter that had a paddle fixed in place over a bowl. “Like that thing. What is it called?”

“A mixer.” Mirox looked like he tried not to laugh. “Lord Ualan wished for you to learn the correct way, the traditional way.”

Morrigan sighed as she began kneading again, making faces at the dough. She pulled a hand out to stretch her shoulder and when she drew it back she accidently knocked sugar into the bowl with her elbow. Mirox frowned as she quickly righted it. After brief consideration, she kneaded the sugar into the dough too. Morrigan wished she had turned the tables on Ualan, made him be her slave. See how he liked being made to bow constantly at her feet. See how he liked having to cook her meals.

“Maybe we should start over.” Mirox grimaced.

“No, this will be perfectly fine. I’m not doing this for another hour. Besides, I wasn’t sure which spices you were talking about when I basted the, uh, wil—wilddeor?”

“Yes, my lady, wilddeor,” Mirox said, looking weary.

“It smelled fine,” she returned, shrugging.

Mirox swallowed nervously. She knew he was now wishing he had been paying more attention to her—hovering right above her every move.

“I’m done mixing. Give me the pan you said to put it in,” she ordered.

Mirox handed it to her, not saying a word.

Morrigan washed her hands beneath the running water, smiling gratefully when Mirox pumped soap onto them for her. He watched her dump the dough into the pan. She didn’t bother to level it before sticking it into the oven without bothering to check on the meat.

Sighing, Mirox pulled open the oven door. “The meat is browning nicely.” He shut it again. “I think you should get a salad ready.”

Morrigan looked at the refrigerator and sighed, not feeling like it. Mirox pulled out the salad ingredients for her. He tried to smile while handing her translucent purple leafy ball and loose yellow spotted leaves. She dropped them on the counter. He retrieved a knife and motioned for her to cut. She stabbed the purple ball with a knife and brought the tip back up with the skewered vegetable embedded on the end of the blade. She painstakingly pulled the vegetable off and stabbed it again. Mirox nervously took the blade and began chopping with apt fingers.

Morrigan smiled wryly behind his back as the man took over making the salad. Her ploy had worked. Slowly, she moved back to his chair to watch him.

“Does this go in the oven, too?” she asked sweetly.

Mirox almost chopped off a finger. Glancing at her, he said nothing.

It was only after he dumped both the yellow spotted and translucent purple leaves in the bowl and was tossing them together, that he seemed to remember she was supposed to be doing the work. “Come, chop, just like I did.”

Morrigan picked up the knife and, dropping the pretense of not knowing how to use it, she sliced into a ripe tomato-looking thing.

“Ah, well done, my lady. You are a very quick learner. You should be proud.”

Morrigan indifferently tossed the tomato into the bowl. “Can we be done now?”

Ualan growled while he threw six knives at an already marred post. The blades hit dead center in a perfect circle with the last one embedding in the center ring. The accomplishment only caused him to growl again as he went to grab the blades. Ripping them from their post with angry jerks, he marched back to his original spot and did it again. The young warriors, who were neglecting their own practice to watch the outraged prince, murmured amongst themselves in awe of his skill. None were so bold as to approach him in his dark mood.

Ualan burned inside. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t think. Every time he went home his cock took it as a sign to come to life—not that his aggravating wife was ever willing to relieve him. That very morning he had to see to it himself—again. This was not how marriage was supposed to be.

“Ach,” Agro grumbled, coming to join the spectators. “But can he do it with his eyes closed?”

Ualan turned at him to glare. “Can you with blackened eyes?”

Agro’s eyes were still bruised from Ualan’s attack, though they started to fade to a purplish yellow. The beefy giant grimaced good-naturedly. He held no grudge.

“I should thank you,” Agro called, his Qurilixian accent rising with a soft burr. “My wife has insisted she administer her special medicine. Tell me, would you like me to punch you so you can see if yours will do the same?”

Ualan swore a black curse upon the man, throwing the knives with even greater force. They embedded nearly to the hilt. Morrigan would more than likely have his head first. If he closed his eyes he could still hear her begging him to end their torment. She had asked him to take her. But what could he do? He had to refuse them both until she relented her hardheaded ways. He would not let her live with an illusion of leaving him. He would never let her go. His heart could not take it.

Agro was unconcerned with the curses as he went to retrieve the blades. Moving past where Ualan stood, he put even greater distance between himself and the post. Throwing, he embedded the knives in a snakelike line.

“Blackened eyes,” he announced with great flair. The spectator warriors cheered in approval. Knife throwing was one of their greatest entertainments.

When Ualan went to the blades, Agro joined him.

Speaking low so none could hear, Agro said, “Tell me, Ualan, do you treat your wife with the same delicacy you have been treating these blades?”

Ualan glanced at him, confused.

Agro took the last blade before Ualan could pull it. Bouncing it in his hand, he said conversationally, “If you haven’t noticed, she be a might softer than these fools out here.”

Agro pointed the blade meaningfully at the soldiers. Ualan frowned, not following what the man was getting at.

“Let me give you a tip, from one surly warrior to another.” Agro handed the knife hilt first to the prince. Ualan took it and they began to walk back to the throwing line. “What is soft on the outside is usually even softer on the inside. We men are easy. If there is a challenge, we rise to it. If there is a fight, we shift and start swinging. If we need help, we ask the gods. Simple, right? Men are logical and make complete sense in everything that they do.” He paused and shook his head. “Now women? Not logical. I’m married, so I’ve had to learn a thing or two about the female ways. Women need softer handling or they get all emotional and cry and say weird things about feeling their feelings. Inside women are these little chemical things, and they get all shaken up when…well, you know how those little shake and pop chemical bombs we all make as children work?”

“The chemicals combine when you shake them up and they force their container to expand or explode depending on what you use to contain them,” Ualan said. Plenty of Draig children had gotten in trouble for those pranks.

“Exactly. Just like that. Women are fine until they get shook and then they explode. It might be with anger. It might be tears. It might be some strange stealth warfare you don’t know is coming, but you’ll sit down to eat and she’ll have made your least favorite meal to punish you.”

“You mean shaken emotionally?” Ualan reasoned.

“And I mean literally.” Agro gave him a look that said he was confident in what he was saying. “It’s chemical. I think walking around the house can even do it if they have enough chemicals in them. Sometimes my wife will be doing wife stuff, like picking my boots off the floor or vigorously scrubbing mud out of my clothes, and all that shaking sets her off, and she explodes into a demon beast that takes after me with my own shoe.”

“Are you sure? This doesn’t sound…”

“Yes, I’m sure! The only reason why there aren’t more explosions is because men know how to take care of it naturally. I’m not surprised the king didn’t think to explain this to you. You’ve probably never seen it as a child because your mother is a dragon like us so she’s most likely not prone to extra emotions. But these humanoid women?” He gave a long, troubled sigh. “You have to carry those bombs softly, not barking orders at them and riling them up. I’m only telling you this because your wife is a slave, and you can’t diffuse her bomb properly so you might be confused as to what’s happening.”

“How do I diffuse it?”

“That’s the taking care of it naturally part,” Agro said. “You take her to bed and you shake and shake her until she pops the way you want her to. That’ll get all the chemicals out and trust me, she’ll be very happy and her mood will improve. If you keep taking your wife to bed on a very regular schedule and making sure she gets her pop at the end, you’ll have a very happy life. One word of caution though, if you smell bleeding, you’ll naturally want to get on top of that, but approach cautiously to diffuse and be ready to run cause...” He gave a low whistle and shook his head. “The bleeds are unpredictable times.”

Ualan hated to admit that the man’s words made sense. He was sexually frustrated and it affected his moods. He could just imagine what it was doing to Morrigan if she was predisposed to being chemically emotional like Agro explained.

Ualan nodded, feeling better. As he started to walk away, he saw his brother Zoran coming to disperse the men and command them back to practice. He gave him a quick nod but didn’t stop. Zoran nodded back.

“Hey, prince, what about eyes closed?” Agro cried to the merriment of the departing crowd.

Ualan stopped. Closing his eyes before he spun, he blindly threw the blades before he was even fully turned. Four landed in the pattern of a cross on the post, the last landed in between Agro’s feet. Agro jumped slightly back and let loose a hearty laugh. Ualan slowly opened his eyes, knowing the blades had made their target before he even looked. With a quiet nod, he thanked Agro for his council.

Agro smiled slightly before waving him away with an impish grin. Before Zoran could repeat his command, Agro gruffly yelled at the watching soldiers, “Ach now, you pups, back to work.”

Chapter 18

When Ualan emerged from his bathroom, his hair wet and his body wrapped in a towel, it was to the ringing of his wife’s laughter. Morrigan hadn’t greeted him when he came in the door and he didn’t even know if she realized he was home. For a moment, his heart soared at the sound. It was so light, so feminine. It left him longing to hold her. The knowledge that he couldn’t left his chest feeling hollow.

Looking up, he saw the dome curtains were closed to make his house dim. It would be approaching the evening hour, though outside the world would be cast with daylight, albeit, the hazier daylight of dusk. Drawing his hand past the torches as he walked, he absently lit them to cast a soft, romantic glow over the front hall.

Quickly moving to his bedroom to dress, he found he was excited to see Morrigan. Agro’s advice lingered in his head. He would not have thought of a softer control over the harder side he showed the fighting men. A softer handling. It was such a simple concept. Trust that a man already married would come up with it. The chemical theory was new to him, but it made sense. He knew he felt better when she’d given him release and was desperate to return the favor.

In one fluid motion, he tore the towel from his naked body. He scratched his stomach as he went to retrieve his clothes. Choosing a relaxed outfit of dark blue cotton, he tugged the shirt over his head and slid the loose pants over his hips. He tied the drawstring at his waist, not bothering with underwear. His house clothes were much more casual than the tunics he’d been wearing.

He took the stairs two at a time with his bare feet. As he neared the dining nook, his stomach growled. His meal was already laid out for him on the table.

Mirox was the first to leave the kitchen. Ualan smiled at the man. If the smell was any indication, he had done his job well. His smile faded when he saw the man’s expression. It was pale and drawn. Bowing before him, the servant whispered, “I apologize, my lord. If you must contemplate my punishment, please remember you did not inform me that her ladyship knew nothing about actual cooking, but only that I should instruct her how to prepare a traditional feast.”

Ualan watched, quizzical, as the servant quickly left his home.

Unable to resist, he stepped into the doorway of his kitchen. Morrigan was bent over wiping crumbs off the floor. Her luscious ass was to him, straining beautifully against the soft gray material of her gown. The passions of his dreams renewed themselves in full force. He must have groaned because she jolted in surprise and spun around. Having been caught staring, he shrugged, grinning like a greenknight.

Morrigan eyed him nervously. He pushed a strand of his wet hair back away from his face. For a long time she stood, barely breathing, barely moving. The bulk of her hair was tied into a knot at the base of her neck and he frowned, making a mental note to get her something prettier to hold back her locks. Ualan was the first to look away. He wondered what Mirox was so worried about. His kitchen was as spotless as when she started and it smelled of food.

“I put the food on the table,” she said needlessly. Her gaze wavered, as she nervously tossed the towel into the sink. Wiping her hands on her apron, she said, “It’s done. You should probably eat it before it gets cold.”

“Join me.” The request unintentionally came out like a hoarse command. Her eyes dipped down the length of him before darting back up. If she kept eyeing him like he was the main course, he might just throw her down on the table and indulge her.

He pulled out a chair by the table, waiting for her to sit. Morrigan looked at him warily as if she expected he would yank it out from under her. He didn’t, of course, and she relaxed.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any liquor? Something that doesn’t require me to lose my complete free will?” she asked.

It took him a moment, but Ualan realized she was making a joke. He grinned. He liked that she was being so agreeable all of a sudden, but he would have to tread carefully.

She filled the plates with food. Ualan glanced at the thick slice of wilddeor she gave him. Its color was a little off, but he could attribute that to the low lighting. When he looked at Morrigan, her face was so open, so watchful that he knew he couldn’t decline to try it.

“I could really use a drink,” she said, giving him a small smile in return.

Ualan nodded. Going to the wall by the kitchen he ran his hand over an offset stone. The wall parted and opened, revealing a bar.

Morrigan gasped. “Do you happen to have a food simulator hidden somewhere in here?”

His grin widened at her excitement. “Never found the need for one.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the table. “You should consider it. Your next wife might want one.”

Ualan’s expression faltered, but he didn’t rise to the challenge. He had decided he would kill her with kindness, even if it destroyed him. He never wanted to see fear in her face again, not directed at him. He glanced at her neck, remembering how he had threatened to strangle her. Before Agro pointed out his treatment of the knife blades, he hadn’t given the incident as much thought as he should have. He was sorry for it, but that is how the warriors acted with each other. However, now, it was very apparent just how little contact he’d had with human women in his lifetime. He tried to picture it from her side. Guilt forced him to look away.

“What would you like?” he asked.

“New Earth scotch,” was the instant answer. “Tall glass, no ice.”

He gave his bar a quizzical look. “I don’t think I have that.”

“Not surprising. If you had a food simulator I could at least have the fake kind. I’ll just take a whiskey or rum, whatever you have that’s stiff and strong.”

Ualan suppressed his laughter, not letting her see. It took everything in him not to respond that he had something stiff and strong for her between his legs.

Oh, this was going to be another long night.

Morrigan didn’t feel like eating. Mirox had insisted on placing two plates on the table, but she found that seeing food in its raw form and smelling it for hours was more than enough to take away her appetite. She did, however, want that stiff drink.

When Morrigan looked at Ualan, all half-baked plans in her head fell flat. Only the fact she’d spent the last four hours cooking kept her from leaping forward and begging him to keep her. She would not spend the rest of her days feeding him for one night of mindless, world blowing, galaxy destroying pleasure.

Nope, it didn’t tempt her at all.

Liar! her brain scolded.

Damned if he wasn’t a persistently handsome suitor. What was he up to now? There was something to the way he watched her tonight. It was almost…gentle. She’d have to be careful.

Looking at his firm backside, as he reached forward, she insisted, “tall, tall glass.”

Dressed in comfortable clothing, he appeared so warm and inviting. The flowing material hugged each curve just right when he moved. She leaned to the side to get a better view. Grabbing a bottle, he turned and smirked to see her eyes on him. “How about this? It’s a Qurilixian wine and will go well with wilddeor.”

Morrigan nodded. “Fine, so long as I don’t fall in your…”

She stopped, glowing pink with embarrassment. She really needed the scotch, a full bottle to knock her unconscious so she would be free of the feelings brewing inside her. Ualan took two goblets from the cabinet before motioning it closed once more.

Morrigan had to turn away. If she wasn’t careful, he would have her on the floor foolishly begging for his attentions. No thank you. Not again.

The silver metal of each goblet was etched with a dragon spitting fire. Morrigan chuckled inwardly. Ualan was obviously obsessed with the dragon motif. Trust a man to pick out such décor—not that her company spacecraft was anything to brag about. At least he had décor.

“Mirox mentioned I might have a title,” Morrigan said, trying to erase her last words. “What am I considered then? Besides a slave.”

Ualan hesitated. His hair had begun to dry into soft waves, framing his masculine features in the torchlight. He didn’t look at her as he filled the goblets and set one before her. Taking a deep breath, he said, “A princess.”

Morrigan smirked and shook her head. She didn’t believe him for an instant. “All right, I deserve that.”

Instead of answering, Ualan examined his plate and lifted the utensils. Morrigan watched his face carefully for a reaction. She held her breath. He cut off a piece of meat and slowly placed it into his mouth. The first taste was the last. The piece immediately launched across the table and over her shoulder. Morrigan jumped in shock. She turned to look at the partially chewed bit on the floor before frowning in irritation.

Ualan didn’t seem to care about what he had done as he grabbed the wine and began gulping. Finishing his glass, he took the wine bottle and chugged it down. Red rivulets ran down his neck, staining the cotton of his shirt.

Morrigan would have laughed if she weren’t so hurt. Staring at him, she demanded, “Stop it. You’re just being dramatic.”

A string of curses flew out in his native tongue. He panted heavily and his accent became thick, as he accused, “You’re trying to poison me. It’s not even cooked all the way and you put a whole bottle of liquid Qurilixian pepper onto the meat. No one ever uses more than a drop.”

“I should poison you, you big baby. Fine thanks I get after working my fingers off all day to cook for you. I did everything Mirox told me to do—everything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Holding up a forkful, he challenged, “Then, you try it.”

Morrigan looked at his flushed face, then at the red wine trailing over his neck. Slowly, she leaned back and shook her head in denial. Hurt flooded her at his words. Tears entered her eyes. Through stiff lips, she whispered, “No.”

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down. Looking guardedly at the ruined main course that a moment before had seemed so promising, he turned to eye the bread. It was a little lumpy but didn’t appear too bad. Taking a slice up, he sighed before biting into it.

Morrigan sat down and watched him, almost flinching in horror as he chewed.

Closing his eyes, he stopped eating and froze.

“Well?”

Ualan took his napkin and spit it out more politely than he had the meat.

“That bad?” Morrigan asked, dejected. She looked at her untouched food and pushed it away in despair. She’d worked so hard kneading the bread. Her arms were still sore.

“Better than the meat,” he said. “I apologize for reacting the way I did. I can tell by the look on your face, you did not mean to set my mouth on fire. It took me by surprise and I responded poorly.”

She nodded accepting his apology. “Tell me honestly. What did the bread taste like?”

“It’s an interesting combination of bitter and sweet,” he answered dutifully, but she could see he didn’t want to have to say the words.

She looked at her failed cooking attempt with a touch of mortification. In all fairness, she had warned him. Still it was disappointing, and frankly embarrassing, to have spent so many hours on something that turned out to be horrific. Weakly, she offered, “I didn’t make all of the salad.”

Ualan didn’t look ready to chance it. Standing, he threw his napkin down and held out his hand to her.

Morrigan eyed it despairingly and took his roughened palm in hers. “Are you going to give me to the soldiers?”

Ualan chuckled. “Not a chance. Come on. Let’s see what we can scavenge from the kitchen.”

Chapter 19

“What do you want me to make now?” Morrigan asked in dejection, as he led her behind him to the kitchen.

Ualan turned to look at her and thought, Not on your life.

“You can keep me company,” he answered more diplomatically.

Not touching her he walked toward her, forcing her to back up into the countertop. When she was trapped, Ualan grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up onto the counter. He held her like that for a spine-tingling instant. He caressed her lightly, before releasing her and turning to the refrigerator.

Ualan felt her eyes on him and he winked at her. Morrigan sat up straighter.

When he returned to the counter, he sliced fruit. Morrigan suspiciously watched him working for a long moment, before saying, “So are you a chef, then? That’s your job. You have excellent knife skills.”

“I will let you decide.” When he finished, he quickly mixed a stiff dough with his pinching fingers and patted it into a flat bread. Turning on the stove, he lightly toasted it. Morrigan watched, clearly amazed he knew his way around a kitchen.

“Who taught you to do that? I thought only women cooked here. You keep talking about wife duties.”

“This is a planet of men,” Ualan said. “We have to learn to fend for ourselves.”

Morrigan shook her head. “No, it’s more than that. You actually seem to like cooking.”

Ualan finished toasting the bread and went to retrieve a can of cream from the refrigerator. When he came back, he started heaping piles of fruit and cream onto the top of the bread.

She lifted her fingers and brushed back a strand of his hair so she could see his face. “Ualan?”

His name was heaven to his ears. It was searching and tender all at the same time. Her expression was vulnerable. She didn’t readily say more, but she didn’t need to.

Something had happened to Ualan the moment he saw her vulnerability at the table. Agro was right. His vixen of a wife wasn’t as tough as she tried to be. She wasn’t immune to him. In fact, looking at her now with her trembling gaze full of unsure feelings, he would swear she had been very terrified by his actions in the past, though she had hid her fear amazingly well. Being a woman who claimed to have had many men and spoke with bold confidence, this surprised him. He would have thought she could handle his arduous onslaught. It wasn’t as if she had no idea of what she was getting herself into when she looked at him with her big, round eyes.

Were Earth men as inept as rumored?

Could it be she didn’t understand the game they played as well as he first thought?

“Here,” he murmured, lifting up a piece of cream covered fruit. “Try it.”

Morrigan blushed. He ignored her outstretched hand and fed her himself. Taking the fruit, he rubbed the cream sauce over her lips.

She held very still, watching his eyes as the fruit slid between her lips. His finger briefly followed, dipping beyond the edge of her teeth to pull out slowly. Morrigan chewed and smiled. “Delicious.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” she confirmed, her words muffled by the bite. She dipped her finger into the cream, about to taste it again. “Really good. You should try some.”

It was all the invitation Ualan needed.

It took Morrigan several seconds to realize what she’d implied. The realization dawned in her expression as he pressed his mouth to hers. Her cream covered finger pointed up, falling to the side so as not to land on him. Smoothly, he licked her lips of the cream, trailing his tongue over them with a painfully unhurried speed, all the time staring into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

Her lids fluttered closed, and she inhaled deeply. After trailing the inside rim of her lips in the same fashion, he dipped forward to swipe a deeper taste. The exotic pleasure of the fruit came between them as he stole her breath. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with the primitive golden mischief that he didn’t bother to hide. “Delicious.”

“Ah, um, well, yeah,” came tumbling incoherently out of her softly battered lips.

Ualan, seeing that the hand frozen in air was beginning to drip, treated her finger with the same careful exploration. His thumb moved to test her pulse as he stroked his tongue to her flesh. Instantly, it jumped beneath her skin. She didn’t move. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Ualan?” she asked when he stopped kissing her hand.

He waited, seeing what she would do if he didn’t prompt her. To his disappointment and further amazement, she shyly pulled her wet finger from his grasp.

Looking over his shoulder, she mumbled, “Please.”

“Please?” Ualan whispered back, sure she was going to ask for him to continue. He knew she wanted it.

“Please, stop, I beg you. Don’t do this. If you do this to me again, it will destroy me.”

“You have the power to end it,” he whispered. Neither one moved.

Morrigan took her time studying him. His strong hands were so precise and sure in their movements. His light brown hair held streaks of blond, as if burnt by the sunlight. It had fallen forward over his shoulders while he worked. His bronzed skin tightened and pulled naturally with each movement of his neck. Not for the first time she thought that this was a man who was built by physical exercise, not created by expensive body-enhancing machines. There was a definite difference in the way he carried himself—so primitive and sure. His was the kind of body that would follow each and every one of his orders to perfection.

Morrigan was lost. He amazed her. This was a side of him that she would never have guessed at. She expected him to yell at her for messing up his dinner, not turn around and cook for her instead.

Her hands pressed into the countertop, refusing to touch his silken hair that spilled temptingly over his shoulders. When had his kisses become so tender? When had his eyes begun looking at her in worship instead of dominance?

You have the power to end it.

Morrigan couldn’t ask him. She thought about begging him to make love to her, but to again say the words aloud would embarrass her. It would force her to accept that she wanted him. It would leave her open to his continued rejection. It was a chance she couldn’t take, even with the tentative truce between them.

Picking her up, Ualan slowly put her on the floor, letting her feel the strength of him as he lowered her down. Sweeping her into his steady arms, he carried her to the couch before the dim fire.

“Please,” Morrigan begged, too weak to jump up and fight. She didn’t know what she was asking of him. Please kiss me. Please stop. Please just let me go home. Please keep me prisoner forever.

“I cannot give you that, slave.” Ualan lowered her onto the soft cushions that had been her bed since her arrival to his home, only to sit next to her with distance between their bodies. “Not until you are pardoned. It is impossible.”

“You mean you don’t want to be my slave, don’t you?” she whispered, curling her feet under her thighs.

“You’re right, I would not indenture myself to you like that,” he said. Their words were softly spoken, without their usual malice. “I would dishonor us both, and that I will not permit.”

“You have to always be the master.” She managed a wry smile, but she didn’t feel pleasure. Sadness filled her.

“Is that so bad?” Ualan asked, his Qurilixian accent thicker than usual. “Do you not wish for a husband who can make you proud? Men who are ruled too easily by women are not real men. Such a man could not protect you, provide for you and give you strong sons.”

Her entire being trembled. He did not relent. His eyes glowed gold in the light, the liquid depths more than just a reflection of the fire.

“Tell me, Rigan, would you be proud to have a weak man as husband? A man who would hide behind your skirts when danger struck? A man whose sword arm would quiver at the first sign of battle? Would such a man bring you honor? Would he make you proud?”

Morrigan shook her head in denial.

“Then why do you resist your destiny? Why do you resist us? Do you think I would dishonor you in such a way? Do you need me to prove my worth to you?”

To Morrigan, it was a stupid question. “Ualan, I know your honor is not lacking and with the right woman I know you would make a dutiful—” His look narrowed. “No, let me say this. I know you would make a wonderful husband. But I don’t think this is my destiny. These last days should prove we are not meant to,” she paused, “I have a life…”

How could she explain?

“You mention this life and yet you do not live it. Why did you agree to be a bride?”

Morrigan wasn’t sure how, but he had moved closer to her. She could feel his heat, smell his scent. It was as if he were in her head, making her answer truthfully.

“I wasn’t…I didn’t…” Morrigan tried to pull away. “It’s not like that.”

“What is this job you hold so dear?” He edged forward.

“It’s…it’s freedom. How can you expect me to give that up to be your sla—?”

“Wife,” he inserted firmly.

“Either way, Ualan, you would want me molded to your will—cooking, cleaning. It will drive me insane to be a housewife. I need more than that. I need…”

“Marriage is about compromise, Rigan. If you promise to try, I will promise to honor you as you are. A wife can enslave her husband in other ways. You do not need to be named my master.”

He smiled, a devilishly handsome look. The idea had plenty of merit. She thought of strapping him to a bondage throne and making him plead for mercy like he’d done to her.

The walls inside her heart might have had cracks in the mortar, but the bricks could still hold. “Will you let me go? If I truly wanted it, will you let me go?”

“No.” He didn’t even take time to consider. “Never. We were chosen for each other.”

Morrigan wondered how chosen they would be in a few years when he grew tired of her independent ways. How would he feel after she’d spent every second of a week on a writing binge, forgetting to eat and sleep? How about in forty years when her looks faded and her body parts sagged and he no longer could desire her? Or when she was thick with his sons, sore and bloated and emitting strange smells as she heard pregnant women often did? Where would his attentions be then? And what would she be left with?

“Then I have no say?” she asked.

“Not in this. Knowing or not, you bound yourself to me. It cannot be undone.”

“Why did you torture me that night in the tent?” If she were to agree to his role for her, then she had to have this one question answered. She already knew that in the tub he could not return her pleasure. But what about the tent? If she allowed him to get close again, she had to know he wouldn’t keep hurting her.

“Torture?” he asked, clearly perplexed by her choice of words.

“I understand the other night in the bath,” she said. Instantly a blush heated her features, but she forced it back. “But why in the tent? Why was I being punished?”

“I thought you wanted me to.” Ualan furrowed his brows in thought. “Amongst my people, when a woman is chosen, it is up to the man to prove himself. We aren’t allowed to use our words until the mask is lifted and we are deemed worthy of speaking, because—”

“Actions speak louder than words,” she finished wryly, “and talk is cheap.”

“Yes, precisely,” he nodded, obviously glad she understood. “And when you did not remove my mask and accept me, it was up to me to continue. If you would have taken my mask off right away, we could have talked through the night, ate, bathed, whatever you wished. Breeding is not allowed during the festival. It is a sign of bad luck if you do. It angers the gods and is bad for the marriage. Though we would join eventually, in essence we were still strangers until the crystal was broken.”

“But I heard the others in their tents. I saw…” This time she did hide her face in the couch cushion as she remembered the couple before the throne. Had she really stood there and watched?

“Certain discoveries are allowed.” Then, as if reading her memories, he said, “And married couples are not hampered by this rule. They can do whatever they wish on festival night.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, wrinkling her nose.

“You have no need for this embarrassment.” He stroked her hair back, trying to see her face. She kept it buried in the couch. “You can say anything to me, Rigan. You can ask me anything. I will always be honest with you.” When she made a sound that said she highly doubted it, he added, “That night was torture for me, too.”

It was a good explanation and made sense. From what she knew about his culture, it fit. Her voice muffled into the couch, she said, “Fine.”

Ualan tilted his head, and she felt him lean closer to hear.

Morrigan turned to look at him. Drawing a deep breath, at how close he was, she said, “Fine. I’ll be your wife.”

A grin spread over his features. Morrigan’s expression was more guarded. When the time came to leave, it would be hard. Since he would never let her go on his own, he left her no choice but to deceive him. He’d admitted as much and she had given him chance after chance to prove his words wrong. No, this man of duty and honor would not recant his word. The only way for her to get her freedom back was to take it, by any means necessary.

“But I’m not promising—” Her words were cut off as he yanked her forward. He kissed her with a swift passion that left her weak and breathless. When she tried to further the embrace by touching his face, he pulled back.

“We can’t,” Ualan said. “You need to be pardoned.”

“How—?” she began, not sure her body could stand another moment of waiting. She stirred restlessly on the couch.

“The royal celebration.” Ualan smiled. “It’s in a few days. I would be honored if you attended it with me.”

Oh, but it was a gorgeous smile. Morrigan stared at the fire, doing her best to block her every emotion from him. It would not do for him to suspect her plan. She knew she could never stay, but the idea of leaving him was killing her too.

Morrigan thought of her assignment. It would be the perfect time to take pictures of the royal couples and learn their stories. Her editor would be thrilled—four princes at the cost of one marriage of inconvenience. Gus might even forgive her for not checking in after the ceremony like she was supposed to. She inhaled a nervous breath.

Did she really have a choice?

Morrigan felt hollow on the inside. Her heart refused to beat as the guilt tried to choke the life from her constricting lungs. Quietly, she said, “Yes, husband, I would love to go to the celebration with you.”

Still in the haze of sleep, Ualan reached out across the mattress to feel for Morrigan. In his dreams, she had been there and closer. They were joined as one, no walls or barriers between them. It was a new sensation to him, to be able to feel someone so closely and purely as if they both drew the same breath.

Groaning, he came to full wakefulness, his body tense and ready. Realizing his wife wasn’t by his side, his groan turned tortured. His body hated him for not claiming her as a husband should claim a wife, but he was comforted by the fact that soon he would be able to possess her completely. And she was willing. If only he had realized earlier the way into her heart was to attract her with soft words and kindness. She was such an aggravating vixen at times that he naturally rose to her challenge.

Ualan stood and crossed over to the stairs as he had done almost every night to check on her. He let the dragon-shift come over his eyes to better see her in the dark. She moaned softly and stirred against the couch. A smile crossed her lips and she laughed. Whatever dream was in her head, it gave her much pleasure. It was only too bad he couldn’t get inside her mind with her. He’d give his sword arm to know what she fantasized about.

Soon, he told himself, as he sneaked back to bed. He never imagined he could be so happy. Very soon.

Chapter 20

Morrigan grumbled sleepily as she felt something poke her in the ribs. Swatting, she turned her back to whatever it was and tried to burrow once more into her dreams. The images that cocooned her were so real. She could feel Ualan’s lips pressed into hers. His eyes were gentle as he looked at her, adoring and demanding at the same time. His arms protected her throughout the night. It was ecstasy. She did not want to leave his embrace.

Hearing a chuckle and feeling another poke, Morrigan grunted. Lifting her arm from over her eyes, she glared. Ualan stood above her. He was handsomely dressed in a long tunic shirt of black wool, the blue insignia of the dragon in the center of his chest. The sun from the dome above haloed around his head like an angel.

A damned fine warrior angel, Morrigan thought, trembling with the leftover influences of her dreams.

Glancing down, she saw it was his hand that poked her. With a dark grumble, she muttered, “I already agreed. Go away before I punch you. This slave is on strike.”

Ualan smirked. His prodding fingers turned soft, trailing over her loosened hair to her back. Splaying his hand over her collarbone, he leaned near and whispered, “When your slavery ends, I will have to work on waking you up in a way that is more pleasurable for both of us.”

“Caveman,” she mumbled without thinking. She stiffened, but relaxed when he chuckled at the insult.

Reaching down to nip the tip of her ear with his teeth, he whispered, “If that is what you wish…mmm.”

This time Morrigan did hit him. Her aim was weak from her position on the couch and it only glanced off his shoulder. But he had won. She was awake.

Lifting his hands in mock defeat, he backed away. Morrigan tried to glare through her tired yawn. He laughed again, his smile light and carefree. She waved her hand in his direction trying to wipe him out of her vision. Why was he in such a good mood this morning? She was sure she preferred him surly. At least that way he left her alone.

“I hate this accursed planet,” she grumbled, though her voice lacked conviction. “I can’t even tell what time it is by the light.” Putting her hands in her hair, she rubbed her temples. “You need a food simulator, barbarian. I need to materialize some coffee.”

“It is around midday,” he gauged, looking up at the dome. “What is coffee?”

Morrigan studied him in disbelief. Shaking her head, she said, “Poor, poor, backward people.”

Ualan didn’t even blink at her words. He grinned like a fool, like he was unable to contain it.

“It’s a drink and it has a lot of caffeine in it and I don’t like to wake up without it,” she said. His overly happy expression struck a nerve and she hid her reaction by rubbing at her eyes. This man was really too handsome for his own good.

“Ah, sloken. One moment.”

“Sloken?” Morrigan mumbled as he strode to the kitchen. “Whatever.”

But upon hearing noises coming from within, she couldn’t resist getting up. Her maid’s uniform was crumpled but she knew she would find another in the bathroom. She stumbled to lean against the doorframe.

Ualan was taking a few ingredients out of the fridge and placing them absently on the counter. Morrigan had the wildest urge to go up to him and run her hand over his spine.

“You are still a slave,” he warned.

She glanced around, wondering how he knew what she was thinking. He must have seen her reflection somehow. “You’re still a caveman.”

“Then we make a perfect pair, don’t we?” Ualan winked as he shut the refrigerator door. Within seconds he whipped up a drink and handed it to her.

Eyeing the dark green liquid warily, she guessed, “Sloken?”

“Drink,” he commanded as he brushed past. Morrigan blinked rapidly at his fast movements. His fingers caressed over her neck as he left her, saying, “The dressmaker will be here soon.”

“Wait, dressmaker?” Sniffing the green concoction, she wrinkled her nose and set it down on the counter without tasting it before chasing after him. “I don’t want a dressmaker. I want a pantsmaker.”

Morrigan got a dressmaker. Bara was a kind sort, with deft, precise hands that measured and stitched quicker than Morrigan could think. She came supplied with half-made garments and bolts of material and a handful of dutiful assistants—mostly men.

The woman didn’t talk to her directly, and Morrigan wasn’t sure if it was because Bara didn’t speak the Old Star language or because she couldn’t converse with a slave. Instead, the dressmaker spoke to her husband in the Qurilixian tongue and pointed at her client with looks of concentration. Once, Ualan moved his hands as if to signify the curves of Morrigan’s hips. Morrigan blushed. He insolently winked at her when the dressmaker wasn’t paying attention.

“I want an upload of the Qurilixian language,” she said pointedly to Ualan. “And this dress better be decent.”

The dressmaker forced Morrigan to lift her arms higher.

“We don’t upload,” Ualan said offhandedly. He gave another suggestion to the woman and Bara nodded in agreement, pushing at Morrigan’s breast to lift it up.

“Hey, watch it,” Morrigan warned. Ualan’s grin widened. The dressmaker ignored her swatting hand. “Why does she keep calling you Draea Anwealda? What does it mean?”

“Dragon Lord.” Ualan waved his hand in dismissal. “It is just an address of sorts.”

“Like a title?” She glanced over to his wall and then laughed. “Oh, it’s a nickname because you like dragons so much. Does that mean I’m going to be called a Dragon Lady now?”

Ualan gave one last order to the dressmaker before stepping up to his slave-wife. Kissing her cheek in an act of public affection that took her off guard, he whispered, “I already told you, Rigan, you’re my princess.”

Chapter 21

The days before the royal celebration passed in a blur of dress fittings and etiquette lessons. Mirox brought two women for the latter task—Lyna and Mary. Both were from humanoid backgrounds, and very pleasant when it came to explaining the Qurilixian customs.

Morrigan found the more she learned about her husband’s rich culture, the more fascinated she became. It would seem they were creatures of very old tradition and exact habits. There were several small ways in which you could insult honor, most of which Morrigan thought she could easily avoid. She didn’t think she would be kissing anyone’s boot in public anytime soon.

By the time the dressmaker finished her gown, it was the day of the celebration. Morrigan was very excited, despite herself. She had been cooped up in Ualan’s home for so long, the days ran together. She became convinced she would go mad if she had to stay another minute indoors. The curiosity to see more caused her to plan various ways of escape from the home—none of which were feasible.

Her blue-gray ball gown was a slinky medieval affair made from a thin silk-like material. It had sloping shoulders that greatly exposed and displayed her lifted cleavage, long flowing sleeves that nearly touched the floor, and a high waist that gathered beneath her breasts and pulled seductively at her ass when she walked. Ualan’s favorite symbol of the dragon was fitted in the valley of her breasts to hold the gathering together.

The material was so light she felt naked. Morrigan nearly fainted when she discovered that Qurilixian women never used undergarments—except for the bustier that was sewn supportively into the chest—and she was to be left bare beneath the gown.

A hairdresser was sent to fix her hair. He brushed the sides up and let ringlets of curls fall over her shoulders. A circlet of silver with a little dragon pendent was placed low on her forehead, the delicate chains sweeping up into her locks. When he was finished, Morrigan hardly recognized herself.

All week Ualan kept a respectable distance. She assumed it was because the house was always full of the company of her instructors. Whatever the reason, she was glad for it. His heated glances and few stolen touches were full of promise and had made for a very long, painful time for both of them. When he spoke, his words were bold with hints of passion and invitation. He made sure Morrigan knew that, after the celebration tonight, he would be coming to claim his wife—completely.

It was that ‘completely’ part that left her shaking in her delicate slippers. For with the words, a present was delivered—a nightgown of silk and lace straps. The lingerie was like nothing she’d ever seen before, with barely enough material to cover her most private of parts. She was very embarrassed and couldn’t look Ualan in the eye for the better part of a day.

“You’re beautiful.”

Morrigan turned from where she sat on the couch and quickly rose to her feet. Ualan’s words sent a rush of pleasure through her, as did the look of desire that flooded his features when his gaze roamed freely over her form.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dragon Lord,” Morrigan answered huskily, eyeing his tunic jacket. It was bound together with a cord that matched her headpiece. She detected a lighter shirt beneath the jacket. It was thin and hugged each of his muscled curves. His hair was brushed back, out of his face, framing his strong features. The breeches he wore were tight and clung to every dip and curve of his legs in harmonious perfection. Morrigan was thankful the jacket and shirt hung low enough to hide his more significant parts from view.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said softly, coming forward, “we will not make it to your pardon.”

“I—” Morrigan blushed, realizing she was staring at his hips. “I have to get something, one second.”

Ualan watched as Morrigan ran up the stairs as deftly as she could in the tighter dress. She hurried to her belongings and pulled out the eye camera. She’d almost forgotten to wear it. When she returned seconds later, she slipped the emerald ring on her finger and held it up for him to see. Ualan raised his brow in question.

“It’s for luck. I always wear it when I go out,” she said.

As he led her from his home, Morrigan’s eyes devoured everything. Tapestries, paintings and statutes decorated the hallways. The wide passages of red stone continued in various directions. Ualan explained that the halls led to different suites and parts of the fortress. Pointing to a symbol on the wall that looked like a bunch of lines and dots, he said, “This is how we tell where we are going. I will teach you to read them for yourself so you don’t get lost. But, for now, do not wander anywhere alone.”

Morrigan stopped and looked at the design. Pointing to a line with a curve, she said, “This must be a dragon and these dots must mean—”

“Later,” he said. “Though, not bad, I’m surprised you managed to get that far with the hieroglyphic code.” He walked with her through the hall. “You are expected before the festivities to receive your pardon. Do you remember what you must do?”

She nodded weakly. Her fingers worked on his arm, clutching at him.

“Good.”

“How long will it take to get there?” she asked.

“Not long.” The sound of voices welcomed them as he stopped her before a set of arched doors.

Morrigan heard the murmuring of laughter behind the thick oak barrier. She studied the carved hatching on the wood before looking at Ualan. His eyes were liquid pools. “We’re here? I thought we’d have to take a land cruiser. I thought I’d have time to—”

“You must enter alone for this,” He hooked one of her curls onto his finger so it clung to him. Leaning over, he lightly kissed her cheek. “You’ll do fine.”

Morrigan swallowed and nodded. When he stepped back, she bravely pushed her way in. The heavy oak was pulled from her grasp and two servants bowed silently as she entered. She was too nervous to study the main common hall, as she stepped down three stone stairs onto the main floor. The crowd grew quiet at her arrival. Morrigan found the head table exactly where he had said it would be. Going forward, she bowed to the king and queen who she vaguely recognized from the crystal crushing ceremony.

“Queen Mede, King Llyr,” she said, curtseying. Her voice wavered.

The royal couple both motioned their hands in acknowledgement. She glanced to her side, seeing several sets of eyes on her.

Morrigan had been told the royal couple was also honor bound not to speak to her until she asked for her pardon. Turning her eyes down, as instructed, she said the words Ualan taught her. “I come to you as a humble slave, begging for your royal pardon. I have restored my honor and wish to seek your blessing.”

Morrigan couldn’t resist peeking up to see how they would react. The queen and king shared a look.

“Prince Olek?” the queen asked.

“Yea,” said a man to the queen’s side.

“Prince Yusef?”

“Yea.”

“Prince Zoran?”

“Yea, my queen.”

Morrigan tried to calm her thundering heart. She itched to snap a picture of the royal table, but couldn’t get a good photograph with her eyes lowered. A picture of the princes and their brides in their natural habitat would be perfect for her story. She wondered which of the girls from the ship would be with them, if any. Hopefully it was someone she got on with so she would have an excuse to question the newly made princess extensively.

“My husband?” the queen continued.

“Yea,” the king answered, his gruffly booming voice full of authority.

“And I say ‘yea’,” Queen Mede stated. “She has spoken well.”

Morrigan began to curtsey at the compliment when the queen’s words stopped her.

“We have agreed. Now it is up to you, my son. Will this slave receive her pardon, Prince Ualan?”

Morrigan’s sharp gasp resounded over the hall. Her eyes darted up of their own accord to stare at the royal table to see if they were joking. There, standing by his mother, a crown of silver metal atop his head, was her husband. She felt the blood draining from her features.

Ualan stepped down the platform at her direct attention. How did he dare to smile at her? You didn’t just smile innocently after a public bombshell like that. Morrigan was horrified, mortified, terrified. As soon as her senses recovered, she was sure she was going to be livid and there would be hell to pay.

The hall was quiet with respect as he stepped up to her.

“Tell me you are the royal gardener and this is a joke,” she whispered through her tightened throat.

“No, my princess,” he answered so none could overhear.

Morrigan panicked. It would be much harder to bail on marriage to a prince. Ualan would have the resources to send many alien races to find her. If he wanted, he could have every military and police force in the galaxy armed with her picture.

So much for her career as an undercover reporter.

“Do you still wish to be pardoned?”

She nodded. How could she not? Everyone was looking at her.

“Yea,” Ualan announced. “I shall pardon my wife. She has proven herself very worthy of her title and of my family’s honor.”

Cheering and pounding erupted at his words. She gave a little jolt of surprise at the sudden rush of sound.

Ualan led her forward to the royal table. Morrigan’s eyes flew over the royal couples. A prince who looked much like her husband sat next to Nadja. She blushed, recognizing him from his tent but also well aware she’d last seen him without clothes on. Another crowned brother sat next to Pia. She didn’t really know the woman, but nodded when Pia acknowledged her attention with a strained smile. The fourth prince, and ungodly dark specimen of male splendor, sat alone.

“It is glad I am all my sons have found brides. We are a house blessed,” the king announced when Ualan and Morrigan were seated. “Preost, crown the princesses.”

Morrigan trembled in outrage as she numbly felt a crown being fitted on her head. She refused to look at Ualan. If she did, she just might kill her royal highness of a husband in front of a palace full of witnesses.

Although a grand meal was served, Morrigan couldn’t eat. Ualan wasn’t the only son with the dragon symbol prominently displayed on his clothing. It was the royal seal. She thought of the upload that claimed the seal was a tiger. She was definitely going to write a story about the shoddy business practices of the Galaxy Brides Corporation. She didn’t need remade virgins. The corporation flat out lied about the planets they sent women to. When she got done with them, they’d be out of business. Clicking the emerald several times in her ire, she made sure to get several pictures of the dragon emblem.

Musicians played lively tunes. The crowd laughed, breaking into spontaneous song at the oddest moments. She was very aware of people looking at her, curious and judging. The weight of the crown felt heavy and she had to resist pulling it off.

Morrigan noticed her husband’s people were much freer with their affection than most humanoid cultures. They openly kissed and caressed each other as if it were no matter. To her relief, nothing got carried too far—not like the couple having sex out in the open during the wedding ceremony.

What was she going to do? How could she escape a prince?

Suddenly, a hand found its way onto her knee. Morrigan tensed, her eyes shooting daggers at Prince Ualan.

“Relax.” He kneaded her thigh muscle through her thin gown. “Eat something. Enjoy yourself. It’s a celebration for all the princesses.”

“Is that a royal order, Prince Ualan,” she ground out through the side of her mouth. She was very aware of how on display they were.

“You’re upset.”

She shot him a look that said, No kidding, caveman.

He took his hand away, clearly realizing this wasn’t the time to discuss it further.

“What are the Var doing here?” Ualan turned to ask Prince Olek, Nadja’s husband.

“They are our guests,” Olek answered. The brothers spoke in the Old Star language and Morrigan listened intently to every word. Ualan sounded concerned. She turned to study the blond men at a distant table. They seemed to be the only ones not enjoying the lively celebration.

“See that they are watched,” Ualan said. “I won’t have their deceits in the House of Draig. There will be a big price to pay if we must punish them.”

“Yusef is taking care of it.” Olek glanced quizzically at Morrigan, catching her staring at them. Switching into his native language he continued talking. Morrigan scowled when Ualan answered in the same.

Out of spite, she took a picture of Prince Olek and his bride. Nadja tried to smile at her. Morrigan nodded stiffly in return.

Is it just me? Morrigan wondered. Or do all the royal brides look peeved.

“I want to leave,” Morrigan said when Ualan finished his lengthy, serious conversation with his brother. “I’ll find my way back.”

“You cannot go. This is your coronation.”

“Your dark brother’s wife isn’t here,” she pointed out with a stiff nod at Yusef. The tall, serious prince saw her irritated look and scowled back at her.

“That is because Princess Olena is in chastisement. She isn’t allowed.” Ualan lifted his drink, allowing his plate to be taken by a servant. Morrigan lifted her full plate and handed it directly to the man. The man seemed surprised to see her clearing her own meal, but when Prince Ualan nodded at him to go, he took the plate and left.

“Well, I want to get put in chastisement, too. What do I have to do?”

Ualan glanced down at his lap and visibly flinched. “Now is not the place to have that conversation.”

Now she was even more curious to learn what chastisement meant.

“You forget already, wife, I have given you punishment aplenty. But if you insist, I will happily give you more after the celebration. After all, I am an honorable man, duty bound to see all is in order.”

Morrigan read the fire in his gaze as his hand reached beneath the table to touch her intimately on her thigh. He slowly gathered her dress in his palm, pulling the slinky material up until his fingers were rewarded with warm flesh. She tried to swat him away, while retaining her dignity. He squeezed tighter, sending a chill over her. The more she hit, the tighter he squeezed until she was forced to give up. Gradually, his hand slid higher, finding the place where her thigh connected to her sex. With the evidence of her attraction to him so easy to discover, there was nothing she could do to hide the fact she was wet. Morrigan prayed the results of his touch wouldn’t ruin her gown and embarrass them both.

Ualan smiled, pleased by his wife’s response to him.

“Stop, brother.”

Ualan blinked, dropping his hand as he turned to Olek’s knowing smile.

“Before the whole hall detects her desire,” Olek added, so the brides couldn’t understand the words. Nadja looked at her husband quizzically, but hastily turned away before he saw her watching him. “Let it not become one of those celebrations. I have no wish to share.”

Ualan smiled and shrugged, unashamed, but properly reined in.

A shout of laughter sounded over the hall, drawing attention. Morrigan leaned forward. Ualan followed her eyes to the small boy sprawled on the floor. Several large warriors watched him from the table, laughing harder when he limped to his feet. One foot turned in slightly and started to drag.

“What—?” Morrigan started to whisper. She was cut off when Princess Pia suddenly jumped up from the table. The woman rushed to the boy’s side. The child looked surprised to see her standing beside him and tried his best to bow. It was awkward moving on his foot.

“Leave him be,” Pia loudly ordered the table of laughing warriors. They quieted and looked at her in confusion. Ualan frowned, not sure what the woman was trying to do. He shared a look with his father. The king appeared stunned.

Pia turned her attention to Zoran who also seemed surprised by her outburst.

“What do you want with Heinrich, my lady?” Teggen, one of the burly warriors, asked while scratching at his beard. “Does he offend you? I will have him removed.”

Pia turned a visible shade of red. Her blonde hair flew around her shoulders as she spun to glare the warrior down. “He does not.”

A commotion ensued. Morrigan leaned closer to Ualan and he missed what was being said as he turned in surprise to look at her. He placed his arm around her waist.

Pia shouted, “Well, I am a princess and he will be my personal warrior.”

Ualan turned his attention back, shocked at the proclamation.

“If my lady wishes for a warrior, let us battle for the position. Do not insult us by naming a boy,” Teggen returned. Zoran moved down the platform, finally going after his wife. The other warriors stood up support of Teggen’s request. They growled in agreement of the idea and shouts were called for a tournament.

“Do you dare to question a princess?” Zoran demanded.

“He is my warrior, too,” Nadja yelled, standing. Olek looked at her in amazement, choking on his wine.

“And mine as well,” Morrigan piped in, rising to her feet. Ualan watched her gown fall back down over her leg. He merely smiled, more amused than anything by the events. Let his brother Zoran deal with this problem.

“Gods’ bones,” the king muttered.

“There you have it,” Zoran said, trying not to laugh. “You cannot deny the wish of three princesses. Heinrich is now under royal protection and will be treated according to his new station.”

The three princesses shared a silent look of understanding. Pia nodded her thanks for their support. The stunned hall picked up its celebration once more.

Ualan took advantage of his wife’s standing position by sliding the tips of his fingers near the back curve of her knee. She quickly sat down. He flashed an innocent smile.

Ualan spent the better part of his evening trying to obtain feels of his wife under the table. Morrigan shivered despite herself and clamped her legs tightly in irritation whenever his venturing became too bold. He burned with desire and each brush of her flesh shot electricity throughout his whole being. Only a few hours separated them from release.

“If you want me to quell that flame burning in your thighs, I can disappear beneath this table. I would be very pleased to lick the fire from your wet, parted sex.”

Morrigan shot Ualan a horrified look at his whispered offer. He chuckled loudly in response. When his laughter subsided, he once more settled his mouth close to her ear. The warmth of his breath caressed her skin. She tried to push his hand away for what had to be the thousandth time that night. He took her hand in his. With the speed of a striking snake, he brought her fingers to his solid erection and held her hand to him. He smiled around the hall as if nothing was amiss. Morrigan paled, not nearly as stealthy as her wayward husband.

The feast was cleared and after dinner drinks were poured in abundance. The musicians kept playing. Yusef strummed a few tunes with them on an instrument resembling a guitar, and proved himself to be quite up to the task. Someone sang in the Qurilixian language. It was a beautiful sounding ballad.

Still leaning close, Ualan forced her fingers to curl around him. He held her hand to him and began to stroke long and slow. Morrigan’s body came alive with interest, her pussy betraying her at the feel of his cock.

His words were tempered with a low bestial groan of pleasure and approval. “Or perhaps you could be persuaded beneath the table to tend to me.”

Morrigan gasped, too weak to pull away at the moment, as she was made to stroke him over the material of his breeches. Ualan flicked the ties holding his pants together and moved her hand to directly touch his naked arousal. The danger of it excited her in a way she had not thought possible and she did not resist as much as she should have.

“I would love to feel the soft suckling of those sweet lips once again,” he implored her. Morrigan roughly jerked her fingers from him. “Enough. You go too far.”

“Aw.” With disappointment heavy in his words, he said, “Tonight then.”

Morrigan spied a new goblet placed near her empty one the table, full of a yellowish liquid. Grabbing it without thought, she gulped the sweet contents down. Instantly it made her head lighter and she was happy for it.

Ualan leaned in to ask, “Would you like to—?”

“Say it and I will have your head,” she said in return.

Ualan blinked in surprise. That’s when she noticed Zoran had escorted Pia to the main floor for a dance. She had thought he meant to propose they have sex right there on the table. Silence fell between them once more.

“King Llyr.”

One of the blond Var men stood below the raised platform. As he bowed, she could detect the pattern of a tiger on his chest. She frowned, trying to get a picture of it. Finally, she just pushed the recording function and let it run.

“Many blessings on your unions,” the stranger said. “May your reign be long.”

“As may yours, King Attor,” the Draig king returned, standing to show a respect that did not reflect wholeheartedly in his eyes.

Morrigan shivered violently. The blond Var shot her a heated, sidelong glance. He bowed once more and left, his band of troops behind him.

“What was that all about?” she leaned forward, her curiosity momentarily getting the best of her.

“Politics,” Ualan answered darkly, turning to keep his eyes on the Var. His humor had faded as he suspiciously watched the Var king. Prince Yusef passed his instrument off to its owner and quietly followed behind the departing men.

Morrigan felt terrible as she walked home with Mirox. Her stomach churned and she sweated profusely. Ualan had to oversee some urgent royal matter of the court with his father, and had the servant escort her so she didn’t get lost. Mirox said nothing, respecting her quietness. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this night would mean. She was sure everyone had seen the heated way Ualan looked at her.

Once alone, Morrigan stumbled to the bathroom. She was nervous about her night with Ualan. Her heart beat quickened. How could she not be nervous? He was so bold and strong and sexual. What would he expect of her? She couldn’t even repeat some of the things he’d whispered to her at the feast.

Shivering uncontrollably, she wondered if every bride was this nervous when faced with the prospect of bedding a Qurilixian warrior. The chills didn’t stop. In fact they seemed to get worse.

“It’s not just that,” she whispered to herself. “It’s because he is royalty. How can I escape royalty? I’m truly trapped.”

Morrigan tugged the crown off her head and set it on the floor as she sank to the ground. Crawling on her hands and knees across the bathroom’s marble floor, she barely made it to the toilet before she started to throw up.

Chapter 22

Ualan frowned, his excitement severely dampened by the night’s events. Yusef had been attacked while seeing King Attor out of the keep and off Draig land. The only reason their enemy was even allowed at the event, was so the cat-shifter king could see the Draig royal marriages were settled. It was more of a political slap in the Var king’s face, and proof to the Draig people that they were not scared of cats. Ualan knew Olek secretly hoped if their enemy saw for himself how settled the Draig marriages were, that the dragon-shifter throne had a strong, bright future, the man would back off.

Yusef had been brought to a medical ward where all the latest technology at their disposal had been employed to save his life. They might live simply, but that didn’t mean they were foolish. They owned medical booths, but those could only do so much for serious injuries. Yusef was in bad condition and still unconscious. The doctors said he was in danger, but they were hopeful for a complete recovery.

Guards were already being sent to gather Yusef’s wife at the outpost and bring her into the safety of the castle walls. The fallen prince had been attacked from behind, and had not been given time to shift into his dragon form. If he had, the knife wounds would not have penetrated so deeply. The hard armor of his dragon skin would have prevented it.

Coming into his home, Ualan glanced around. Morrigan wasn’t on the couch. With a soft smile, he started for the stairs. His body sprung to automatic attention, seeking fulfillment at long last. He craved her nearness to chase the demons from his thoughts. There was nothing she could do to change what happened to Yusef, but the idea of her gentle hands holding him was comfort in itself.

“Rigan?” he called, taking the stairs two a time. To his surprise, she wasn’t there. Frowning, he searched the closets and balcony before rushing to check downstairs. Heading to the kitchen, he stopped when he heard a sound in the bathroom. He imagined her in the bath—warm and naked—but as he neared the closed door, his senses prickled. Something was wrong. The door was locked.

Pounding on the wood, he called, “Rigan?”

He was answered by a cough, before she moaned. “Go away.”

“Rigan, what is it?” Surely she wasn’t this upset about being a princess. He closed his eyes and focused his feelings. A wave of intense pain overtook him, radiating from her body to his, he stiffened. “Open the door.”

There was only silence. Cursing, he slammed the wood with his shoulder. It splintered in several pieces allowing him to charge inside.

“Rigan…?” The question died on his lips as he stumbled on her discarded crown. His blood ran cold.

Morrigan was sprawled out on the floor. Yellow patches formed on her overly pale skin. He saw a trail where she had thrown up as she fell helpless on the floor.

“Rigan?” He swept her into his arms. The crown bent under his boot as he accidently stepped on it. He didn’t care. He rushed her from the bathroom. “Rigan, wake up. Please. Please…”

She stirred. Her lids lifted wearily so she could look at him, and she mumbled, “Cavema…”

She was out.

Ualan sprinted from their home, holding her tight as he rushed to the medical ward. Before he was all the way through the door, he saw his brother’s prone body on one of the beds. Calling for help, he yelled, “My wife, please, I think it’s poison.”

Soon, Morrigan was whisked from his arms, her near lifeless body flopping as the doctors carried her to a private room in the back.

Ualan growled at the stunned doctor’s wife, commanding, “Get my family.”

Alanda ran off to do as he ordered.

Ualan still stared helplessly at the door leading to where they took Morrigan, when the royal family, princesses and all, were ushered into the room. Only Yusef’s bride was missing. The frightened Nadja and Pia were escorted into a separate room to be tested for poison and the men were left standing alone with the queen.

“If any in our family die, I will kill every last Var,” Ualan swore to his father, his voice deepening as his features began to harden with a shift. His eyes glowed with a deadly yellow as fangs extended into his mouth. Resembling the beast he could become, he growled, “There will be blood.”

Ualan studied his wife’s pale face. He felt useless waiting by Morrigan’s side, but what else could he do? He was a man of action, not of waiting, and it tore him up to be so out of control. All he wanted was to live a peaceful life in love with his woman. Why couldn’t he have that? What if she never woke up, just remained asleep like his cousin’s new bride? Even now Lady Riona was in stasis and Lord Mirek could do nothing to save her. Ualan couldn’t go through that kind of agony. He needed Morrigan, desperately. She was his air, his life, his very heart beat.

Morrigan was extremely ill and had not stopped throwing up for the first several hours, even when there was nothing else in her system, even though she did not wake back up. As he looked at her now, he was glad she finally rested. He wasn’t sure if she was getting better, or if the medicine the doctors gave her kept her from looking worse.

The doctors told him that if he hadn’t found her when he did, she would be dead. His guess had been right. She was poisoned. Even unconscious, she fought bravely. Ualan’s heart swelled with pride at her natural strength, and in the end she’d won the battle for her life. But, what kind of life? Whether or not her mind and body would remain free of long term effects remained to be seen. Whatever the results were, he would not leave her. She was his bride, even if she stayed asleep, even if he had to put her into a living tomb next to Mirek’s bride. They could visit them together and commiserate in their sadness.

Ualan felt a single tear slide down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. It would not do her any good if he lost himself.

And if she did wake up, but was only a shell of what he’d married, it would not change a thing. Even broken, she was his only. Nothing would change that, for at least she’d be alive.

Standing to stretch, he walked to the viewing window to look in on his brother. He caught his likeness in the reflective surface. His eyes were sunken into the depths of his face. He’d not eaten or slept and had barely left his wife’s side. The only times he wasn’t in the medical ward were once to meet with his family, and once to bathe and retrieve a change of clothes so she didn’t have to sleep in a vomit-stained dress.

Ualan saw his father pacing next to Yusef’s bed. The prince had yet to wake up. The king’s lips moved, though Yusef couldn’t hear him. Ualan briefly focused on his father’s mouth and would have sworn the king was baiting the comatose man to rise and fight. All of the family had stayed close to Morrigan and Yusef’s sides, plotting retribution throughout the night, as they waited for a sign of consciousness. The others would be close by, though he didn’t see them in the medical ward.

If two fallen wasn’t bad enough, to make matters even worse Yusef’s bride had been taken. Already their best trackers were going after Princess Olena’s kidnappers. As soon as their location was determined, Olek, Zoran, Ualan, and the king would ride out to reclaim her. He might not know his new sister, but she was family and so he worried for her as well.

What was happening to his family?

Tears welled inside him and he turned away before the king glanced up and noticed. He’d never been so scared in all his years, but he didn’t need to burden his family with his pain. They all had enough to deal with.

He was secretly glad for the upcoming mission to find Yusef’s wife. He needed to pound out his fear and helplessness. Retribution and rage were the two best emotional outlets a warrior had in such a situation.

Ualan again took a seat by his wife. Though he wasn’t sure she could hear him, he said, “I have news for you. The servant responsible for serving the drink has been dealt with. He did not mean for it to happen. Technically, he is at fault so he will be removed from the palace staff for the carelessness, but he did not have evil intent in his heart. Even so, he insists on purging his honor. He wanted to poison himself, but we did not allow it because he has been loyal. Instead he goes without food and drink in the lower dungeons until he starves and has to be revived, at least until you wake up and can pardon him. I’d like to think you’d be all right with that decision. I wanted to kill him, but…” He took a deep breath. “That would not have been honorable, not without knowing how you are…how you…”

He willed her to look at him, to move. Anything. She didn’t, save her even breathing.

“One of King Attor’s men distracted the servant as he was preparing to serve the royal drinks. The cup was meant for my parents. However, when King Attor went up to speak, the servant had placed the goblet before you so as not to get in their way. The Var king couldn’t have realized you wouldn’t know the king’s personal seal and would take the drink for yourself.” Ualan stroked her cheek. At least she was warm. That was a change. Before she’d been clammy to the touch.

Her hand lay beside her body on the bed. He rested his forehead against her fingers. “If I hadn’t embarrassed you, you would never have taken the drink. But if you hadn’t taken the drink, and it had gone instead as intended to my parents, they would have died instantly. The poison works slower on humanoids. So, in essence you saved them.”

It was a bittersweet comfort.

Her hand stirred from under his forehead. Thinking she moved in her sleep, he didn’t look up.

“Mmm,” came a light moan. She stroked back his hair.

He quickly lifted his head to look at her.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Morrigan’s voice cracked.

When he beheld her glassy eyes, he saw she was still under the influence of the powerful drugs the doctors had given and her mind was hazy. He didn’t care, so long as she was safe, and awake, and seemed to know who he was. For the first time since finding her nearly dead on the bathroom floor, he felt as if he could breathe.

“Hey,” she murmured again. Her hand was too weak to stay lifted and it fell to the mattress. “What happened? I can’t feel anything.”

“That is the medicine,” he answered softly. “It is to keep you from hurting.”

Morrigan nodded, blinking heavily. She almost drifted off before catching herself. Her wide eyes shone brightly as she looked at him.

“I was dreaming of dragons,” she said. The medicine lowered any filter between her head and mouth. Ualan chuckled to himself. He didn’t care, letting her ramble.

He smiled tenderly, teasing her, “Just dragons or one dragon in particular?”

“They were eating furry people because you were naked in the shower.” Her eyebrow rose but could not hold the pose. “What did you do to me, caveman? Hit me over the head and drag me home?”

Ualan’s relief intensified. She called him caveman. She did know him.

“You were butterfly poisoned.” He worried she would hate him for not protecting her better, as he hated himself. “The doctors said you would be fine so long as you rest.”

They’d actually said that she should be fine if she awoke, but he felt no need to worry her with the details of her recovery just yet.

“I don’t have butterflies in my stomach,” she protested, her mind drifting as she mumbled, “I’m not too nervous to sleep with you.”

He would have grinned like a fool if her skin wasn’t still patched with yellow. “I’m glad to hear it, wife.”

“Who?” she asked suddenly, trying to get up. “Poison?”

“Easy,” he whispered, urging her back. “They will be dealt with.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, with a surprising show of trust. “All right then.”

Ualan glanced over to the table by her bed, moving to get her a drink. She took it gratefully before closing her eyes. Seeing the small eye camera lens the doctors found in her eye next to the emerald trigger, he couldn’t help but asking, “Why did you have the camera, Rigan?”

Morrigan sighed. Before falling asleep, she murmured, “It’s my job. I’m going to expose you after I leave you.”

Chapter 23

Ualan growled like a thundering brute. Gripping the center horn of his mount, he swung up behind the beast’s bare shoulders. The ceffyl’s wide back shifted low at the weight of its warrior rider, not seeming to mind the rough handling. His fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of its long tongue. It had the eyes of a reptile, the face and hooves of a beast of burden, and the body of a small elephant. When properly motivated it was wickedly fast for an animal of its size and equally deadly.

Adjusting the long blade at his side, Ualan snarled.

“There will be enough blood for all of us,” Zoran said, seeing his brother’s mounting rage, though not exactly disapproving of it. He too swung up on his animal.

“Your wife will recover,” Olek said, joining them. “You heard the doctors. They scanned her and her mind is well.”

“Not if I strangle her into the grave.” Ualan’s face shifted briefly to dragon in his rage.

Olek and Zoran exchanged troubled looks as the king rode up beside them. The king looked at the two princes in question. They merely shrugged in return.

Turning to Ualan, he said, “You don’t have to come. We won’t fault you if you want to stay.”

“That’s not it,” Olek said.

“He wants blood,” Zoran added.

“As do we all,” the king agreed

“There is not enough blood in all the land to kill a husband’s wrath when he has tasted the bitterness of his wife’s deceit.” Ualan nudged his steed, murder flashing in his yellow eye as the ceffyl took off. The others were quickly behind him.

“They’ve gone where to do what to whom?” Morrigan regarded Queen Mede from where she’d sunk exhaustedly into the depths of Ualan’s couch. She hadn’t seen him since his brief visit in the medical ward that morning. She could barely remember it, except there had been dragons and dancing lights and, wait, no, that part was a dream. The drugs the doctors had given her to flush out the poison were strong. He hadn’t been back since.

So much for a caring husband. She frowned.

“The doctors said you should have stayed in the medical ward,” the queen said. She was dressed simply in cotton slacks and a shirt, not looking anything like royalty in her attire. It was her intelligent eyes and regal posture that gave her position away.

“They gave me a monitor. If I need them, I push a button. If my heart stops, it tells them.” Morrigan held up her wrist. “Where are they?”

“I also need to ask if you intend for the servant, the one who served you the tainted drink, to continue to starve in the prisons.”

Morrigan frowned. “No.”

“So he can be forgiven for setting down the drink on the table? You’ll pardon him for his part in the—”

“Yes, pardon, whatever. He didn’t poison me. King Attor did,” Morrigan interrupted, growing more impatient by the second. “Now, where’s Ualan gone?”

“To get justice,” Queen Mede answered calmly.

“Justice? How?” Morrigan pushed forward in concern. “Will there be danger?”

The queen considered her carefully. “Most certainly.”

She said it like it was a good thing.

Morrigan stared at the queen as if she had grown another head. She tried to get to her feet. “Where is he? I need to see him.”

Queen Mede stood back, refusing to interfere with the woman’s will to stand. Though if she’d talked to Morrigan’s doctors to know she wasn’t encouraged to leave the medical ward, the woman also probably knew Morrigan wasn’t supposed to be moving around too much. As the sensations of pinpricks exploded over her legs, she fell back with a huff.

The doctors were right. That was a mistake.

“I respect your desire to pick up arms, but you are in no position to ride out. Do not fret. None of the other princesses have gone to fight. You are not being left out.”

“Gone to fight?” Morrigan stared in horror at her mother-by-marriage. Were Qurilixian wives expected to go to battle with their men? She turned to look at the dragon beasts on the blue tapestry. She knew a lot of aliens believed all citizens should take up arms. Did this one? “I don’t know how to fight.”

“That is probably for the best, since you’re not a…” Queen Mede smiled, stopping herself from finishing. “What I mean is, you do not know your own strength, daughter. Only a fighting spirit could have withstood the butterfly poison. And I am guessing that only a fighting spirit could have resisted her husband with slavery. You might not pick up a sword, but there are other weapons that are just as powerful.”

Like a laser blaster? she couldn’t help thinking. Swords? Were these people serious? Cooking every night was barbaric enough, but primitive weapons? What if the other side had lasers?

Morrigan thought about what queen said. There was approval in her tone. When she called her “daughter”, Morrigan nearly teared up. She’d been on her own for a long time. She had no family left on New Earth. Suddenly, it hit her. Here she had a family, a strong, close, protective family. And they all wanted her to stay.

Thinking of Ualan, Morrigan knew the queen was right. It had been harder to resist him than it had been to fight off death. How did she ever do it? Why had she even wanted to try? None of the rest seemed important anymore. Not if they had a chance of working it out and being happy.

Would it be so bad to be the barbarian prince’s wife?

Could she really give up her career and wanderlust?

Could she live in a primitive world?

“What happens if he…” Morrigan couldn’t finish.

Queen Mede’s face tightened slightly in discomfort. “My sons are highly trained warriors. Trust me, they use their weapons well. It’s not like they ride to the battlefront to fight a war, just a small skirmish. You are new to this world, but I assure you, you do not need to question their honor. They will be victorious.”

The words did little to comfort her worries. Morrigan dutifully nodded and the queen relaxed.

“Are all men on this planet as stubborn as your son?” Morrigan asked.

The queen smiled. “Only if you’re lucky, dear. Only if you’re lucky.”

Queen Mede had promised her son she would check on her sick daughter-by-marriage. She wondered what Morrigan could have said to make Ualan so angry. He had been a wreck since finding her poisoned and no amount of comforting would ease his pain or his guilt. So they had done what was best and left him alone. Even though the queen could read the fury in her son when he said this woman’s name, she could tell he cared for her deeply and would never hurt her.

In visiting, she had hoped to discover what was happening with her oldest son and his new wife. Now that Morrigan was pardoned, she’d hoped they could begin to form the bonds of family. Queen Mede desperately wanted daughters. Her entire life, she’d been surrounded by dragon-shifting men. In her younger days, she looked down upon humanoid women as weaker and needing to be protected—even though her own mother was human. It took marriage and time to discover a woman’s strengths rested in more than her sharp talons. Part of the queen hoped she could find a piece of her human mother in these new princesses. Her parents had been gone a long time, and though she saw traces of her father in the dragons around her, she did not have many reminders of her mother. Well, except the recipe for sugared biscuits.

“Are you hungry? I made you these,” the queen reached to the plate she had set down on a small table.

“I don’t think I can eat,” Morrigan said. She tried to hide her worry, but it was there in her face. The princess cared for Ualan.

“Perhaps later.” The queen placed the small plate back down. Morrigan turned her attention to her hands, not saying much as she became lost in her own thoughts.

That was one thing the warrior men of her planet never understood. It took much more than crystals and destiny to win a woman’s heart. It took patience and time. And, sometimes, it took almost dying.

Chapter 24

Morrigan’s body felt like it had been set on fire and thrown into a river of ice. How could a person’s skin be on fire while their blood seemed to be forming ice crystals? The fact that Ualan was out seeking revenge, or justice, or whatever it was he was doing—and she really couldn’t be one hundred percent sure because the queen’s answers were vague at best—didn’t help induce rest.

Mirox let it slip that something had happened to Princess Olena. She’d been taken by Var intruders because she was camping near the borderlands. When she pressed him for more details, he refused to answer and made an excuse to leave.

One princess poisoned. One prince stabbed. One princess kidnapped. Three princes and a king off doing gods know what. And the queen baked cookies.

This planet was nothing like Galaxy Brides had promised them.

Looking up at the light, she had no idea what time it was. She was too weak to leave the house, not that the door would let her. But she couldn’t sleep. The tapestry of the dragon fight kept drawing her attention and making her more nervous.

The door automatically opened. Morrigan jumped in surprise and held her hand over her racing heart.

The queen entered, not waiting to be invited. “I thought you would like to know that the men have safely retrieved Princess Olena from her captors and are heading back to the palace. Mirox informed me that he told you of Olena. In your condition I did not want to upset you.”

Morrigan took several deep breaths. She studied the queen’s face, trying to determine what else she might not want to tell her.

“No one expects you to greet them in the courtyard. I’ll relay your blessings.” Queen Mede turned to leave.

“Wait,” Morrigan said. The queen stopped and came back around to face her.

Why don’t you say Ualan’s name? Is he injured? Is he…? She looked at the tapestry, to a slain embroidered solider, and was unable to say the words out loud.

“Thank you for coming personally to tell me,” Morrigan said instead. The queen nodded and left.

She didn’t think it possible, but time seemed to go even slower now. Nervously, she forced herself to walk over to the hidden bar for a small drink. The liquor burned her sore throat, but it did its job in dulling her senses by a tiny degree.

Morrigan stared at the glass, swirling the amber liquid in tiny circles. The door opened and she looked up from the table in surprise.

Seeing Ualan, she pushed to her feet. She wobbled slightly, still weak from her ordeal. Her pleasure turned to alarm when she saw his blood splattered face. His clothes were wet with crimson, his hair matted to his head with dirt and sweat. The reality of what he’d done looked much worse than what her imagination had come up with. She’d let the queen’s calmness over the situation influence her. But, that was real blood. He’d been in real danger.

Trembling, she stumbled toward him. “Are you injured?”

Ualan didn’t answer.

“Ualan?” Morrigan let her fingers roam over his damp chest, searching for wounds. She glanced at the gore-covered sword hanging at his waist. He winced when her fingers skimmed his ribcage. Satisfied that it was only the one injury, she demanded, “Why weren’t you wearing armor? Are you insane?”

“Stop pretending. What would you care if I were slain?”

“What?” She gasped. Seeing his tired eyes, she forgave him. The relief of finding him whole was enough reason to ignore his surliness. “How bad is your side? Did you go to the medical ward? Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ualan shrugged out of her grasp. “I do not require your help, wife.”

“But—” Morrigan’s eyes rounded in surprise.

“Quit coddling me, woman.” He jerked his arm from her tender hands. Roughly, he pushed past her, spinning her weakened body on its heels as he stormed into the bathroom. He acted as if he would have slammed the door for good measure, but it was broken off its hinges.

Morrigan waited, using a decent amount of energy to stay upright. After a few seconds, she heard splashing in the hot spring. Putting her hands on her hips, she shook her head, “Oh, no he did not just do that.”

With her limbs empowered by determination, Morrigan went after him. She leaned against the doorframe for support and stared him down. Ualan poked at a gash on his side. When she cleared her throat for attention, he looked up in surprise.

“First you want a wife,” she yelled angrily, “and you get mad when I want nothing to do with you. Now you’re yelling at me because I was worried about you? I think not, caveman.”

“Rigan.” Ualan’s tone warned her to use caution.

“Quiet,” Morrigan commanded, her eyes flashing. “You wanted a wife. Well, guess what buddy, you’ve got one.”

“Have I?”

“Oh, yeah, and so help me, you are going to let me tend that wound, help you with this bath, and then I am going to make you dinner if it kills both of us.” Morrigan dared him to disagree, before adding, “And with my cooking, it probably will.”

“How are you going to do all of this? You can barely stand.” He purposefully looked her over.

“Just try to stop me.” Although her body hurt like it’d been dragged through hell and he was stiff and unresponsive, Morrigan managed to wash his skin and hair. Her fingers faltered as she neared his erection. He might be in a sour mood, but his body responded to her. His eyes flamed with liquid fire when she ran her soapy hand down the length of him. She waited for a sign of his approval.

Standing abruptly, Ualan stated, “I think you’re done.”

Morrigan drew back, slightly mortified by the quick rejection. So, yes, she appeared frightening with her fading yellow patches and tired face. He fared little better.

Ualan climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist, shielding the obviousness of his desire from her view.

Morrigan wasn’t so easily put off once her mind was set. “Where is your first aid?”

Ualan looked at her in confusion.

“Bandages.” She pointed to his seeping stomach. Now clean, the wound wasn’t so bad. She kicked his bloody clothes into a pile on the floor, out of the way.

Soon they were on the couch, his arm lifted over his head as she poked at his wound. Ualan glared, but said nothing.

Forcing her tone to be as pleasant as she could manage, she asked, “So are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.” The word was abrupt and final.

As soon as the bandage was finished, he said, “I’m going to bed.”

Morrigan glanced at his towel where the heavy protrusion still vied for her feminine attention.

“Would you like me to come with you?” She stood to touch his arm. Her body was weak and she wasn’t sure how she’d manage to perform, but she didn’t care. She’d been so scared with him gone, and would be content to just hold him, to hear him breathe. Slowly, her fingers trailed to again touch his bandaged waist.

Ualan took her hands in his. For a moment, she was sure he would kiss her. To her astonishment, he pushed her away from him and let her go. Without a word, he walked alone to his bedroom, leaving her to sleep alone yet another night.

Are you injured?

Ualan arrived home victorious and the only thing she can think to ask him was “are you injured”? As if it was to be assumed he would be. It was an insulting question and Ualan couldn’t believe she expected him to answer it.

As she’d tended him like a wife should, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t concentrate. When he worried she was dying, he had been so scared. He’d never prayed for anything like he prayed for her safety. Then she awoke and had said those words that replayed in his brain a thousand times.

It’s my job. I’m going to expose you after I leave you.

Morrigan planned on leaving him. She had lied to him. She had no intentions of staying and being his wife. It was a most cruel betrayal. Then there was the camera. She said it was her job to expose him. Expose him to what? To whom?

Ualan knew what she offered. He nearly went mad when her hand dipped to clean his arousal. Her need had shone in her dark eyes. Even now his body tingled with treacherous desire. He didn’t want to feel anything for her.

He understood the deceit that lingered behind her gaze and yet she managed to draw him in. He wanted to believe she cared what happened to him, that she wanted to be with him, that she might even love him. He wanted it more than anything.

The ache he felt was almost unbearable as he fell exhausted on the bed. Lack of food and sleep, combined with the physical excursion of a fight, left him too tired to think. She was alive and awake. The rest he’d figure out later.

Chapter 25

The first time in the bath could have been battle fatigue. The next day? All right, Morrigan could buy that it was still battle fatigue and maybe post-rescue contemplation. But the second night and third day? Morrigan shook her head. No. Day three was definitely heading into rejection territory. If His Royal Pain-in-the-ass had the energy to leave the house and roll around in mud—and what was that princely duty all about anyway—then he should have had the energy to finally, for the love of the gods, finally have sex with his wife.

Seriously, their coming together was overdue.

But suddenly, just as she was available as his wife and there were no strange customs or legal issues for them to contend with, he wanted nothing to do with her. And he was grumpy. Did Draig men get man-periods because…yeah.

Seriously?

Blast all the stars in the fire surges of Bravon, this was ridiculous. Utterly and completely ridiculous.

Now that she was a free woman, Morrigan was given leave to explore her new home. For a palace designed and decorated by a group of antiquated warrior men, Morrigan thought it fantastic. The five wings were built into the side of a mountain. She was told each prince had designed his own section. Judging by their homes, she discovered the brothers were anything but carbon copies of each other.

Whereas her home with Ualan was all fire, marble, and fur, Zoran and Pia’s wing was constructed with a wood finish, giving the place an oriental lodge feel. Olek and Nadja’s home had a giant water fountain in the front hall, surrounded by high backed, comfortable chairs and exotic fish tank walls. She didn’t see Yusef and Olena’s section, but she guessed it would be equally marvelous. Yusef was still in the medical ward recovering from his wounds, but she hadn’t heard much else.

In the courtyard, she discovered the palace exterior was of flawless design. From the ground, because of the angle, the windows and balconies adjoined to the royal family’s quarters were undetectable. They had been carved so that even from a distance the palace looked like just another mountain cliff.

Within the surrounding valley, near the festival grounds, a small village resided under the protection of the House of Draig. The smooth rock-lined roads were flat and even, crossing through the village with a military precision of angles. Each building and street looked as if someone cleaned them on a daily basis, and the houses were such that every family prospered. There was no poor district, no clearly defined line between the middle class and poverty. The residents dressed similar—light linen tunics during the day much like the royal family, but minus the dragon crest and finer embroidery.

With the three suns shining overhead, she expected the planet to be hotter than it was. The bright village sported a cool breeze. Outside she was better able to recognize the subtle shifting of time. During the evening hours, when the sky turned to a more brilliant shade of blue-green dusk, the people changed into the more comfortable cotton pull-string pants and shirts. They provided protection from any night chill, which to Morrigan wasn’t much.

She adopted the more comfortable style immediately, having, at the queen’s insistence, ordered more gowns to befit her new station. It was with no small amount of disappointment that Ualan merely grunted when he saw them and turned to seek his own bed.

Morrigan took her meals in the common hall along with the rest of the family. A high alert had been placed on the kitchen staff, and she was informed that meals were a little more stressful because of it. The queen tried to assure her that normally family time was quite enjoyable. The men did not join them often, taking their meals wherever they practiced and strategized.

Morrigan missed Ualan more and more with each passing hour. She wondered how, in such a short time, he had grown to be an important part of her life. Without him, she didn’t feel right. She ached for those wicked words he would whisper to her, the ones that caused her to blush. It was as if a piece of her soul went missing. She felt hollow.

Each night Ualan came back to the house, worn from training with his brothers, or whatever it was he did while he avoided her. He looked at her as if he was surprised to see she was still there in his home. Where else would she go? Then, he would go to his dining table and pore over maps and charts until the wee hours of the morning. Morrigan peeked at them once, but couldn’t read the script or understand their meaning. Not once did he offer to explain them to her.

When she spoke to him, his responses were curt and his actions uniformly more so. He refused to tell her of his plans. Ualan never voluntarily talked, except once to ask after her health when she had a passing moment of dizziness, and then it had been to make sure she was seeing the doctor for her daily checkups. She was. That answer apparently satisfied him, not that he’d show it.

Now, as Morrigan again found herself alone in their home, the loneliness grew worse. If she kept busy, such as shopping with the queen, or eating in the hall surrounded by others, she could pretend she belonged in this world. That is why when Pia invited her to spend the evening learning to defend herself, Morrigan had readily agreed. Anything was better than being alone—even if that meant letting Pia beat on her.

The queen was only too happy with the plan and instructed Morrigan to get a dirk from her husband’s closet. Looking at the array of weaponry, she wasn’t sure which knife was the dirk. So, instead, she chose one for the prettiness of the hilt rather than the deadliness of the blade. Smiling sadly, she strapped it to her waist.

If anything, Morrigan thought wryly, I can learn how to physically beat my husband into submission.

The idea had real merit. She wondered if she could take him in a fight.

Probably not.

Unless she sneaked up on him…and he was passed out drunk.

If he kept ignoring her, she just might try anyway.

About to leave, Morrigan paused. Reaching to the back of one of the shelves, she pulled out an old intergalactic communicator. She took the knife from her waist and set it aside before sitting on the floor. Next to her, buried beneath the skirt of one of her hanging gowns, was her bag from the Galaxy Brides’ ship.

Pulling the bag close, she unzipped it with shaking fingers. She hadn’t really looked in her suitcase since before her arrival. For a surreal moment, seeing her clothes was like looking at her old life, a life she’d somehow forgotten. She pulled out a hooded sweatshirt, undergarments and her favorite pair of thick socks that came from a remote Yidie woolie herd farm on the edge of nowhere. Feeling nostalgic, she shook off her boots and slipped her feet into the socks. Before she realized it, she had changed her clothes completely. The bra felt different than the built in bustier of her Draig shirts and her panties were oddly constricting on her hips.

Morrigan shivered violently. Tears threatened. It didn’t matter how full she tried to make her days, she couldn’t deny she felt very much alone. She had tried not to think about it. But now, alone in the closet, her insecurities would not be ignored. If Ualan had grown tired of her would he tell her? Was he getting bored with her? Did he no longer desire her now that he had her? Some men needed the chase. Now that she was caught, was the thrill gone? Would he move on to another woman?

Seeing her computer port, she checked its power. The lifecell lit up without a problem. The last article she’d been working on flashed open before her on the loading screen. With a tap, the holographic air screen floated up with the words she had written on the spacecraft. They begged for an ending.

Swallowing, she took up the communicator and stuck her adapter into it. The unit lit up showing that it still worked. With only a minor hesitance, she hit the keys for her editor.

Click. Click.

Morrigan tensed as the signal blinked. For a moment, she considered pulling the plug. But, by the time she moved to end the signal, it was too late.

“Rigan? Rigan?” came her editor’s gruff male voice. Gus sounded worried. “Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl. Come in. Rigan!”

Taking a deep breath, she uttered with a nonchalant tone she did not so easily feel, “At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery.”

“Prince Ualan, your presence is requested in communications.”

Ualan looked up from where he held his knife to a young soldier’s throat. Sighing, he tapped the greenknight’s neck, indicating the kill shot. He nodded at Zoran before tossing the blade to him. Zoran caught it with one hand, barely blinking as he turned back around to critique a practice fight.

“What is it?” Ualan asked the tower worker as they crossed from the practice yard to go into one of the palace’s secret tunnels. They walked several feet into the mountain, through the bare passageway, before loading onto an elevator. The young man pushed a button and they began to ascend to the communications tower with lightning speed.

When they were finally alone, the man answered, “Our sensors have picked up a communication signal, my lord.”

“Who hails us?” Ualan watched the metal door slide open. They’d journeyed to the top of the mountain where the communications tower resided within a transparent pyramid. From the bottom of the mountain and from space, the peak was camouflaged to look like the red rock. However, inside, it was as clear as glass.

“No, my lord, it is one of our communicators,” the worker said. “The signal is trying to connect to the outer galaxy.”

“Have any requests been made to call out?” Ualan knew he hadn’t approved any.

“No, my lord.” The man looked wearily at the prince as he stepped aside to grab an earpiece.

“Whose signal is it?” Ualan asked.

The man swallowed nervously, almost shrinking back into the wall. “It is yours, my lord.”

“Signal is connecting,” another communications worker said from his place in front of a floating screen. He touched it in the air, causing the holographic image to flicker and change.

Ualan’s heart beat hard and slow. The last time he saw his communicator it had been in his closet.

“Close circuit,” he ordered, hooking the earpiece into his ear to listen. He threaded his hands behind his back, and looked up at the sky. Through the solar shielding on the panels, he could see an expanse of stars not visible to the naked eye from on the surface.

“Yes, my lord,” the man said. “Intercepting now.”

The prince ignored the room full of workers as he listened.

“Rigan, are you there? Damn it, girl. Come in. Rigan!”

Ualan stiffened, his jaw tight. He refused to move or show emotion in front of his men. Inside, his stomach turned in on itself. His heart squeezed so hard he thought it might wither. For a moment, he didn’t think she would answer. He hoped she wouldn’t. He was disappointed.

Clear as day, he heard her playful voice say, “At ease, Gus, don’t bust a plastic artery.”

Morrigan took a deep breath. She didn’t have to wait long for Gus’ lecture.

“What the hell is going on, Rigan?” The man’s tone turned from concern to annoyance. “I send you to do an exclusive story on a royal family, not to get yourself married. I contacted Galaxy Brides and told them I was your uncle. They told me my niece was lucky enough to find a life mate—whatever the fire blazes that means!”

Gus had been married thirteen times. He didn’t believe in life mates. He barely believed in one-year mates.

“Gus,” Morrigan said evenly as she tried to calm him, but his frustration wasn’t vented. She knew he was blowing off steam. The man had been worried about her, though he would be unwilling to admit it.

“What the hell happened? You got the breast enhancement, didn’t you? I told you not to do that. The whole reason you’re good at your job is that you can blend into a crowd. I told you guys can’t help looking at a sexy woman. It’s genetic. I don’t care what kind of alien you are.” Gus wheezed as if pain. “What they do? Carry you off into the sunset like some damned Old Earth fairy tale?”

“Gus, this is no fairy tale,” she interjected, thinking of her unfulfilled body that seemed to ache all the time. Just sitting in the closet, surrounded by Ualan’s clothes made her body shiver and pulse with wicked thoughts. It smelled of him in here, the lingering scent of soap she’d come to recognize on his clothes.

“If anything,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her, “you should have had them take your breasts off completely until your trip back.”

“Take it easy. Grab a pill, Gus, you’re about to keel over.”

“I’ll take it easy when you tell me what the hell is going on.” The words were followed by a fit of coughing.

Sighing, Morrigan lied, “I’ve got detained. It’s nothing, Gus, just a minor inconvenience.”

It was easier than explaining that she was married and the guy wanted nothing to do with her. Not to mention more diplomatic to her bruised ego and broken heart. She didn’t want Gus knowing her humiliation. She wouldn’t put it past him to bring it up in future conversations to prove a point or win an argument.

Remember that time you didn’t listen to me and got married…

“You got something don’t you, girl,” Gus exclaimed. “I can practically smell the story in your voice. What is it? The virgin trading practice piece you were working on? Did they offer to fix you up?”

“No, they did not. Stop being lewd or I’ll hang up.”

“Easy, girl,” he coughed, hacking viciously. “What’s got your goat?”

“My goat, Gus? You haven’t been gambling with the Slayers on Valex Ten again, have you? I told you they are mind readers.”

There was a long, silent pause. The communications device reeked of guilt.

“Never mind,” she muttered. “I don’t want to hear how you lost another wife to them in poker.”

“She wanted to go,” the man protested.

“Listen,” Morrigan interrupted before he could defend himself further. The old communicators were unstable sometimes and could disconnect at any moment. “I need a favor. I want you to look up the contract I signed with Galaxy Brides. See if they’ve altered it in any way.” She paused. “And see if our galactic lawyers can find any loopholes in it.”

“Loopholes?” Gus asked, understanding dawning in his voice. “You did get married, didn’t you? I was just joking about that. I never thought I would see the day you’d be leaving me, Rigan. Makes a man almost want to cry,” Gus said gruffly. He coughed, refusing to get too much more emotional. “I can tear up your news contract if that’s what you’re asking me. No need for the lawyers. You just tell me you’re happy and I’ll mail the shreds to you myself.” Another throat clearing. “That is after you get me that piece on those barbaric princes. I do have a slot to fill.”

“Damn it, Gus. Put your damned drink down and listen to me. The Galaxy Bride uploads are inaccurate. They’re tricking…they’re not right. It’s like someone just filled in the blanks with guesses, figuring that the women coming here would be too desperate or too stupid to do anything about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got married by accident. Galaxy Brides has the uploads all wrong, almost all the tiny details are inaccurate and quite a few of the really important ones.” Morrigan refused to tell him she didn’t actually use the ceremony uploads on her way down. She just assumed they were as poorly done as the rest.

“Do they now,” Gus mused. “This could be interesting. What angle are you going for with it? Poor star reporter gets trapped by primitives—an inside look into marriage by force? Or the evil greed behind intergalactic marriages—what corporations will do to make a few space credits?”

“Slow your wheels,” she broke in. It was good to hear his voice, even if he was frustrating.

“So you’re not married?”

“Only technically by their laws. That is why I need you to get my contract. Use Harcy. He’s fast at retrieval. Tell him I’ll clear his Quazer poker debt if he does this for me.”

“So, you’re not leaving the paper?”

“No,” Morrigan said, trying her best to keep the sadness out of her voice. “I am not leaving the chip.”

“I knew it,” Gus exclaimed. “I knew my top girl would never settle down. That is what makes you the best, Rigan. I’d kiss you if you were here. Now, about those princes—”

“I’ll get you a story, Gus. You just do your job and get me the hell off this forsaken planet of barbarians.”

“Will do, girl, will do!”

“Thanks.” Morrigan lifted her finger to end the transmission.

His voice stopped her. “Is he that bad?” There was a pause and a snicker. Morrigan rolled her eyes. Once she got back to the office she would never hear the end of this. “Your husband, I mean?”

“He’s not my husband, Gus. He’s just a lead to a story.” Her tone was dead and the lie left her hollow. It would be better not to think about it. “You know I’ll do anything to get you the story.”

“Damn you’re cruel hearted. I always thought so, now I know. But, for now, why don’t you send me your pictures. I’ll download them and get them ready for copy.”

Morrigan froze, hating how many lies she had to tell, “The camera’s broken. I’m trying to repair it but it might be unusable.”

“What? I should leave you there for that. Do you know how much I paid—?”

“Stow it, you owe me at least that. Besides the camera was ten years old and I bought it myself. Now come and get me you stubborn—”

“I’m on it,” he grumbled. “Call me back in two days. Can you have the story by then?”

“Sure,” she mumbled. “Oh, and Gus?”

“Sure, girl, what is it?” His words were softer.

“I’m never taking another undercover assignment like this again. I expect a hard news piece when I get back.” Morrigan hit the button, breaking the communication. A stabbing pain pierced her heart and she began to sob.

Ualan handed the earpiece to the watching tech. He had listened to his wife’s voice in silence. He was an inconvenience to her, a way to get her story. What had he done to deserve this? The gods had indeed cursed him.

“She called her uncle,” he lied. “I will speak to my wife. She won’t be making unauthorized communications again.”

“Yes, my lord,” the men answered in unison, taking the prince at his word.

Chapter 26

Morrigan was drunk.

No, that wasn’t true. She had hit drunk and surpassed it about an hour ago. Stumbling back to the liquor cabinet, she studied the line of remaining bottles. It was hard to see them in the dim torchlight. The overhead lights had spoiled her solitary mood, so she closed the curtains and pretended it was night. Opened containers spread about her on the floor and table. Corks and ties littered the floor. Glasses were scattered about with strangely mixed concoctions swirling beneath their rims, attesting to her hours of experimentation. They’d been abandoned on the tables, chairs and floor. A couple even led into the bathroom door.

Taking a particularly attractive purple bottle, she stuck it beneath her arm and grabbed an ugly red one to go with it. Stumbling back to a clearing within the field of half-drunken glasses, she slumped to the floor. Taking her last clean cup, she pulled the cork from the purple and poured. Then, tossing the cork aside because trying to aim it back into its hole was too hard, she studied the red bottle. Twisting the cap, the red soon joined the purple. It clumped like mud but she was too far gone to care.

“This should be pretty,” she mused drunkenly, swirling the mixture together and gulping it back. It wasn’t. Morrigan spit the contents back into her cup with a gag. She was surprised she could still taste after so much boozing.

“Why does my house smell like liquor? What the…? Rigan?” Ualan stopped just beyond her mess. He glanced around at the bottles before turning to where she’d nearly wiped out the hidden bar.

Morrigan blinked heavily and scowled drunkenly back. Her prince of a husband stood before her swimming eyes, dancing in and out of blurred vision. Oh, but he was handsome. Damn him. He had a great waist, a great chest, a great ass, a great smile, a great... It wasn’t fair.

Morrigan hiccupped. At least he wasn’t wearing a great smile. In fact, he looked upset. Good.

Ualan’s hands were on his hips, as he stared at her in disbelief. She snorted, picking up the last mixture and trying it again. Seeing the taste had not changed, she spit it out and cursed. “Blast, that’s wicked.”

“The red is Qurilixian rum and the purple is a cooking spirit,” he stated. “They don’t mix.”

Morrigan frowned, lifting the purple and trying to read it. She had no luck. It wasn’t her language and it wasn’t in focus.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, looking at the mess she had made of his marble floor.

“What do you care? Go back to ignoring me. I’m busy right now.”

“Some of these bottles aren’t even meant for drinking.” He scowled at her. What else was new?

She flinched and wobbled to her feet. Slurring, she said, “Doon’t worrry, your grace, I, Mooorrigan, your humble and most obedient servant will…”

She tipped over when she tried to bow, hiccupping again. Her head spun in momentary circles but she was too sloshed to really notice. Ualan started to dart forward, but stopped when she righted herself and pulled his knife from her waist. She had been using the tip of the blade to open bottles, now she pointed it at him.

She couldn’t feel the teeth in her gums and she gnashed them together violently. The knife gripped in her hands. All she knew is that her soul had a hole in it, and it was beginning to eat up her heart. She had to stop it. She had to stop the pain.

Morrigan’s head spun. The liquor only intensified her aching. She thought if she became drunk enough she would be able to block him out. But none of the bottles had worked. He was here, and he was so handsome. She just wanted him to look at her like he did the night of her coronation. She just wanted him to end the torture she felt. She just wanted him to want her again. Tears clouded her eyes, burning her nose. She wanted him to give her soul back.

“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” Ualan looked at the ceremonial knife Morrigan wielded at him. He frowned, more worried about her than his liquor collection. Her swaying became worse the longer she stood. If she fell over, she could do herself harm. His heart leapt to his throat when she again stumbled. The knife dipped low, nearly slicing through her thigh.

“No,” she answered.

“What do you think you are going to do with that?”

“I’m killing you,” she shouted.

“Rigan,” he warned, starting to take a step forward. He thought better of it when she fearfully stepped back and almost tripped over a bottle. Her foot knocked the rum over and it pooled onto the floor.

Agony filled him, intensified by the memory of her words to that man on the communicator. His gut had been rock-hard with pain ever since and now, to see her ready to kill him to be rid of him, was the ultimate betrayal. “If you are going to strike me, then strike. But you best make the blow count, wife. You’ll only get this one chance.”

Morrigan looked numbly at him. “I will.”

Ualan sensed what she was going to do, right before she turned the knife to her chest. Instinctively, he shifted. His skin hardened, turning a dark brown beneath his clothes. A line grew out from his forehead, pushed forward to make a hard plate of impermeable tissue over his nose and brow. His eye yellowed, able to see down to every microscopic movement of her tottering body. Talons grew from his nail beds and deadly fangs grew from his mouth.

With supernatural speed, he struck forward, throwing his own wrist before her heart to stop the blade. Since she was drunk her thrust was weak and the blade skidded off his armored skin, barely scratching him.

He ripped the blade from her fingers. Morrigan’s grasp weakened to such a degree that she let him take it. He threw the knife behind him, ignoring its noisy crash on a wall. His dragon senses flared to full attention as he studied her.

Ualan forced himself to be still, bracing for the scream that would come, that must come.

Morrigan’s heart raced in a combination of excitement and fear. For some time she had suspected something like this, but not to such an extent. All the native Draig’s eyes glowed eerily and once she had thought to see Zoran’s skin shift slightly in color. It wasn’t as if shape-shifting was all that unusual in the galaxies. She met several species that had the ability to some degree. But this?

She blinked hard, trying to focus on his face.

Morrigan’s breathing deepened. She didn’t care that his features had shifted. She didn’t care that his skin had hardened to press even more firmly against her than his muscles usually did. He was handsome to her. He was holding her. It was all that mattered.

His eyes, though different in color, were the same eyes she had fallen in love with. His chest heaved as he held her in his embrace, arms so strong and safe, arms she wanted to spend a lifetime in. She longed for him, and it was painful, more painful than the burning wanderlust that normally consumed her.

She thought to feel a thread of fear and apprehension in him. It had to be inside him, because it wasn’t inside her.

Drunkenly, she grabbed his face and kissed him. Ualan stiffened, as if stunned she would so readily accept his shifting. At the touch of her lips, his hard skin softened as he changed back to human form.

Morrigan moaned and thrust her tongue to deepen the kiss. His skin became pliable beneath her fingers. She jumped up, winding her legs around his sturdy waist, pushing naturally into his rising erection. He wrapped his arms firmly around her and held her up by her ass to keep her tight to him. Morrigan rocked herself into him, rubbing passionately to end her torment.

“Upstairs,” she commanded. Ualan didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed up the stairs, carrying her easily in his arms.

Morrigan tore at his clothes before they even reached the top. His touch scorched her, made her lightheaded with passion. She loosened her legs and Ualan dropped her to the floor. While she excitedly dug at the front of his pants, he backed her toward the bed.

Suddenly, she froze, her hand halfway embedded on his hot erection over the rigid tip. She swayed, unable to keep the world from spinning violently around her. This was not the time to pass out.

Ualan grunted to feel her hand reaching for his arousal. Nothing mattered, not her deceit or her lies. She was a part of him, and he a part of her. Tomorrow would be for fighting. Tonight would be for…

When her hand stopped, he pulled back in surprise just in time to see her eyes roll before her lids fluttered shut. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have dropped to the floor.

Ualan panted wildly for breath as he held her limp body against him, trying to adjust to another let down of his desires. Shaking, he worked her hand away from his arousal and laid her tenderly on the bed. He was still trembling when he pulled back to study her.

Tonight would be for…

Gods’ bones.

Chapter 27

Morning was cruel and afternoon wasn’t much better. Morrigan woke up alone in Ualan’s bed instead of on his couch. Her head pounded in white-hot agony and she was lucky she remembered her medicine downstairs. She might not be suffering from butterfly poison, but according to her throbbing head, it was a poison that afflicted her.

Ualan was gone, but she saw the crumpled pillow on the couch signifying she had again slept alone. Vaguely remembering her degree of inebriation, she was surprised to find the house in order and the liquor cabinet completely locked up. Eyeing the scanner lock, she laughed, and then winced at the pain the action caused. It wasn’t as if she would be trying that failed experiment again anytime soon.

When she went back upstairs to change her clothes, she saw Ualan’s weapons were missing from his closet. She frowned, suddenly recalling the knife she had taken. Surely the whole scene in the living room had been a dream. But, wait, the kisses had been real enough. Was the other stuff real as well? She didn’t actually try to stab herself in the heart, did she? Morrigan shook her head. No, it was impossible. She would never do anything that stupid.

Refusing to move much further than the bed, Morrigan fell into it and soon was back asleep.

“None of the men will fight us,” Zoran muttered darkly to his brothers. He glanced from Ualan to Olek and then back again. “They say our mood is too black. They are frightened we will kill them.”

Ualan observed the men who carefully edged farther across the exercise field to get away from the angry princes. He couldn’t say he blamed them, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. His lips curled into a snarl. Morrigan had pushed his body to the limit and he needed release—any kind of release.

Saying what they were all thinking, Olek growled, “Well, what in all the sacred temples are we supposed to do now?”

Olek and Nadja’s home was filled with lush plant life that grew out from a sunroom to wind around a door and part of the trellised ceiling. A giant fish tank took up an entire two walls, one clear with a large pink sucker fish adhered to the glass, the second with dark murky waters they couldn’t see into except for hints of life that fluttered past the glass. In the center of the hall was a natural water fountain, relaxing and calm in its resplendent beauty. It too had plant life growing in its stone crevices.

Stretching her arms over her head, Morrigan yawned. She felt better, though her body ached when she moved and her head wasn’t quite right. Nadja and the other two princesses, Pia and Olena, were nice enough not to mention her unusually pale face and red eyes.

“Heinrich is now training as a soldier. I released him from his duty to us,” Pia said in answer to a question about the boy.

“So, have any of your husbands lied to you about who they are?” Olena asked. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun and her green eyes flashed with continuous mischief, even when she wasn’t up to something. She looked none the worse for wear from her ordeal with the kidnappers, but she also wasn’t speaking of it.

“I thought mine was a prison guard.” Pia chuckled.

“I used to call mine a barbarian.” Morrigan tucked her hand beneath her head on the high-backed chair. “And a caveman.”

The women laughed lightly. Nadja just blushed shyly, and admitted, “I call mine a dragon.”

“They’re all dragons, if you ask me,” Morrigan winked at Nadja.

Nadja giggled as she rose to answer a summons from the door. Morrigan lifted her head. She wasn’t really surprised to see the queen. No matter where they were in the palace, the woman seemed to appear.

Queen Mede stepped into the circle of women and nodded. “I heard you all were hiding out here.”

“How’s Yusef?” Olena asked, blushing slightly and refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Still awake,” the queen answered. “And still with his brothers. They speak of fighting, and fighting always makes warriors happy, for it is something they know how to do.”

Olena leaned back in her chair and tried to pretend like she didn’t care either way. No one was fooled.

Queen Mede glanced at the hung over Morrigan and lifted a delicate brow. Morrigan turned her face away. There was too much knowledge in that look. However, to her credit, the queen said nothing about it.

Nadja offered to get the ladies drinks. Morrigan recoiled and instantly declined. The reaction elicited laughs from the others.

“No, dear, we’re fine,” the queen said. Silence followed. Their mother-by-marriage seemed disappointed that they weren’t going to continue to talk freely in her presence. With a long sigh, she said, “My sons are great men, but they are sometimes too stubborn for their own good.”

The princesses looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. The queen took a seat.

“Enough of this wallowing. This planet is in desperate need of more women and I intend to see that each one of you explores the powers you possess. Your husbands are warriors. I expect each of you has a clear idea now of what that means. But just because they made the rules, doesn’t mean you can’t use them. You have more power than you think.” The queen studied each one of them, before continuing, “I’m going to tell you something my mother said to me before I married the king. I never forgot it. She said, ‘Medellyn, men like to be men. Let them think they are in charge of everything. It’s a happy delusion. If you act like they do, you will only have male tools at your disposal—and let’s face facts, men’s natural abilities do not rest in their common sense. They need women to help them. They don’t always admit it, especially these alpha dragon types, but in many ways a woman’s gifts are so much more powerful than brute strength.’”

“I like your mother,” Olena said.

“She was an amazing mother and I was such a hardheaded daughter,” the queen said. “I used to think she was so weak for never standing up to anyone, until the day she manipulated me into going to the wedding ceremony. That’s when I knew her real strength came in her gentle ways.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Morrigan said, “but is there any chance you have more of those sugar cookie biscuit things lying around? I ate all of the ones you left with me.”

Queen Mede gave a small chuckle. “That was my mother’s recipe.”

Morrigan nestled her head against her arm. “Mmm, I like your mother, too.”

“Will we meet her?” Nadja asked.

The queen shook her head in denial. “No. She has long passed.”

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said.

“So, daughters,” the queen paused, eyeing each one, “tell me your problems with my sons and I will give you the Qurilixian solution. I think it’s time that the royal women had the upper hand for once. I have waited too many years to see my sons married to let them ruin my plans now.”

Slowly, one by one, the princesses smiled.

The queen nodded, happy. Looking pointedly at the closest woman, she said, “Pia, why don’t you go first?”

Morrigan couldn’t believe it, but she did indeed feel three hundred percent better after the afternoon chat. The queen was a great source of information and had been only too happy to tell her daughters how to gain the upper hand. The talk made the women closer too—like family. Morrigan smiled. A girl really could use a family. Now, all she had to do was get her husband in line. But, first things first—it was time to ease their marital tension.

Chapter 28

“Rigan?” Ualan called, rushing into his home. The door slid shut behind him. The lights had been dimmed, but he had noticed his wife usually preferred the softer torches to the harsher top dome light.

He clutched the missive he’d received in his hand. It said there was an emergency back home. The guard could tell him nothing else, even though the prince had nearly shaken him with worry. When he left that morning, his wife had been breathing and appeared to be fine. Looking around, he frowned. “Rigan?”

“Here.”

He heard her call overhead. Taking the stairs two at a time, he said, “I got a message that there was an emergency.”

“There is an emergency.”

“Are you ill?”

Ualan’s feet slowed as he reached the top of the stairs. His heartbeat nearly stopped. Lounging on his bed, her silken body indecently clad in the strap negligee he had bought her, was his wife. His mouth went dry and his brain went momentarily dumb.

The white lace straps ran haphazardly over her chest, crossing over to barely cling to her budded nipples. The silk underneath kept the lace in place, though not at the expense of covering the valleys of her delightfully naked skin. Darting low, one lacy slash of material made its way between her legs, legs that were parted slightly in natural invitation.

“Rigan?” Ualan inquired, his head automatically tilting to look up the length of her leg to the center slash.

Morrigan gave him a bold look. “Yes, there is an emergency. I am sick and I am tired, Ualan. And so are you.”

Ualan barely heard her words. The mirrored headboard gave him a lush view of her backside. By all that was sacred, his wife was exquisite. His eyes roamed the back of her thighs, only to come back around to stare at her lovely breasts, turned gold by the torchlight.

Morrigan slowly crawled to the end of the large bed, letting him look at her. His breathing deepened and his stomach tightened. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, coming forward to brush the sides of her breasts, framing her dark eyes. Leaning back, she slid her legs around and placed two heels on the floor. She spread her thighs and wiggled her finger at him to beckon him closer.

Ualan swallowed to see the naughty expression on her face, revealing her plans for him. His body could not take it if they were interrupted again. It had taken all his might to leave her passed out on the bed. Not that he could have done anything with her lying unconscious.

“Rigan, no,” he said to both their surprise. Was he insane? Everything his tight body desired was right before him, wrapped up like a deliciously wicked present. Ualan’s eyes trailing of their own accord to where her breasts lifted with each gentle breath. Blood rushed from his head, down his body to fill his cock with liquid fire. Shaking his head to stop the dazing affect her pale skin was having on his body, he managed hoarsely, “It’s not working with us. Maybe we should stop trying to force it.”

Morrigan wasn’t so easily dissuaded. He detected the growing passion in her eyes, challenging him. Licking her lips much to his carnal pleasure, she shook her head in denial. “No, it hasn’t been working. But that’s going to stop right now.” When he would protest, she grimaced and demanded in a loud voice, “I invoke the right of inn makti murr.”

Ualan was shocked. She was demanding her marital rights from him?

“Only men,” he began, putting his hands on hips, though a soft smile formed on his lips at her dominating stance.

“No. Did I ever tell you that I was a reporter, Ualan? And like a good reporter, I did a little research.” She flicked a strap off her shoulder while she spoke. It slid leisurely over her skin to rest over the tops of her breast. If she were to move, it would fall completely away. She held still.

Ualan couldn’t breathe. He already knew what her job was, but this was the first time she had ever admitted it to him. Did this mean she was changing her mind? Thinking of the conversation with Gus, he doubted it. Still, he watched her every move, too far gone with lust to do anything else.

“You don’t have to be male to invoke the right,” she purred seductively. “A wife has every right to her husband’s bed and if he refuses to fulfill those rights, she can demand them. If he still refuses without good excuse, he will be thrown into the dungeons for thirty days to rethink his decision.”

Ualan’s gaze steamed over. He knew the law—knew it very well. Swallowing, he could barely listen to her words. “That’s an old law. We don’t—”

“Law is law and, from where I’m standing, you don’t have a good excuse,” Morrigan said, with a meaningful nod at his arousal.

Ualan tensed.

“What say you dragon prince? Am I to call the royal guards?” Morrigan stood before him. To his disappointment, she pushed the strap back up her shoulder, however she did give him the sexiest pout he had ever seen.

In the back of his mind, Ualan thought maybe she was trying to seduce him for her own purposes. But, seeing her creamy skin reflecting golden in torch light, he ignored the feeling. There would be time for listening to annoying little voices of logic later.

“Do you wish to be imprisoned, or—?” she whispered.

Ualan shook his head, his eyes hungry as he devoured her.

“—are you going to get out of those clothes and into this bed to finally make love to your wife?”

Ualan nodded enthusiastically.

“Then undress.” Morrigan unabashedly stared as he obeyed. With a graceful sweep, the tunic came off his shoulders. Kicking his boots, he brushed them aside before slipping completely out of his pants. Boldly, he stared back at her, his eyes glinting with his inner fire. He knew no embarrassment, standing proudly before her.

Morrigan’s breath caught as she looked at him, appearing at a loss for words.

“Do I meet my lady’s approval?” He came forward with an urgent need to touch her. His head lowered and his body tensed ready to pounce.

Her lips parted and she gave a weak nod.

Ualan detected her matching hunger and took his opportunity to regain control. “Now you, wife, let me see what you claim I have been neglecting.”

Morrigan shivered. When she didn’t move fast enough, a wicked smile formed on his lips.

Ualan’s hand darted forward, pressing instantly against her heated pussy. He stood away from her, pleased to find her hot and ready for him. His fingers were stiff against her softer, damp flesh as he dipped inside her through the silk barrier. “Now who resists?”

“Ah,” Morrigan tilted her head back and moaned. Delicately, he stroked her clit. Her breath caught in ragged, openmouthed gulps. Her hips searched for something more.

Keeping some distance, save for the undulating fingers, Ualan leaned to breathe on her neck.

“So hot,” he whispered in dominating pleasure, “so moist.”

“Ah,” she gasped, thrusting more insistently in her mindless torment. She tried to get his fingers to dip inside, past the lips of her opening.

“So ready for me.”

“Yes.” Morrigan grabbed his shoulder for support and her thigh lifted to restlessly rub Ualan’s outer leg. She leaned closer. His arousal hit near her stomach, touching intimately, branding, scalding. Ualan let his fingertip shift into a talon and cut through the material keeping her pussy from him. She gave a small jerk of pleasure at the more intimate contact of flesh to flesh.

Feet planted firmly on the floor, Ualan lifted Morrigan by her ass. Forcing her legs to spread wide, he wrapped them around his naked waist. He held her easily, shifting her weight so he could claim her. Morrigan held on to his shoulders for support. Her breasts bobbed before his face causing him to growl and nip at the air.

He held her to him, leaning her back slightly in his passion. Morrigan clung to him, trusting him completely. She arched to receive him, seeking what only he could give.

He placed her back on the bed. The motion caused him to thrust against her. Morrigan whimpered in pleasure. He held a thigh off the edge of the soft mattress, pulled up by his waist. Her other leg dangled over the side. The mirror on the headboard gave him the most erotic view as he watched them join.

Standing, he kept his feet firmly planted. Ualan guided himself to her, stoking the tip of his cock along her wet opening to part her delicate lips. Morrigan moaned loudly as the hard length of him flicked over her clit before hovering at her brink.

“Oh, ye-ah,” he whispered, panting with the control it took to ease in rather than thrust hard into the slick offering of the temptress before him. The close-fitting hold was sweeter than anything he could have ever imagined. He couldn’t stop as he pushed deeper. The heat of her gripped him tight. A groan stuck in his throat. When it felt as if he’d filled her tightly stretched pussy to capacity, he pressed deeper.

Morrigan’s eyes widened in shock and she cried out in near panic, “Ualan.”

He had yet to give her his cock’s full length, but the sound caused him to withdraw a few inches and try easing in again. Her eyes teared slightly.

“I thought you said you were not pure. Have you been with a man?” He really didn’t want to know, but felt he needed to ask before simply ramming his dick all the way in.

Slowly, she shook her head in denial.

Ualan smiled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. He pushed at one of her thighs as it gripped his waist. He again pulled back and eased forward. “Try to relax and open your legs wider. I promise once you yield to me, my lady, you will enjoy being conquered.”

Morrigan thought of the emotionless, almost medical puncture of the human-like droid. She had chosen a beginner’s model to make it easy, one with a little endowment and a quick couple of pokes. The machine was nothing compared to the real thing inside her now.

Seeing his body was almost as pleasurable as feeling it. She watched the hard lines of his flesh ripple with muscles. He was so handsome. Bronzed skin lit with firelight, the flames dancing teasingly over the contours of his chest. He hadn’t even needed to touch her to make her body respond. Sparks, fire, flames of lust, whatever it was shooting through her, it was potent with its heady force and it was all for him.

The hole inside her began to mend. He was the piece she’d been missing. His chest heaved with hard breaths and she knew he held back from hurting her.

Her sex quivered and tensed. He felt much bigger than expected and his cock burned like a flash of searing heat. She’d known he was thick and long from taking him in her mouth, but even then she’d not accepted the entire length. Now he planned on conquering her completely.

“Does this hurt you?” he asked, his words a low animalistic whisper.

Morrigan shook her head. “No.”

“Your pussy is so snug I just want to pound into it and force it open.”

Morrigan took a deep breath and then another. She had waited for so long, been teased to such an unimaginable point that the pain of it was only a minor nuisance.

“More,” she demanded. Ualan looked in surprise when she thrust her hips up hard. “I want more. I want it all.”

He urged her legs onto his shoulders. Her polished toes curled next to his head. Ualan growled, going even deeper as he leaned forward.

Morrigan cried out. The small pain was nothing to the mind-blowing pleasure ripping through her. Suddenly, he couldn’t hold back. Encouraged by her continued cries of pleasure, he quickened his pace. His hips pumped faster and the thrusts became more powerful and urgent in his hunt for release.

Morrigan tensed, grabbing the bedding. She couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. Her sex trembled, sending quivering waves of intense pleasure throughout her entire body. Ualan didn’t stop. His finger found the sensitive nub guarding her entrance, circling it with fast strokes as he pushed her onward, hammering his violent need into her slick hold, forcing her over the trembling edge.

Morrigan’s body racked, exploding with the full force of her climax. Ualan’s conquering yell joined hers. He jerked inside her before holding frozen like a statue.

Morrigan panted, too weak to move, sure she was near death. Growling in masculine approval, Ualan dropped her legs and stared deeply into her eyes as he pulled himself free. She winced a little, but gave him a shy smile. He fell next to her on the bed.

Ualan stroked her tousled hair with the backs of his fingers. His eyes dipped over her disheveled negligee. Leaning over, he kissed her nipple lightly, before finding her lips to do the same. He pulled her into his arms.

“Did I hurt you?” Ualan asked.

“Not too bad. It just stings a little.”

“It will get better.”

Morrigan stroked his face. Trailing a line over his forehead, she whispered, “Does it hurt when you change?”

Ualan gazed at her in surprise, as if he’d thought she wouldn’t remember the event.

“Ualan,” she stated at his look. “I am a reporter. I have been all over the galaxy. I’ve even seen giant slugs get married. I’ve seen birds that could speak seven languages. I’ve seen—”

His lips cut her off. Pulling back, he said, “I get the point.”

“Anyway, I don’t know why you would think I would be shocked by a little thing like shifting.” Dipping her eyes shyly, she admitted, “In fact, it was kind of neat.”

“You love it, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“What?” She nuzzled his jaw, her whole being singing with contentment. His warm flesh felt so right against her skin. Her hands began to roam aimlessly, unable to get enough of him. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his muscular frame. She lightly trailed each and every indent of his chest, skating across it with her fingers. Ualan’s stomach tensed as she went over his ribs. “You mean reporting?”

“Yes.” The word was low. His hands tightened slightly on her in possession.

“I’m good at it. I get to set my own schedule, see the universes. I’ve learned different customs. I even get to set my own pay. I’ve worked hard for what I have.” She ran her fingers slowly lower, eager to see how much better sex would get. “It’s been my whole life. I don’t really know how to do anything else.”

Ualan said nothing.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How old are you anyway? The uploads that Galaxy Brides gave us were inadequate at best, but they said you lived for five hundred years or so. Is that true?”

“Writing a story?”

“Maybe,” she answered, thinking he was teasing her. She wondered if he had been married already. If her information was correct then he could live long past her death. Would he look this beautiful when she was wrinkled and old? How soon would he replace her with another wife? To think it was agony. She didn’t want there to be anyone else for him, but she knew she would never curse him to live hundreds of years alone.

She wanted to ask, but her treacherous eyes were drifting to his lips and her mind began to wander as she felt him stirring against her leg.

“Then close your eyes wife and I will give you a story to tell.”

Morrigan gasped as his body came over her. Soon his lips were caressing every inch of her form, licking and tasting, kissing and biting. Then, when he licked the center of her hot desire to soothe the ache his body had wrought in her, he brought her to climax with his mouth and she cried out anew, overwhelmed by the sensations. Nothing mattered at that moment of ecstasy but her warrior husband. She was where she wanted to be. She was finally home.

As Ualan held his wife afterwards, he knew she was what completed him. If only he could do the same for her. But he witnessed the light in her eyes when she spoke of her adventures. He was not so foolish as to believe the light was because of him. It tore at him, believing she longed for something he could not give her. His life was here, as was his destiny. The House of Draig needed him. He was the future king. He could never leave. Aside from a very few ambassador-like duties, he would live and die on Qurilixen. Until now, he had been content with that future.

If she would but stay, he would give her anything. He would pledge himself to her always if she demanded it. He would crush kingdoms at her command. He’d even buy her the damned food simulator she seemed so desperately to want. But, the one thing he couldn’t bring himself to do was let her go.

Morrigan stirred in his arms. Her hand journeyed down to his forming erection. Clearly not realizing the thoughts that troubled him, she kissed his ear, and asked, “Can I try being on top this time?”

Chapter 29

Morrigan’s body couldn’t have been more pleased with its mistress. It hummed with a gentle fire throughout the night and allowed her to face the morning rested and completely sated. Thinking of Ualan, she reached across the bed to search for him.

Well, maybe not completely sated…

“Ualan?” she asked under a yawn. She felt an empty space beside her on the bed and wrinkled her nose. Her voice rocky with sleep, she asked louder, “Ualan?”

“Yes,” came the solemn answer from their closet. She nearly blushed to remember some of the wickedly delightful things he had said to her in the night hours. Her husband really did have a naughty way with words.

“Come back to bed. It’s too early to get up.”

“It’s noontime,” he answered and Morrigan swore she heard him chuckle.

“Noon?” She shot up in bed. “Accursed planet. I can’t keep my hours straight.”

The chuckling stopped.

“What are you doing in there? Come back to bed by order of the princess. You’re a prince, and it’s not as if you have anything important to do anyway.”

At that, he came around the corner in his formal wear and crown. The crown circled his forehead, pushing his hair flat at the sides. The long black tunic hung past his knees, splitting open in the front to reveal his black breeches. The family emblem surrounded by a shield was embroidered on the front in blue. She quickly grabbed the covers to hide her naked body. His eyes dipped in disappointment, but he didn’t stop her.

“What’s going on?” She moved to stand. “Why are you all…princely?”

“There is a meeting with the other kingdom.” He smoothed down the longer sleeves of his formal tunic.

Morrigan’s brow furrowed and journalistic instinct kicked in. “King Attor.”

Ualan nodded.

“I want to go with you.” She dragged his gray coverlet with her in an attempt to scurry to the closet.

“You can’t wear that,” he teased.

“Just give me a second.” She turned and rushed back to look at him. “I don’t have anything to match that.”

“Sorry, Rigan. You can’t come this time.” Ualan brushed past her to pull a sword from a locked trunk in the closet. Strapping it over his shoulder, he took a knife and hid it in his waistband. Then, he strapped one in each boot. When he finished, he closed the trunk. She frowned at the gesture, but said nothing.

“Are you expecting trouble?” She studied him carefully as worry filled her.

“There is always trouble when opposing warriors get together.”

“You...” She paused, becoming terrified. Her eyes frantically searched his. “You won’t get hurt will you?”

“I thought you trusted me.”

Instead of answering, she gestured to the weapons’ trunk. “You can put them back. I’m not going to do anything foolish. I only had the knife because Pia was supposed to teach me how to knife fight.”

“I know you didn’t intend to act that way. I found one of your concoctions. You mixed Tetrex with Mifol. They are opposing stimulants that are harmless apart, but make you crazy when put together.” Ualan left the trunk unlocked. “I put these up before I’d discovered what you’d done.”

“Oh, but I am still very sorry about that. I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “Just stay away from drinking things when you have no idea what they are, all right?”

“Sure,” she agreed with an embarrassed nod. “Why can’t I come with you, Ualan? Please. I won’t say a word. I promise. I’ll be quiet. I’ll just watch.”

“We are giving King Attor the right of defense.”

“Why would he agree to that? He’s not under your authority.” Her mind worked with various scenarios. “What if he tries to kill one of you? What if he brings a laser blaster? Your swords will not work if you can’t reach him because you’re shot. Or—?”

“Laser weapons are non-functioning in the palace. We have a block wired into the central computer system that causes most of them to malfunction, and sensors will detect any non-authorized weapons. Besides, the Var believe them to be as dishonorable as we do. If the king was to openly hurt one of us in such a way, he’d be shamed.”

Morrigan wasn’t so sure. So far Attor sounded like a coward. Cowards couldn’t be trusted.

“If it is determined he is the one who poisoned you and stabbed Yusef, there will be justice and possibly an escalation of war.” Ualan tried to make his way to the steps.

Morrigan trailed behind him, dragging the coverlet. “Shouldn’t I be there? I was the one who was poisoned by him.”

“You are not on the war council.”

“Why don’t you just arrest him and put him in a prison. If you’re at war, then call him captured.”

“That wouldn’t—”

“—wouldn’t be honorable,” she mumbled, finishing the sentence for him.

“No, princess.” He came back into the room and wrapped his arms around her. Morrigan snuggled naturally into his strong chest. Concern shone in his gaze when he looked at her. “You stay here today. Attor’s men are here and everyone is instructed to stay within their homes. We will not have bloodshed. We aren’t going to risk losing anyone.”

Morrigan frowned, ready to protest.

“Shh,” he whispered when her mouth opened. “Promise me you’ll stay here.”

Slowly, she nodded. “All right, I promise.”

He let her go and led the way downstairs. She trailed after him, hugging her coverlet dress tight to her body.

“Can I visit the other princesses?” she asked.

“It’s not a good idea to be out walking the halls.” Going to the door, he commanded it open. “Food will be sent around in a moment. Only Mirox is allowed to enter.”

Morrigan nodded. “When will you be home?”

“As soon as I can,” Ualan answered. “It depends on what Attor has to say.”

“Wait,” she called when he tried to walk out the door. He came to her, brushing his finger over her lush lip when she would plead, “Just…”

His gaze glittered with rich golden flecks as he studied her.

Just be careful, she thought.

Morrigan didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to insult him by implying he would be outsmarted by his enemy and she didn’t want him to go. He smiled slightly and ran his fingers from her lips to her cheeks to give her a gentle caress. He kissed her with tender lips that held promises of later things. With a soft nudge of his forehead to hers, he let her go.

“Bye,” she whispered breathlessly, her knees left weak.

With a shut of the door, Ualan was gone.

Ualan was not pleased with his wife’s concern. It showed a real lack of faith in him as a warrior and protector. He knew his enemy. They had been fighting with the Var since before his birth.

Pausing in the hallway, he smoothed his tunic and needlessly tugged it straight. It was the uniform of the Draig war council. Women were generally not allowed entrance. Occasionally the queen would attend to give her opinion, but that was rare, and she was a dragon-shifter so it wasn’t really the same thing as Ualan’s human bride. Normally, his cousins would have come down from the mountain fortress to join them, but there had been no time and they were currently handling an offworld problem.

Besides, there was nothing the noblemen could do that the princes weren’t already doing. King Attor would most assuredly deny everything and an escalation was inevitable either way. Ualan hadn’t wanted to tell Morrigan that spies could already be in the palace. Whoever stabbed Yusef knew the back passages well enough to escape through them.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pictured Morrigan’s face—hair beautifully tousled around her shoulders and skin still rosy from the warmth of sleep. That is the image he carried with him as he steeled his nerves for the trials to come.

Even if he wanted to protect her from worry, he also knew he could not publicize his family’s affairs at such a delicate stage. Planetary business was not fodder for an exposé. This was a Qurilixian conflict. He did not want her attracting intergalactic attention to an age old feud. Others would only try to step in and help, causing more problems than solutions. This was their planet. They would deal with it.

King Attor denied all charges with a smirking grin. He knew so long as he was under the protection of justice, he would not be touched. Nothing was accomplished during the seven hours of talks. But, then again, nothing had been accomplished in the centuries of fighting that had occurred between the two kingdoms. Death attempts on both sides were nothing new, though none had occurred for over a hundred years. The Var were powerful opponents.

After the meeting, it took another four and a half hours to ensure King Attor and his men were back over the borders. A thorough search of the castle revealed nothing and the alert was taken off the village. By the time Ualan dragged his feet home, he was too tired to think.

The prince knew that soon they might be facing another surge of battles with the House of Var. Wars were terrible affairs for their kind. The battle surges lasted sometimes for fifty to a hundred years, with many deaths, and seldom any clear progress or victory. At best they could expect an uneasy truce while each side replenished their warriors and concentrated on rebuilding the population.

Seeing his wife already asleep, Ualan stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed next to her. She stirred when he wrapped his arms around her waist. Not fully opening her eyes, she smiled at him. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning over to kiss her. They leisurely made love, taking their time, as he tried not to think of what separated them.

Chapter 30

Ualan awoke the next morning instantly reaching for Morrigan before his eyes were even open. His hands hit with an empty bed instead of her warm flesh. Frowning, he opened one eye. She never woke up early.

A small panic filled him. Ualan thought of her leaving him, sentencing him to a lifetime of loneliness and hollow solitude. Tugging on pants, he rushed downstairs, expecting to see her on the couch. Quizzically, he tried to smile, going first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen. His smile faded. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. She was gone.

The warriors cheered good-naturedly as the four princesses, wearing dark breeches and tunic shirts, aimed knives at the practice post. Olena was the first to throw. She did fairly well as each knife made it into the center. The gathered soldiers clapped and stomped. She glanced at Yusef, trying to act like she didn’t seek his approval. A white bandage slashed across the prince’s arm but he looked well.

Nadja was hopeless, missing the target completely on all five tries. She glanced at Olek in embarrassment. The men applauded anyway.

Morrigan managed to hit the post on her turn, though they weren’t centered. She curtsied as she received her cheers.

She had awakened early, unable to sleep, as nightmares of armies invaded her dreams. Pia had sent a servant around with a missive requesting she “get her lazy butt out to the practice field for some sport,” an offer Morrigan could hardly refuse. Ualan had looked so handsome in bed, his arm resting above his head, his brown hair splayed messily around his face, a strand of which slashed over a closed eye. She didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing how hard he’d worked the day, and night, before. Morrigan smiled to think about it.

“Maybe you ladies should let a man show you how it’s done,” a voice called from the crowd.

Morrigan rolled her eyes at the other princesses to mock the man, as she retrieved the silver blades for Pia’s turn.

“Ach,” Agro cried. “You’re hardly a man, Hume!”

Pia took the knives, weighing them carefully in her hand as she tested them. Getting to the third one, she lifted it and studied the blade. Frowning, she went to her husband and handed it to him. She took a knife from his waist to replace it, testing his blade as she did the others.

At his curious frown, she announced loudly, “You need to check the balance on that one. It will pull a fraction to the right.”

While hardly moving a muscle, Zoran threw the blade over her shoulder. It stuck just to the right of the target. The men laughed heartily. Morrigan stared at Prince Zoran. He was even larger than Ualan. She shivered, thinking her husband was definitely the better proportioned and better looking.

Not turning around, Pia said, “Told you.”

Zoran’s lip curled up at the side. If Morrigan hadn’t seen the gesture for herself, she would have thought the man incapable of smiling.

Going before the target, Pia took a deep breath. Flinging one of the blades, she rapidly dropped to the ground to throw two more in roll. Then, coming to kneel, she threw the last two. The fourth blade struck against Zoran’s to knock it free, before sticking in its place. On the fifth, she turned her arm and it missed the post completely. The warriors watched in stunned silence, their eyes following the path of her last throw. It was a foot before Hume.

“You missed,” Hume said, to break the silence. The men went wild cheering. Pia took a graceful bow. The women jumped in excitement, basking in Pia’s victory.

Morrigan saw Ualan going toward his brother. A bright smile lit her face.

“Careful,” Olena teased, bumping into her arm. “Or else we might think you actually like the barbarian.”

Morrigan blushed, turning her eyes away, only to peek again from beneath her down turned lashes.

Zoran frowned at whatever Ualan was saying to him. Without uncrossing his arms, he nodded his jaw to where Morrigan stood with the other princesses.

Worry filled his expression as he came to claim her. “Come.”

“What?” she whispered, confused. “We’re still practicing. Pia is going to show us how to throw while rolling.”

“Don’t argue with me,” he ordered. “Come, now.”

Morrigan was too embarrassed by his attitude to do much in the way of protesting. He took her arm and roughly dragged her behind him. When she glanced back, she received looks from the other women that seemed to say they understood her situation and were sorry for it.

Morrigan’s embarrassment turned to anger as Ualan pulled her along a path that would take them closer to the village. Stumbling behind his faster stride, she tried to regain some dignity by jerking away from him. “What in the firepits of Bravon do you think you are doing?”

Ualan turned, glancing around as if to make sure no one watched. She frowned. Now he cared? He just humiliated her in front of an entire encampment of soldiers.

His voice low, he asked, “Where were you this morning?”

Morrigan thought about yelling, but she didn’t want to create another scene. “What? Is that what this is about?” she asked in disbelief. “You’re mad because I wasn’t in bed when you woke up. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was my duty to see to your…” Morrigan looked down at his pants and ground out, “your release each morning.”

“Rigan,” he warned. That’s not what he meant and she knew it.

Ualan looked at the nearby village and then took her arm and again pulled her behind him, this time going deeper into the forest. Morrigan trailed along in silence, hurt by his attitude. She’d thought after what happened between them in the night hours he would trust her more. Obviously, she was the only one deeply affected by their joining. The realization stung.

“Rigan,” Ualan began again when they stopped.

“No,” she growled under her breath. “I didn’t realize I had to check in with you whenever I wanted to do anything. You don’t want a wife, you want a cook and a maid and you want a slave. Well, I’m sorry master. I didn’t realize I had to be there for your pleasure each morning. Should I relieve you right now? Right he-re?”

Her neck stung and she tried to lift her hand to swat at it, only her entire side went numb. Her eyes rolled, and she couldn’t stop herself from falling forward.

Ualan stared at his wife. Even angry she was so damned beautiful. He wanted to hold her, but knew after what she yelled at him that she would think he only sought to force her into his arms. True, this morning he had been ready to make love to her again. And why not? It was one of the few times they weren’t strained emotionally toward each other. It was the one time when he knew her actions and words were pure and untainted by deceit. Besides, she was his wife. It was only natural that he’d want to make love to her. He refused to feel guilty about it.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, seconds before a dart shot out from the trees to hit Morrigan in the neck. She made a strange noise before falling.

Ualan caught her with one hand, automatically reaching for his blade with the other. Twelve light blond warriors jumped out from the trees. Their bodies sprouted fur as they shifted in the air, human features overcome with the look of a wild cat.

Ualan was forced to shift awkwardly, using his arm to deflect the enemy’s blows. They struck the hard flesh of his arm, cutting him with sharp claws. He tried to protect Morrigan, her feet dragging in the dirt as he called out to his brothers for assistance. Soon the princes were by his side, shifting into dragon while they met the cat-shifters’ attack.

The one-armed Yusef bravely hacked forward with his sword, giving Ualan time to get Morrigan to safety. Ualan dropped Morrigan to the ground behind his battling brothers as softly as he could before returning to the fight. Pia ran swiftly to join the men, throwing a blade into one of the creature’s throats. When Zoran swung his arm, she ducked beneath him, grabbing a knife from his belt.

Ualan glanced back, trying to keep an eye on her helpless body while still engaging the enemy. His distraction cost him as he felt claws biting into him again. Nadja stood close to Morrigan, but the woman looked too petrified to move. She stared at the fighting creatures—human dragons against human cats.

Olena darted to the fallen Morrigan and shouted something at Nadja. To Ualan’s relief, the two women pulled Morrigan away from the fray toward safety.

Almost immediately the Var retreated to the forest. Zoran nodded to his wife in pride, shifting back. Ualan turned, sniffing out Morrigan’s trail and took off down the path to see where the women had gone. Yusef and Olek were behind him.

Nadja was by Morrigan’s side, her eyes narrowed as she examined the wound. She gasped in fright to see Ualan’s dragon face. He instantly shifted back and lifted his hand to show her he was safe. Nadja’s eyes went to her husband. Clearly, their shifting was news to her.

Ualan reached for Morrigan’s neck.

“Don’t,” Nadja commanded. Ualan drew back in surprise. She nodded at his arm where red blisters were forming along his skin. “She is poison to you.”

Ualan’s jaw tensed, but he held back.

“You can’t move her yet,” Nadja said.

“But, the poison.” Ualan tried, desperate to help his wife. He didn’t care about his arm.

“Quiet,” Nadja insisted. “Let me think. I need to concentrate.”

Zoran and Pia approached from the battle, having checked to make sure none of the enemy remained.

Ualan looked at Olek who appeared as confused as he was. Olek shrugged, unable to offer an explanation.

“Give me your knife,” Nadja said to Pia. She reached out with shaking fingers. Her eyes darted around the now silent forest. Pia immediately handed her blade over.

Taking a deep breath, Nadja lifted the knife to Morrigan’s throat. Ualan stiffened, ready to pounce. Olek pulled him back. Nadja cut into Morrigan’s throat where the dart had embedded in the skin. Instantly, green began to drip and ooze from the incision. Nadja worked slowly, but soon had the star tipped points of the dart dug out of Morrigan’s neck.

Nadja dropped the blade and continued to bleed the poison out. When she had finished, she commanded Ualan, “Try touching her.”

Ualan did. He was left unharmed.

“It’s as I thought. I’ve seen this kind of poison before. Usually jealous old lovers do it for revenge. If you had torn the dart out of the skin, it would have released a poison into the blood stream. She would have lived but you would never have been able to touch her again. It’s ironic really. That way, it is the current lover who poisons the woman, sealing their fate.” Nadja stood, trying to edge away from the dragon-shifters. “You should get her to a doctor.”

Ualan touched Morrigan’s face, turning her head so he could look at her bleeding neck.

Nadja continued to back away. “I would say that whoever poisoned her didn’t want you to be with her.” The woman turned and ran away from them. Olek was right behind her.

Olena stood, watching as Nadja disappeared into the forest. Solemnly, she said, “She didn’t know about the Draig.”

“I’ll see to the perimeter,” Zoran said.

Ualan picked up his wife, not caring about Nadja’s fear of him and his brothers. She would get over it easily enough. All he cared about was getting his wife to safety.

Morrigan’s face had paled, but was regaining color. The puncture on her neck left a small mark, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. He carried Morrigan to the medical ward, unable to say a word. His heart squeezed painfully with the thought that he’d almost lost her…again.

Chapter 31

“Why do they attack the princesses?” Yusef asked with a frown. Olena stood by his side, her face unmoving. Nadja and Olek had not joined them, but Zoran and Pia stood next to Ualan. Morrigan was on the hospital bed, having been checked by the doctors and given some medicine to help along her recovery. If not for Nadja’s interference, she would have been as good as dead. She couldn’t imagine never being able to touch Ualan.

Pia was the first to answer. “Because without us, you will have no sons. Your line will end.”

Morrigan blinked. Her throat hurt too badly to speak, so she kept quiet. She watched the hard lines of Ualan’s face for a reaction. They had not spoken of sons, not seriously anyway.

Morrigan knew Ualan was mad at her. She couldn’t completely blame him, for she had said some pretty mean things. Though, could he blame her? He’d been so accusing, like she was up to something devious. Now, he barely even looked at her.

Her entire body ached and she wanted nothing more than to be pulled into his arms and protected. Once, she saw his hand straying as if to touch her, but it changed course and only scratched the back of his head. Her hope died into disappointment.

Pia’s mouth stiffened, as she continued, drawing Morrigan’s attention away from her husband to the problem at hand. “It makes perfect sense. I’ve seen you all fight. Especially with all four of you banded together, you would be a formidable opponent. You expect the attack. We are new here and it would be assumed that we had no clear idea of the dangers. Plus, we are women. Men—ah, no offense to anyone here—men, especially those from warrior classes, often misjudge women as unworthy opponents.”

The princes listened closely to her words, giving away none of their thoughts. Morrigan watched Ualan slowly nod in consideration of the words. She automatically sought to touch him, but pulled back, unsure how he would take the contact.

Pia looked up at her husband. “If you were to destroy an enemy, Zoran, would you attack their weakness or their strength?”

“Only a fool would choose to fight a strength if a weakness was to be had,” Ualan said, agreeing with the insight. Morrigan couldn’t take her eyes from him. How she wished they were alone so she could talk to him.

“Only they have obviously underestimated the strength of our women,” Zoran added.

“What better way to end this age-old feud, than to wipe out the leaders before they are born?” Yusef frowned, drawing Olena under the protection of his good arm.

“For, if we were to die with children,” Ualan said to his brothers, “there would be an heir that could sometime rise against them. If they ensure that our line is ended, when we die there will be no one to avenge us. With no king or protection, our people will be left without defense. Everything will be in chaos as our people try to decide who should take the throne.”

“It is imperative that we discover who is spying for the Var,” Yusef said.

“Spy?” Pia asked, frowning at Zoran. “You said nothing of a spy.”

“The man who stabbed Yusef was familiar with the back passage of the palace,” Zoran answered.

“Olena,” Pia turned to the woman. “You remember that servant at the festival, don’t you? The one who spilled his drink? It has to be him. He was no more fit to be a servant than I am.”

Olena shook her head, not recalling.

“What are you talking about?” Zoran demanded, studying Pia’s face.

“There are too many servants in the kingdom,” Ualan said. “For festivals, many come to help. It would take forever to locate them all just to find this one.”

“No,” Pia said. “He was at the coronation. The spy is probably here in the palace kitchens. I remember watching him fumble with some plates. He only carried two, unlike the other servants who carried four or more. It has to be him. He was graceless. Yet there was something different to his walk and his hand had a sword callous along the ridge. I would almost bet my life he is your man.”

Morrigan, having an idea and desperately wanting to contribute in some way, glanced hesitantly at Ualan. He didn’t pay her any attention. Knowing lives were more important than her pride or Ualan’s anger, she decided to speak. Her voice hoarse, she said, “I recorded that night on my camera.” Everyone turned to look at her. “I’m an undercover reporter for an intergalactic newspaper chip.”

Ualan stiffened but did not silence her. Morrigan searched him for a sign of emotion—any emotion. He was cautiously blank. She swallowed nervously.

“I was supposed to write a story about the royal weddings,” she continued. Turning to Ualan, her eyes pleaded with him not to be mad. But, her own discomfort over the confession would not stop her from helping her new family. “My camera will have recorded part of that night. Maybe Pia’s servant can be found on the relay.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Yusef said.

“I’ll go retrieve it.” Ualan stiffly left the room, his body tense with anger.

Morrigan was sorry he was upset. It was silent in the room and she couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, afraid that they, too, would be mad at her. When Ualan came back, he handed her the small eyepiece and the emerald trigger.

“Can you make it work so we can all see?” Yusef asked.

Morrigan nodded. “I think so.”

She requested some saline and wetted the lens before sticking it into her eye. Slipping the emerald on her finger so it could react with her nervous system, she turned the stone. A light shone from her eyes, darkening as she blinked. The others watched in amazement as a picture of the Breeding Festival floated in the air in front of her face.

Coming around to stand across from Morrigan, they eyed the round picture.

“Can you see it clearly?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ualan stated, his tone stiff.

“All right, just let me leaf through these.” Morrigan closed her eye so the picture would disappear. Instantly, she came across a video feed of Ualan the night of the Breeding Festival—his face proud, his delectably body oiled. Swallowing nervously, she pushed the button, trying her best to get through all the naughty photographs to the important ones. She’d forgotten those were on there, and made a note to erase them—just as soon as she looked over the fur loincloth one last time.

“Morrigan,” Ualan said gruffly.

Morrigan blinked in surprise at the sound. A flash of Ualan’s naked ass came up bigger than life before his brother’s faces. Olena and Pia made small noises of shock and amusement.

“Oh,” Morrigan panicked. She squeezed her eyes shut and furiously hit at the emerald.

Zoran and Yusef laughed heartily.

Wryly, Ualan drawled, “I had no idea I looked that good from behind.”

He was rewarded with punches from his laughing brothers.

Morrigan nearly threw up all over herself in mortification.

“Here,” Morrigan said, trying to get back to the business at hand. A screen of the festival came up. “I can’t play sound, but you should see the picture moving like a silent film.”

They watched in quiet concentration. Pia suddenly pointed and said, “There, stop, that’s him.”

Morrigan froze the picture with a tap of the emerald. She couldn’t see which person they were pointing at in the crowd.

“Yeah.” Olena leaned forward to get a closer look at the corner of the image. “I remember him. Now that you mention it, he was rather strange.”

“He has the look of a Var,” Yusef observed.

“But not the scent of one,” Zoran said. “Do you think he has found a way to mask his smell?”

“He wears the tunic of the kitchen staff,” Yusef added. “We will find him and question him. If he is Draig, it will be easy for him to prove it. If he is Var, he will come up with an excuse not to shift.”

Ualan nodded for them to go. Yusef and Zoran left with their women by their sides.

Morrigan shut off the camera and eased it out of her eye. Seeing Ualan’s extended hand, she gave the ring and eyepiece back to him.

“Ualan,” she began, weakly.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” He turned from her.

Morrigan watched his broad shoulders as he walked away. He was livid. When he came back into the room, the camera was gone. She wondered where he put it and didn’t really care, except for the fact she wanted to erase the pictures of him before anyone else saw.

“I was going to tell you about the article,” she tried to explain. “I—”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off. His lips pressed tightly together.

She knew she should demand he listen to her explanation about the article—that she would only submit it after she had his approval. It was against every journalistic code to give a copy of the piece to the subject before print, but she didn’t care. It was a small sacrifice to pay if it would regain his trust in her.

She opened her mouth to say more, but the doctor came back before she could get a word in. Ualan stepped back to watch the doctor work. She looked at him in dejection, wondering what he was thinking. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good and her heart broke a little because of it.

Morrigan was released into Ualan’s care. He carried her home and laid her down on his bed where he watched vigilantly over her as she fell asleep, completely worn. She was going to be all right. Ualan wasn’t. He felt horrible. It had been his duty to protect her and he had failed. Now, she was poisoned for the second time.

Soon after, Pia’s blond servant was apprehended almost immediately upon the princes entering the palace kitchens. They found him hiding behind one of the big brick ovens, ducking from his work. Zoran’s senses had been able to detect the Var smell beneath an all too potent covering of Draig.

The spy must have known he was found out, because he tried to run. It was no use. Yusef blocked the doorway. He punched the man square in the jaw with a swing of his good arm and laid him out on the floor.

The Draig servants watched in surprise at the sudden attack, but as they witnessed the lazy man sprawled on the ground, they cheered without knowing his deceit. As a fellow worker, the Var spy was not well liked in the kitchen.

The royal family sighed with relief at the news of the spy’s capture. Olek escorted the man to the lower prisons where he would be questioned extensively by Agro. Ualan had no doubt the warrior would discover much from the man. When Agro chose to shift, he could be most persuasive.

Ualan kissed his wife softly on the head. She made a weak noise but the medicine the doctors gave her would keep her from waking back up. Going downstairs, he went to work installing the food simulator he had bought for her as a surprise. He really didn’t like it and didn’t know why he had bothered, as he slid it into the wall. If he couldn’t protect her like he promised, then he couldn’t expect her to stay. He cared for her too much.

“Coffee,” he said to try the machine out.

When the door beeped, he pulled out a cup of steaming hot black-brown liquid. Smelling it, he grimaced. That couldn’t be right.

Closing the door, he said, “Sloken.”

The door beeped again and when he opened it he eyed the green liquid. It smelled normal and he tried a little taste. It wasn’t the best he ever had, but it was adequate. Maybe the machine was working.

Ualan went to check on Morrigan. Climbing the stairs, he joined her on the bed. Gently, he laid his hand on her hip, studying her sleeping face in the darkness. If she was unhappy on his planet, then all he could do was give her what she wanted. Though it would kill him, it was time to let her go.

Unable to draw out his love play any longer, Ualan guided himself into his wife. With a firm stroke, he delved into her moist opening, gliding into her like he belonged there. A victorious shout came from him as he claimed her. Morrigan growled in exhilaration, not caring who heard her loud cries. Ualan plunged onward in excitement, compelling her hot center to open for him and accept him in her tight depths.

Sitting back on his feet, he pulled her up so she could ride him. Morrigan did so willingly, pushing herself up and thrusting herself down in a blissfully decadent rhythm. Deeper he went, imbedded fully into the prison of her silky depths, only to be released and recaptured again and again.

Morrigan grabbed the sides of the bath, splashing water over the edge as she rode him faster and harder, seeking fulfillment.

“Ah,” Morrigan shrieked her trembling release into the Breeding Festival tent. Ualan met her, his cry rivaling hers in passion and release. Her lips parted, and he heard her whisper, “I love you, Ualan.”

Sitting up with a jerk, Ualan’s body was drenched with sweat. He blinked, looking around the living room before realizing he’d fallen asleep on the couch. It was only a dream.

He looked up toward the bedroom. His cock was hard, thumping against the restraints of his pants. Perhaps he should go check on her, he told himself, as he stood with a single-minded purpose coursing through his fevered blood.

“Ualan?” he heard her call softly through the darkness as he climbed up the stairs. “Is that you?”

She seemed frightened. Maybe he should comfort her. A devil’s grin came to his face. “Yes, Rigan.”

He heard her sigh. “I was having a nightmare. Where were you? I woke up and you weren’t here.”

“I fell asleep downstairs,” he answered. Was that disappointment in her voice?

“Oh,” Morrigan sighed. “Are you coming to bed now?”

Ualan walked over to the bed. He saw her clearly with his shifted vision. Her hand reached out for him. He tensed, moving so her fingers could find him.

Morrigan gasped. Ualan groaned. Her fingers had landed on his stiff member.

He watched her face carefully. She smiled, not knowing he could see her as she licked her lips.

“Ualan?” Her hand edged timidly over the material of his pants to feel him. Her lips parted and she panted softly. The welcoming perfume of her sex filled his nostrils. Suddenly, her hands were on his waist, drawing his pants down over his hips. The warm air hit him, fanning from her parted lips.

He saw her waver, as if she waited for his response.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded. His stomach tensed. Morrigan leaned forward lightly kissing the dip of his navel. His arousal brushed her cheek and again she looked up at him, unable to see him in the darkness.

The images of his dream came floating through his mind, powerful and all consuming.

“Undress,” he whispered.

Morrigan obeyed instantly. Ualan watched the unveiling of her flesh in the darkness. Her breasts rose and fell—tempting his lips. Just seeing her heated his blood past boiling. His skin was on fire with the need to feel her. And, by watching her jerking, hurried movements, he knew in this they felt the same.

“Turn from me and kneel,” Ualan said.

Morrigan trembled and appeared uncertain, but turned her back to him without protest, glancing over her shoulder to try to see if he moved. Her eyes did not cut through the darkness like his.

He placed his knee on the bed, shifting the mattress. “Bend over.”

“What are you doing? Please, I want you to touch me.”

“Bend over.” Ualan kneeled behind her, his body burning as he watched her. When she complied, he said, “Now back yourself up until you feel me against you.”

“Ualan?” She did not hesitate to crawl back on the bed. When she was within grabbing distance, he sprang forward and firmly grasped her hips in his palms.

Morrigan yelped, startled.

Ualan pushed her thighs apart so he could stroke her with his hand. She rubbed up against him. A low humming noise came from her and it drove him wild. His fingers gently parted her, sliding along her opening, stroking first one then two fingers up inside her. Her whimpering grew into cries of pleasure. Her opened mouth begged him for release. Only when he’d stoked her flames, did he pull her back against him.

Ualan pressed her down, spreading her wider so she was the perfect height to accept him. He groaned to feel her wetness taking him in. With a hard thrust he conquered her. Morrigan gasped at the fullness of him, as if still surprised that he could fill her so completely.

“Ualan,” she yelled his name, urging him on. Her hands twisted into the bedding, clutching as she tried to hold on.

Ualan moved, spurred on by the thrusting image of her body before him. Her breasts reflected back to him from the mirror, teasing him with their bobbing movements. Her back arched. His hand ran into her hair, pulling the tender threads lightly in his fingers.

Morrigan moaned in approval, clearly not minding his hold on the locks. Reaching a hand down her body, he stroked her clit as he thrust. She jerked and began to shake.

Their bodies built with the tension he’d created. They panted, moaned, yelled in ecstasy. Ualan hit against her, delving harder, deeper, faster. Morrigan trembled in violent gratification, her body tensing as she orgasmed with pure pleasure.

Ualan grunted and slammed his hips hard against her ass a last couple of times. He lost himself inside her, filling her with his seed.

He let her go. Almost instantly, Morrigan dropped. She rested on her stomach, raggedly gulping for air. Ualan fell onto the bed next to her, but his hands didn’t stray to her body.

Ualan wanted to pull her into his arms, but he would not delude himself into thinking she cared, when she did not. Didn’t the mention of her story mean she was still thinking about her past, longing for it? The loneliness, which drove him away from her earlier, returned tenfold to haunt him.

Morrigan laid awake listening to Ualan’s deep breathing and trying to gauge when he fell asleep. Why didn’t he hold her after their lovemaking? Desperately, she wanted him to touch her with tenderness and approval.

Morrigan thought of her limited years, of growing old and out of Ualan’s interest. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. He might desire her enough to come to her to slake his lust, but he wasn’t speaking to her.

Morrigan held still, her body weak from her climax. When she was sure he slept, she quietly moved from the bed, careful not to wake him. Dressing quietly, she sneaked down the stairs. Only when she was locked behind the new door of the bathroom did she allow herself to make a sound. Curling into a ball, she began to cry.

Ualan felt his wife get up and heard her soft descent down the stairs. He wondered what she was up to. But, as he heard the bathroom door open and close, he shut his eyes. His heart ached even as his body sung with the sensation of her. Detecting a deep pain making itself a home in his chest, he tried not to breathe. It was the feeling of his heart dying.

Chapter 32

Morrigan lounged across the arms of her chair as she let her bare foot dangle over the side. Ualan had been gone for the last day with his brothers, plotting vengeance. She knew he felt bad about what happened, but she didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t really tried to touch her since she’d sneaked off to the bathroom to cry, but Morrigan hoped he was just giving her time to recover. It was sweet of him to give her space, but she wished he wouldn’t bother. Biting her nails in a way that really irritated her mother-by-marriage, she said, “I need a job.”

“You have a job,” the queen said calmly.

Morrigan reached down and picked her coffee up from the floor to take a sip. Ualan had looked at her strangely when she thanked him for the simulator by sprinkling kisses all over his face and proclaiming him the best husband in the world. He had pulled away, mumbling something about needing to meet with Zoran.

Morrigan shook her head as she set the cup down. “Being a wife is not a real job.”

“The others might disagree with you.” Queen Mede laughed.

“Don’t get me wrong, it is work, but it’s not a job. I need something to do. I can’t just sit around here all day waiting for Ualan to get back from whatever he does. I need more than that.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Well, I am a reporter.”

“We have no need for a reporter.” The queen absently looked at her own fingernails. “All news spreads by word of mouth or royal decree.”

Morrigan frowned. She was restless. Ualan got to leave all day to do princely things. What was she supposed to do? Lie around and get fat? Not likely.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” the queen said, before scowling and motioning that Morrigan should take her finger away from her teeth.

Morrigan sheepishly obeyed, grinning like a disobedient child.

“Have you talked to Ualan about this?” the queen asked.

“No,” she muttered. “He seems to get all weird when I mention being a reporter. It’s like he thinks I’ve suddenly contracted leprosy.”

“What’s that?” the queen asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“A disease we eliminated on Old Earth long ago. It’s not important.” Morrigan leaned forward, steepling her hands beneath her chin in thought.

“Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?”

“How are Nadja and Olena?” Morrigan asked suddenly. “Ualan said something about them having a scare?”

“They’re fine,” the queen answered. For emphasis, she repeated, “Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?”

“Hide things like what?” Morrigan asked, seeing Queen Mede was getting to some sort of a point.

“Or maybe he’s scared?”

“Scared? Ualan?” Morrigan laughed. No, that wasn’t likely.

“Morrigan, when you say you notice a change in Ualan when you speak of it, do you mean you see it on his face? Or do you mean you feel it within you as if the emotions were your own?” Queen Mede leaned forward, copying her daughter’s pose.

“I feel it,” she answered, after consideration.

“That is because you can feel what he is feeling. And he feels what you are feeling. If you are discontent or wistful when speaking of travel and reporting, he will feel your longing. He might even think you long to leave him.” Queen Mede smiled sadly as realization dawned on Morrigan’s face.

“But, how is it possible?”

“Qurilixian children are given a crystal when they are born. It is their guiding light. When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in a way that can never be taken back. You exchanged part of your souls. By crushing the crystal, you assured the exchange would never be reversed. In a way, you are now his guiding light.”

Morrigan stiffened.

“Do you understand what that means for him?” the queen persisted.

Morrigan shook her head in denial.

“It means his crystal is broken. It means he put his every chance at happiness in you. He gave his life to you, Rigan. There will never be anyone else for him as long as he lives. That is a long time for our people, and for you. By giving you his life, he shortened his and extended yours so your fates could remain entwined. If you chose to leave him, he would be alone for the rest of his days. Without the aid of our blue sun, your life would play out like normal, maybe extended a few more years than usual. When he took you to his tent, it was his choice. When you stayed, that was yours. You’re it for him, Rigan. There will be no other in his bed or his heart. There simply can’t be.”

“You mean he was a…” Morrigan blushed, realizing she was talking to his mother.

The queen merely laughed, not shying away from the revealing question. “I doubt it. The princes have occasionally left our planet for ambassadorial duties. And, distasteful as it sounds, there are several roving bands of women with loose morals who make scheduled stops for the warriors. They are men after all.”

Morrigan blushed.

“Don’t think about it. It was before he met you. Once mated, they do not go back to such things—ever. Besides, I’m told there is something to be said for a husband with training.” The queen smiled and winked to show she was teasing. Morrigan chuckled. The queen continued, “He won’t go to them now. He couldn’t if he wanted to. You would know right away. Besides, if he wanted to, you would know that too. He doesn’t desire anyone else, rest assured.”

“And you’ve never regretted choosing one man?”

“Never, though around the one-hundredth year, they do start getting very inventive. It is something to look forward to.” The queen stood. “Now that I have set you straight, I have other daughters to visit. I swear, when you have sons, Morrigan, be prepared. They will bring you a handful of problems. But, then again, occasionally they’ll bring you flowers, and it will be well worth the frustration.”

“Just like their fathers,” Morrigan mused, liking the idea of having Ualan’s son very much. She wondered if he ever thought about children.

“Yes,” the queen agreed. She kissed Morrigan’s cheek. “Just like their fathers.”

The news came that night that the men were off to battle with King Attor and his cat-shifter warriors. Agro had discovered from the spy that King Attor did indeed plan on killing three of the four princesses. Olena, he wanted for himself, thus the attack on Yusef. Agro also learned Attor’s whereabouts and the Draig trackers soon had the position confirmed. It was a small encampment of Var on the southern borders of Draig land.

Morrigan was worried sick, but she had faith Ualan would come out the victor. Besides, after what the queen told her, she was confident she would feel it if Ualan was hurt.

The doctor came to check on her, reporting that all was well and she was nearly healed. She stayed up late, waiting until she could no longer keep her eyes open. No news came and she spent the night alone.

“Here.”

Morrigan glanced up from the couch in surprise. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a simple linen shirt and relaxed cotton pants.

Ualan’s voice was stern as he handed over her eye camera. He looked exhausted and worn from the battle. “This belongs to you.”

“I didn’t hear you come in.” She set the book she held aside. At her request, Queen Mede had agreed to provide books on Qurilixian customs. To Morrigan’s delight, her new mother sent cartloads of information—history, law, art, trade publications, myths and legends. Nadja had loaned her a specialized translator so she could read them. It was slow going, but she was doing research and loved it. Besides, it helped the hours pass until Ualan came home.

The books were piled around her in a big mess, but Morrigan didn’t care. She jumped up, stumbling over them as she ran forward to greet the tired warrior. She threw her arms around him. “I knew you were fine, but I missed you.”

Looking over her shoulder, he only half returned her embrace, holding himself back. Ualan took her hand and, lifting it, he set the eyepiece and emerald trigger in her palm. Slowly, he stepped back.

Morrigan blinked, confused by the gesture. She eyed him as she set it on a pile of books. “Thanks.”

Ualan nodded.

“What happened? They didn’t send word. Did you…?”

“King Attor is dead. We tried to arrest him according to our treaty and he called his troops to battle. Attor’s son will take the throne. Olek is speaking to the new Var king, negotiating a peace. It looks like our battles have ended, hopefully.”

“That is good news, Ualan,” Morrigan said. “I’m glad if there will be no more battles between you and the Var. The road to peace is surely a slow one, but I believe it can be achieved, if you do.”

“Some of the older nobles will protest on both sides. However, in the end, they will bow to the decision of their leaders.” Ualan eyed the piles of books.

Morrigan tried to sense his feelings like Queen Mede told her to, instead of relying on his minimal facial expressions. She sensed it had taken him a long time after arriving at the palace to get the will to come to her. That fact made her sad. He shouldn’t be hesitant to come home. He held his emotions back so she tried harder.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Morrigan bit the inside of her lips nervously. “What do you mean?”

He gestured at the books.

“Oh, the books. Just some research on local culture.”

“Hmm.” He handed her something else. “This is for you, too.”

Morrigan took the slip of paper he offered. It was a space ticket with passage from an Earthbase that would take her home. Confused by the gesture, she glanced up at him, and asked carefully, “What’s this?”

“It’s a ticket. In your name. One way to New Earth. You’ll have to make a few stops. Our transports don’t usually travel too far away from our airspace but my cousin, Lord Mirek, said they can drop you off at that Earthbase. You’ll have to travel to the launch pad in the mountains, but it’s only a day’s ride by ceffyl.”

“I can see that it is a ticket. But, what are you saying, Ualan? You want me to go? You’re sending me away?”

“I know you’re here to do a story, Rigan. Your communication with your editor was intercepted. I heard everything. You wish to tell of our lives, of our war with the Var, our marriages.” Ualan sighed, and she felt that he was too weary to keep fighting her. “Well, there’s your camera. You should have all the information you need to expose us.”

“Expose you? Why would I want to expose you?”

“You said you wanted to take your film and expose me.” His tone held more question than certainty.

“When?” She’s sure she would have remembered making such a stupid comment. She never intended to hurt anyone with what she wrote. Well, maybe Galaxy Brides Corporation—but she had been mad at the time. She doubted anything would ever come of it.

“When you were sick from poison.” He sat on the couch across from where she had been when he walked in.

Morrigan blushed, suddenly remembering what was on the camera. The image of Ualan’s naked ass came to mind and she blushed in embarrassment. Unable to meet his eyes, she admitted, “Expose does mean reveal, but it is also an old newspaper industry term that means to create a picture from its original storage source.”

Morrigan covered her face with her hands and she groaned.

“What picture?”

“I was going to keep your picture as something to remember you by,” she mumbled weakly, peeking at him through her fingers. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

At that Ualan gave a small smile.

She picked up the ticket and tapped it against her fingers.

“What are you going to write about?”

“I was sent undercover to gather information about the brides and your planet. I was supposed to do an article on the four princes at the Breeding Festival and the lucky women who they took as their wives. It would have been a front page exclusive. Humanoid women eat that romance stuff up. And, if I included pictures of sexy warrior men in loincloths?” Morrigan fanned her face with the ticket. “Whew! Then I have myself another sales award.”

“Lucky?” he interjected.

She narrowed her eyes at him and his gaze glowed golden in response. She shivered. He won. She looked away first.

“And now? What will you write?”

“I could expose you as shape-shifters I guess,” she said. “No one knows about you.”

“It would hurt us. We need brides and not many women would come to marry a dragon. We would have to go back to kidnapping, which is frowned upon. It could start a war with humanoid planets.” His features were blank, but she could feel the ache inside him.

“The story would make my career,” she said softly. “I would be able to get any assignment I wanted at any price.”

“If your life back home is so important to you, then go. You have all the evidence you need for a story.” Ualan stood. Sighing heavily, he said, “Go home, Morrigan. I will not stand in your way.”

“I never said I was going,” she answered.

“You never said you were staying.”

“What of us? Our marriage?” She knew all too well what he was willing to give up to see her happy. He was willing to sacrifice a lifetime of his own happiness and companionship to give her what he thought she wanted. No one else would ever sacrifice that much for her.

“You came here for me, not a story. The gods brought you to me and the crystal helped me to find you. And so it is I who will let you go. I will not be the cause of your unhappiness.”

She knew it was true. The story had always been an excuse. Part of her wanted to get away from her life. Part of her wanted to be protected and happy. She was tired of traveling, but had been unwilling to admit it before now. The dreams that were buried the deepest were the hardest to get rid of. She had held tight to her childhood fantasy of space exploration. The reality was nothing like the fantasy. Adventures were few and far between. The endless days spent alone in a space pod, traveling to a dank slime pit on the outer regions—that was the reality.

“I should call my editor,” she whispered softly.

Ualan nodded, sad. He waved to his bedroom. “The communicator is up there. I thought you might wish to contact him with your flight information, and I have left orders that your communication not be monitored.”

Morrigan stood, walking slowly to the stairs. The communicator and weapons were put back on the shelf. Next to them, she saw her crown. It looked different than she had first remembered it. The queen had told her in the hospital that it had been broken when she fell ill. Picking it up, she realized it glistened with the shards of Ualan’s broken crystal. He must have had it inlaid when he ordered it repaired. It was beautiful.

Setting the crown down, she picked up the communicator and turned it on. The floating screen popped up and, with a click-click, she dialed Gus.

She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the man bellow, “About damned time, Rigan. Where the hell have you been?”

“Hi-yah, Gus,” she forced her tone to sound light.

“Hi-yah? Hi-yah, Gus?” he demanded before calming himself. “I’m opening the lines, Rigan, send your story. It goes to press tomorrow. I’ve been holding the front page of the intergalactic edition for you.”

“I can’t do that, Gus. I don’t have it.”

“What? You still writing? Hmm,” he pondered, “well I guess you’re calling for your annulment papers. I tell you what. You send me a story and I’ll give you everything you need to get out of that marriage—first class ticket and all. How does that sound, Rigan?”

“Sorry, Gus. There is no story here. I was wrong. Oh, and I quit.”

“What?” the man screeched. “You can’t quit on me, Rigan. You’re the best damned reporter I have. No one could cover that slime planet like you did.”

“That’s because I’m the only reporter you have that would go to the slime pits,” she corrected.

“Is that what this is about? Fine. Your next assignment will be about spa treatments. Come on, you can’t leave this business. It’s in your blood. You’ll go crazy without it.”

“I found a prince, Gus,” she said, a soft smile on her lips. “And I think I am going to keep him.”

Morrigan glanced up to see Ualan standing in the doorway of the closet. An affectionate smile formed on his lips. Emotion flowed sweetly and openly between them, the one last obstacle having been torn down by her words.

“Rigan?” Ualan whispered, hope shining brightly in his handsome eyes.

“It would make my career, Ualan,” she whispered back. “But you make my life.”

“Rigan!” Gus screeched. “I can’t hear you, what did you say? Oh, never mind, you’re talking crazy anyway. Listen, I’ll let you out of your contract no problem, but you’ve got to give me an exclusive.”

“Gus, my contract expired years ago,” she said.

“Rigan, girl,” he insisted.

“Sorry, Gus.” She stared boldly at Ualan. “Take care of my apartment would you? Sell everything, but mail me my maid units—all of them.”

“I got it,” Gus said, not listening, “Star reporter falls for story.”

Morrigan smiled, not really paying attention to the blustering man. Her eyes shone with love for her husband.

“No, wait,” Gus broke in, clearly growing excited, “Princess reporter finds her prince.”

“No,” she said, her gaze traveling over Ualan’s firm body. He lifted a brow, moving to take off his shirt at the come-hither tilt of her head.

“Rigan, come on girl, you have to give me something.” Gus’ words were followed by the sound of a slamming fist.

“Sorry, Gus, no can do.”

“What about a book chip deal?” he offered. “I’ll give you a huge advance.”

“No. I want to live life for a while. I’m tired of watching it from the sidelines.”

“What about the princes?” His words almost sounded like a whine. Morrigan’s eyes were busy devouring her stripping husband. She stood to join him, pulling at her own top and throwing it aside. “What can you give me on them?”

“There’s not much,” she answered with a devilish wink.

Ualan’s brows rose high on his head in mock affront. He threw his shirt at her head. She caught it and tossed it away.

“They’re completely uninteresting,” she insisted, pursing her lips with a pretend sigh of boredom.

Ualan’s eyes turned to golden fire. Danger and excitement coursed through her at the look. She smiled with a beckoning heat. Ualan slid his pants from his waist, standing proud. Morrigan opened her mouth in artificial surprise as she stared naughtily at his erection.

Wickedly, she added, “And they’re very, very,” her eyes got rounder with each word as she finished coyly, “small.”

Ualan growled, pouncing forward. He swept her into his arms and pressed his naked body to her.

“Rigan? Rigan!” came Gus’ voice. They ignored him.

Ualan nuzzled her throat before bringing his eyes to bore into hers. Morrigan grinned. His hands were traveling over her back to press under her pants to her warm ass.

Quietly, she drew her finger over the muscles of his chest. “The doctor was here earlier to check on me.”

His eyes narrowed. Morrigan bit her lip, hesitantly moving his hand around to touch her stomach.

“What do you think?” she asked, almost shyly.

“I think, no, I know I’m in love with you,” he whispered, realizing she’d told him she was pregnant.

Morrigan’s expression shone brightly. “Really?”

He chuckled, leaning to kiss her deep and tender, his expression saying, Of course, silly woman.

“Oh,” she gasped when he let her reclaim her breath. Weak-kneed, she stared dreamily at him. “I love you, too, Ualan. I could never leave you.”

“Rigan,” Ualan growled, crushing her with a deeper passion. Gus kept yelling but they ignored him. “I’ve loved you since that first moment. I’ve loved you and only you my entire life. I promise to make you happy. You’ll never regret choosing to be my queen.”

“You’ve already made me happy,” she whispered, her heart in her eyes. Then, pulling back, she grimaced. “Queen?”

“Didn’t you know? I’m the oldest.” He leaned to sprinkle kisses over her nose and cheeks. “When my parents decide to step aside, you will be my queen.”

He tried to claim her mouth and she let him for a brief second. Then, pushing his arm, she asked, “Wait a minute. How old are you anyway, dragon?”

Ualan merely grinned. He supported her back, as he leaned her over his arm in an embrace that stole her words and her heart. Their souls were forever joined. No more talk was necessary.

“Rigan, blast it, you got…”

Morrigan was intent on having her way with her husband. By the look in his eyes, he was going to have his way too—for a very long time. His hands worked on her waistband before pushing her pants down to the floor.

“Rigan!”

Ualan grinned at her, wickedly gazing at her lips as he lifted his foot to the blaring communicator.

“Rig—!!”

Crunch.

The End

Perfect Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

By Michelle M. Pillow

Perfect Prince (Dragon Lords) © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

Previously Titled: The Perfect Prince (Dragon Lords)

10th Anniversary Edition, Third Electronic Printing June 2014, The Raven books

Second Electronic Printing August 2010, The Raven Books

First Electronic Printing September 2004

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ISBN 978-1-62501-085-8

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

About Perfect Prince

Dragonshifting Romance

A Perfect Escape…

Nadja Aleksander has everything she could ever want in life, except her freedom. Skipping out on her engagement, to a man her controlling father has chosen for her, Nadja books passage on the first spaceship she can find. Bound for a planet of primitive humanoid males, Nadja plans on finding a simple, hardworking man who will allow her to live out her days in total obscurity.

A Perfect Mistake…

Dragon-shifter Prince Olek is pleased with his refined and blushing bride. When she chooses him to be her life mate, appearing happy in her decision, his heart soars—until the next morning when his new princess wants nothing to do with him. Olek doesn’t know what he’s done to upset his alluring bride, but he is determined to reignite the hot sparks that burned the night they met.

To Mandy Roth: A Wonderful Author and Friend

Chapter 1

MAPH Aleksander, Medical Alliance for Planetary Health spaceship, X Quadrant, Earthbase 5792461

Nadja Aleksander inhaled a troubled breath as she took one last look around her room aboard the medic ship. Rich and luxurious silk draped the walls to hide the metal plates underneath. Every modern convenience known to space was at her disposal. She had a beauty bed, maid service, and a personal medic unit that checked her blood levels every morning and automatically wrote out her diet for the day.

Nadja had grown up in spacious rooms just like this one, traveling the galaxy with her surgeon father as he moved from medical assignment to medical assignment. She had seen many things, discovered many cultures and places. She had been accepted into the most royal of homes. She had been given everything she could ever want, except her freedom. It was a prison of gilded bars, but a prison nonetheless.

She wrapped her light brown hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and whipped a cloak around her shoulders. The thick folds enveloped her completely in its fur lining. She’d thought about changing the color of her hair to better hide her appearance, but she was sure her droids recorded every procedure she had done into a file for her father. If she tried to stray from her diet or cut her hair too short, the units would unexplainably have a mechanical glitch, stop working and her father would know about it.

Her heart thudded nervously as she contemplated what she was going to do. She had never been on her own before, never been without family and robot guards close by. For a moment, she hesitated, letting the fear of the unknown stop her progress. This was her only opening. It was tonight or possibly never. If she was leaving, she needed to go now. Setting a letter on her dresser for her mother, she hoped the woman would forgive her, even if Nadja knew she wouldn’t understand her daughter’s need to leave.

Going to the metal door, Nadja slid it open with the push of a button and then paused to listen. Below her deck level she could hear the celebration that would last well into the early morning. It was her engagement party and no one had noticed that the bride-to-be had been missing for nearly two hours. The event wasn’t about her anyway. It was about the joining of two men—Doc Aleksander and Doc Hank, two Medical Alliance associates.

She grabbed her bags, flung them over her shoulders and made her way across the ship’s hall to the small lift that would take her to the escape hatch. With a press of a button, she was whizzed down to the exit where it was only a few short steps to the dock below. She crouched under the ship, struggling with her bags as she tried to find where to go next. When she neared the pilot’s open ventilation grate, she heard a woman giggling within the cockpit. Irvette would be keeping the guard posted there occupied for the rest of the night, so Nadja wouldn’t have to worry about him paying attention to the docks below.

No one seemed to notice her as she rushed from the massive MAPH spacecraft, through the darkened hanger. The hanger’s bay doors were open, letting in a cool night breeze. She hurried past the small luxury crafts and the personal units waiting in line for maintenance the next morning. She didn’t want to risk taking anything that wasn’t in a condition to fly—not that she was the best pilot to begin with.

Nadja came to a corner and kept walking, not knowing where she would go. A local docking guard smiled kindly at her as she passed. He glanced at her bags and motioned her to move farther down the corridor to a carpeted gangway reserved for first class. She followed his direction curiously and saw a bunch of women loading into a nearby spacecraft. Above them was a banner that read Galaxy Brides in curving script. She took a deep breath and pulled down the hood of the cape.

A uniformed man with an electronic clipboard looked her over and smiled.

“Are you here for a last minute replacement?” he asked.

Nadja nodded.

“Sign here,” he said, handing over the clipboard. “We are several short so they will take care of your health screenings in flight. You’ll have room 206 on platform two. It’s the room all the way to the back. Ship orientation is tomorrow at 9:00 AM Earthtime. The ship runs on Earthtime, but there are conversion units in your room if you need them.”

Nadja signed her name on the digital line and handed the clipboard back. Her fingers shook nervously. She waited for the sound of her father’s voice ordering her to return, terrified that he would find her gone and come looking. As scared as she was to step on this unknown ship, she feared her father more. That’s how she knew she was making the right choice. Whatever waited for her at the end of the Galaxy Brides’ gangway was better than a golden cage.

“Galactic identification?” the man asked. Nadja gave him the card and he barely glanced at it. “Perfect, Miss—ah—Aleksander. Welcome aboard the flight to your future!”

“Excuse me.” Nadja kept her voice low. The man turned back around to look at her. “Do I owe you anything for the flight?”

“No, Miss. Galaxy Brides Corporation owes you.” He smiled happily.

“I wish to invoke the right of privacy law. If anyone asks, I’m not here,” she said, her voice naturally demure.

“Police?” the man questioned in surprise, though the idea didn’t seem to concern him. He had a quota to fill.

“Stalker,” she whispered. The man nodded in understanding. Nadja glanced around and saw a red headed woman standing in line behind her. She lowered her voice, and added, “He won’t leave me alone, so I am leaving.”

“I’ll make a note, Miss. That won’t be a problem.” He began writing on her file.

“And, by the way, where are we going?”

The man laughed. “Most women ask before they come down here. It must be some maniac you are trying to get away from.”

Nadja nodded but said nothing. She was too scared to turn around and look.

The man reined in his humor, and answered, “You’re heading to Qurilixen, Miss.”

Nadja nodded and the man left to check in the redheaded latecomer. She hesitated, looking at the banner, not really seeing it as thoughts swirled in her head. A droid came forward to grab her bags and began transporting them up the gangway.

There was no turning back. This was it. This was her ticket to freedom.

One month later…

Nadja smiled, looking nervously around the spacecraft’s beauty parlor at the other brides. They hardly seemed like the same women she had shyly met that first day of orientation. Since then, all of them had been enhanced with beauty machines. Their breasts had been lifted and enlarged using the latest technology in modern genetics. They’d been offered permanent body hair removal. The hair on their heads had been made to grow long, which Nadja had learned was the Qurilixian people’s traditional style.

Due to her upbringing, she did not need most of the services offered. She’d already been sculpted into her mother’s perfect doll and her father’s favorite bargaining chip. Had she stayed, she’d be Doc Hank’s new bride. A small chill of disgust worked over her skin leaving her sick to her stomach.

The ship provided educational uploads designed to teach the brides everything they needed to know about their new home through a few short hours of brain wave transfer. When Nadja stepped aboard the ship, she had no idea who the Qurilixian were. She only vaguely remembered learning the planet’s name in astronomical geography as a student.

Since the details hadn’t mattered, she’d signed her agreement without even reading it. This was part of her new life of taking chances, and any fate would be better than the one aboard a medic ship with Hank. She had decided she was going to take the first available transport and that is exactly what she had done. Her father and the fiancé he had picked for her would never expect her to make such a bold move. She was going to be free.

Free.

That one idea filled her with longing and hope.

Freedom.

It appeared taking chances was going to pay off. She didn’t miss the irony that she ran away from one arranged marriage to another. But, at least this one was of her doing and her doing alone. She was the only person who had anything to gain or lose. Or, more correctly, she and whoever she married.

Nadja couldn’t have been more pleased to discover the ship had set course for the outer edge of the Y quadrant, to a place inhabited by primitive males in need of wives. It’s exactly what she would have asked for. It was perfect. Qurilixen was far away from where her father would think to search for her, and the planet wasn’t a member of the Federation Alliance and thus didn’t recognize Federation laws. Without planetary participation, her father wouldn’t be able to use the extradition act to register her name and force her to come home. If he tried, he risked causing an intergalactic incident. Since the Medical Alliance for Planetary Health (MAPH) where her father worked was a big part of the Federation Military’s Alliance, along with several other key agencies, Doc Aleksander would have to answer to a lot of powerful people if he went rogue over a missing daughter.

If Nadja’s new home was truly primitive, they might not even keep a digital record of her being there. She could fade away from the technological world.

Freedom.

The very idea of not being monitored and watched caused little bursts of excitement to jump through her. She could hardly imagine it—not having to stand properly, with a smile pasted on her face because of her position, not worrying about what she said because someone might record her and quote her on it and embarrass her family, not worrying about her hair being perfect because she was about to meet royalty or Docs or…anyone.

Freedom.

Qurilixian women were incredibly rare because the natives had been affected by a blue radiation that altered their reproductive capabilities. From all indications, the radiation sounded harmless to everything but male sperm. But, it’s not like the universe was narrow. They might be primitive, but the Qurilixian had access to bridal procurement corporations like Galaxy Brides to fulfill their need for women, and they had an abundance of rare ore that they could mine to pay for those women. The ore was a key ingredient needed to make a high grade fuel that could power larger ships for longer distances. This was business economics in its purest form—supply and demand.

The rest of the details didn’t matter. They would supply a home. She would supply whatever it was wives needed to do. Hard work didn’t scare her and she could learn anything she set her mind to. She doubted Galaxy Brides would be able to stay in business if they traded with disreputable planets, so she really had nothing to fear as far as physical safety.

Nadja smiled, liking the idea of such a future. She had been born on a ship going light-speed and she was tired of moving around. She wanted to stay put for once and develop roots. She wanted to make a friend and keep her, and not because the friend was a paid servant who her father fired when he thought Nadja had become too attached. It was hard to develop friendships when the other person realized exactly who her father was. She’d seen more people pale and back away from her than she cared to remember.

As to the grooms, she didn’t care what they looked like. She wasn’t picky. It’s not like she planned on falling in love. She’d been smothered in the so-called love of her parents her whole life. No, she did not look for love. Nadja would be happy with her freedom.

Anything was better than the pervert her father had chosen for her. Medical advancements might allow Hank to regrow his thinning hair and trim his thickening waist, but all the technology in the world couldn’t make that man’s personality tolerable. She should have known something was up when their ship changed its scheduled course. In hindsight, it was easy to see they’d purposefully flown to a region where the laws permitted her father to select her husband for her.

Soon it wouldn’t matter. Tonight was the night. She’d be married by morning.

Qurilixen only had one night of darkness a year, and it was only during that time that men could find a partner at an event they called a Breeding Festival. Nadja thought it a fitting name for such a primitive ceremony—Breeding Festival, simple and straight to the point. And honest. She respected honesty. They didn’t call it True Love Night or make promises of fairytale romance. Instead, they gathered together for a single, efficient ceremony that combined an engagement, wedding, honeymoon and, presto, you were a married couple who could get on with life.

Nadja held still as the six robotic hands of the beauty droid flew around her head, putting her hair into a traditional Qurilixian upsweep. She glanced to where Morrigan Blake sat nearby. The woman was quieter than the rest and always appeared distracted, as if her mind swam with thoughts that had nothing to do with her surroundings. Nadja had tried to talk to the woman a few times over the last month and found her to be rather intelligent and polite. Truthfully, Nadja was surprised that an independent woman like Morrigan would choose to go to a place like Qurilixen as a bride. But, then again, she supposed all the brides had their reasons for being there.

Still looking at Morrigan, curiosity got the better of her, and she asked softly, “What about you, Rigan? Have you finished your Qurilixian etiquette uploads?”

Morrigan blinked in surprise at the sound of her name. Nadja guessed she had disturbed her thoughts. The woman gave her a distracted smile.

“Rigan?” Nadja repeated, really hoping to have someone to talk to. As much as she wanted friends, she’d discovered she wasn’t very good at making them. Her reserved nature and a lifetime of trained behaviors made it hard for her to socialize. A lot of the women on the ship were loud and vivacious. It was hard for her soft-spoken nature to get noticed.

It took Morrigan’s dark eyes a moment to focus, and before she could answer, another voice boomed into the conversation. “Didn’t you know?”

Nadja politely looked toward the sound of trilling laughter to where a beauty droid was placing the customary short veil over Gena’s curly red hair. The woman was crass and obnoxious, but Nadja found herself patiently waiting for her to continue. Gena practically snorted, as she added, “Rigan finished her Qurilixian uploads first. It would seem she is most eager to please her new husband.”

“Or to be pleased by him,” Nadja heard someone insert. This last comment was followed by nervous giggles. When Nadja again looked at Morrigan, she swore she observed the woman’s eyes roll upward in annoyance.

Most of the women spent the trip speaking of princes and noblemen husbands. The truth be told, Nadja wanted a working man—someone with a small house and a garden. She didn’t want a pampered life anymore, where society dictated her actions. She wanted to fade away from the responsibility and spotlight and perhaps help people. All the charity in the world couldn’t reverse the things her father and his cronies had done, but she had to start somewhere. Marrying a small town family doctor would be ideal. However, she would be happy with a farmer or miner or anyone who could provide a decent enough life so they would never starve.

“I wish I could be so ambitious. I’m afraid I didn’t sit through a single one of those boring uploads.”

Nadja had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, that she didn’t catch who spoke.

“I tried on my gown this afternoon,” Gena announced. Nadja flinched as the woman brazenly poked at her own chest. “They are gorgeous, but I think I am going to go get my breasts enhanced again—just a little bigger—and I’m going to have my nipples enlarged. Those princes won’t be able to resist me. Maybe, I’ll marry all four of them just for fun.”

“How will you know who the princes are?” came Pia Korbin’s cynical reasoning. Nadja was intrigued by Pia, who was perhaps the most beautiful on the ship. A large part of that beauty came from her not seeming to realize her own physical charms, or that she was the envy of half the passengers. “I’ve heard all the men wear disguises. You could end up with a royal guard.”

“Or a gardener,” a brunette offered with a laugh.

“I hear they wear practically nothing at all,” another teased. The woman had flaming red hair and sparkling eyes the color of Old Earth emeralds. “Except a mask and some fur.”

“You can’t miss royalty,” Gena announced with a bounce of excitement. “You’ll see it in the way they move. I have a very keen sense with it comes to sniffing out money and power.”

Nadja certainly hoped so. She wanted to avoid nobility at all costs. However, if Gena was chosen by a prince, she hoped the monarchy was more of a figurehead than an actual political force.

Nadja doubted the princes would be there. Royal matches were hardly made by whim or chance. They were more of a calculated maneuvering. A royal family would never gamble on a stranger. It was more than likely an advertising ploy used by Galaxy Brides Corporation to make the trip more enticing. If so, it was a good one, for it had worked on most of the women here.

Morrigan stood as her droid finished, prompting Nadja to try and do the same. Her droid wasn’t done placing her short veil, and metal hands firmly pushed her back down. Nadja sighed, resigned to remaining in her chair.

The spacecraft was a nice one, though her suite on the medic ship had been nearly twice the size as her one aboard this ship. The service was adequate and the staff completely biomechanical, so that none of the women could be compromised. Nadja was used to the pampering and thought nothing of it. Besides, robot servants were cheaper than living ones—if you fairly paid them a wage, of course. One lifecell battery would keep them running for a century or more.

One by one the women finished their beauty treatments, and went to get dressed. Nadja eagerly stood, but Morrigan was already gone. She sighed, guessing that Morrigan was one mystery she wouldn’t be able to solve. Too bad, she would have liked having the intelligent Morrigan as a friend.

A sad loneliness filled her as the others walked out in preformed groups without her. She had been too bashful around the bolder women to make too big of an effort. Besides, they would never understand her desire to marry a commoner and not a prince. And she couldn’t talk about her past. She may have run away, but that didn’t mean she’d break the code of silence instilled into her at birth.

What if things didn’t change? What if she always remained that one silent decoration in a crowded room, smiling at everyone but connecting to no one? What if she was incapable of forming a true bond? Nadja looked at her hands. What if she was broken?

“Miss Korbin,” a robotic voice said. “This way, it’s time for your last treatment.”

Nadja glanced over her shoulder, not realizing one other bride remained. Pia frowned at the robot before returning Nadja’s look. Nadja politely turned away from the woman’s hazel stare.

Nadja slipped down the metallic passageway to her own room. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and took a deep breath. This was real. It was happening.

Seeing the wedding gown laid out on the bed, her heart beat quickened and her eyes teared up with nervous fear. Whispering to the empty room, she said, “Please let this be the right thing. Please let me marry a good man without grand aspirations.” She took another deep breath. It was time to see her future.

Chapter 2

Nadja’s future came in the form of a reddish-brown planet surrounded by blue-green dusk. Stars had begun to show overhead, winking down at the planet’s surface from above as they framed a large spotlight moon. Alien trees grew high with enormous canopied leaves, tented like the Old Earth parasols Nadja had seen at a Florencian moon living-museum. A few of the older specimens were wider than a small luxury spacecraft. The forest circled around them on one side. A distant mountain stood high on the other.

She turned back to the trees, wondering what kind of plants she would find. It was too dark to explore and collect samples of the local flora and fauna, but she could hardly wait for the opportunity. Once she got them back to the lab, she could…

Nadja swallowed. She didn’t have lab access. Not anymore. All she had was the few bags she had been able to carry off her father’s ship.

She turned her attention back to the festival. Nadja waited near the front of the bridal line. The light green silk and gauze of her wedding gown looked nothing like the gown she would have worn to marry Hank. When it was laid out on the bed, the gown had actually looked like a full dress, and she hadn’t dreamed the outfit would be so revealing once she put it on. The skirt looked like it had been mauled by a wild beast. Well, perhaps that was unfair. The strips of material were evenly sewn, but they were still strips, hanging like thick strings around her legs. The quality of the hand-stitching was excellent. Whoever made the garment was a fine seamstress. The wind stirred the material around her calves and thighs, exposing peeks of her flesh she’d rather not show in public. Luckily, the bodice was snug to her hips and chest, and wouldn’t be blowing anywhere. Not so luckily, the gown was low on her chest to reveal an indecent amount of cleavage.

Nadja shivered, suddenly feeling very much like a sacrificial offering. At least she wasn’t alone. The other women had on similar dresses.

Symbolic shackles had been placed on her wrists. They were made of cloth and fastened across her back. The cuffs wound over her forearms. It reminded her of the toe dancers who tied ribbons around their legs. The restraint effectively held her arms down at her sides and made free movement impossible. It took a beauty droid’s help to get her tied into the thing.

Nadja had matching green silk shoes, and a short veil of the same shade that fluttered around her ears and tickled her face. Fear tried to creep up inside her. It was too late to turn back. She had nowhere else to go.

In an effort to calm herself, she looked down the platform. It was the worst thing she could have done. The bachelors of Qurilixen were lined up like half-naked soldiers awaiting inspection. The men stood shoulder to shoulder, facing each other in two lines. The formation created a center aisle the women were meant to walk through.

Nadja drew in a long, nervous breath. Fires burned brightly encasing the grooms in a softened orange light. The men were in exquisite shape. She had not been expecting that. Yes, the uploads had said these men were categorized as a warrior class, but she hadn’t translated that to mean godlike bodies. Not a one was overweight, or too short, or disfigured in some way. She saw a few battle scars, but that was it. Since they had been peaceful for nearly a century—according to Galaxy Brides—she kind of assumed warrior class meant drunken evenings filled with bawdy songs around a campfire, and a general easy-going lifestyle. Isn’t that what primitive people did for fun?

It occurred to her that she really didn’t know all that much about such classes of people. They always looked like they were enjoying themselves from where she stood with the nobles and medical elite. What did warriors do when they weren’t warring?

Music and laughter filled the night. Couples kissed and petted each other freely and no one but the brides seemed to notice the displays. Though the grooms were calm, there were other men in the campground who yelled and cheered. Young warriors posed their muscles, flexing and bending as if to draw the brides’ notice. Nadja guessed they weren’t part of the actual ceremony but rather boisterous onlookers who came to have a good time. She wanted to be a part of their merriment, a number in the crowd, one of many.

The event was presided over by a couple sitting in throne-like chairs. From their position, she would have assumed they were in charge. However, as the woman leaned over to kiss the man, Nadja wasn’t so sure. The royalty she knew didn’t act like that in front of others.

The smell of burning wood and fresh air stirred intoxicatingly on the breeze. Pyramid tents spread out over the open field with colorful banners varying in size and design. Torches were set up to light the paths between them. The firelight caused the canvas walls to light up and the flickering gave the impression that the tents breathed.

Nadja swallowed, fighting the urge to run back into the ship. What had she done? Just because she desperately wanted to belong in this world, didn’t mean she was equipped to.

I will not be ruled by my fears, she told herself.

Much like the bronzed statues she’d seen on a trip to New Earth, the grooms held perfectly still. Pride radiated off of each and every one of them. She could see it in the lift of their jaws and the immodesty of their clothing. Only a man confident in his body would be seen in nothing but a loincloth and black leather mask. Oil glistened on their chests and legs. The gleam caused by the firelight accentuated the tight muscles. Each warrior stood at least seven foot tall with broad shoulders and thick chests. Because the black masks hid everything but their mouths, it was impossible to see their features. An intricate bracelet wrapped some of their upper arms and they each wore a crystal necklace.

Nadja closed her eyes, trying to recall what the upload program had taught her about them. “The Qurilixian worship many gods, favor natural comforts over modern technical conveniences, and prefer to raise, grow, and cook their own food. They have been peaceful for nearly a century, aside from petty territorial skirmishes that break out every fifteen or so years between a few of the rival houses. So brides have nothing to fear.”

Nothing to fear?

Nadja opened her eyes and focused on the aisle of flesh. The men waited for them to walk through so they could choose their mates. A small shiver worked over her. She continued to stare at the grooms. When she blinked, she realized dusk had fallen into night. She had no idea how long she’d been standing.

The erotic smells of fire and food combined with the foreign rhythm of their tribalistic music. Everything around her was so primal and barbaric. From solid neck to muscular legs, the grooms were perfection. Nadja was horrified. She didn’t want perfection. She wanted the middle-aged doctor with the friendly smile and kind eyes. Not a demanding warrior who exercised too much and was assuredly self-absorbed, or liked to talk about…what did warrior men talk about? She didn’t want her blood to race in her veins. She didn’t want her heart beat to quicken and her body to quake with sensations she wasn’t used to feeling.

On the journey over, the ship conversations had almost always turned to sex, and Nadja learned more than she cared to from some of the other women. It was one area where her education had been lacking, thanks to her sheltered upbringing. But now, looking at the flesh and bone before her, she could see why the women had been obsessed.

A man in a pilot’s uniform returned up the docking plank with his electronic clipboard. He nodded in a businesslike fashion to the brides, his shipment having been made. Soon the line was moving forward and the surrounding campsite became deadly still except for the music. Nadja’s feet were forced to move with the line. She didn’t look around as she kept her eyes on the red earth where she stepped.

Soon the lustful gazes peeking out from the walls of glistening flesh forced her to look up. The men’s lips were pressed firmly in thought and their eyes shone like the sun reflecting on water, boring forward in golden concentration. Her mind went momentarily numb as a spell was cast over her senses. Her lungs expanded, filling with air, and yet she was breathless. She tried not to stare. She tried to keep her eyes forward, but then…

Nadja’s heart stopped and her ears became plagued with silence. She was sure she was dying, drowning in the liquid pool of dark green eyes. Somehow her feet kept shuffling forward. Her body was too stiff to do aught else but follow where she was led. Her limbs didn’t obey her half-hearted commands.

The warrior who stared back at her was one of the tallest in the line. Her mind screamed no, but her body demanded, yes him! His crystal necklace pulsed white and her body swayed in hot physical response. When his lips parted, she felt as if he kissed her. The impression of his mouth’s texture, so real against her lips, stole her breath. Her hand lifted weakly as if to push him back. That’s when she realized he was too far away to touch her. Never had lust hit her so strong or so fast.

No. He wasn’t the right type. This was all wrong. He wasn’t what she was looking for. She had it all planned out on the ship.

The man bowed his head toward her as she walked by. Promises reflected in his aggressive gaze as it dipped boldly over her body. When his eyes made the slow journey back up, she saw his possessiveness through the narrow eye slit of the dark mask. In that moment, Nadja knew she had been chosen.

Prince Olek of Draig’s body sung with liquid fire, and he was filled with a deep longing and hope. The tall creature before him complimented his height, while her slender figure begged for his protection. She had the perfect coloring of a solarflower—the white porcelain skin of the petals, light blue eyes of the center ring, and light brown hair of the soft velvet stem. She was confident and refined, yet reserved in her expressions.

Olek imagined putting his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. His fingers curled, instantly wanting to touch her hips only to glide down her long legs to worship at her feet. His body stirred beneath the fur loincloth. It was going to be a very long night.

To his surprise, she swallowed nervously at his attention and tried to break the contact of their eyes. The crystal pulsed on his neck, holding her gaze to him. He was pleased by her modesty as he sent her a kiss. Her cheeks flamed slightly with a blush. He practically tasted the sweetness of her lips on his mouth.

Bowing to acknowledge her as she passed, Olek gave himself the pleasure of watching her walk away. By her nature he deduced she was composed and dignified. He grinned happily. This woman would make him a very fine wife.

The line of brides filtered past, and soon he could no longer see his future mate as she made her way to the feast his people had prepared for the women. Olek moved toward the temple with the other bachelors who had been chosen by the gods to proceed with the ceremony. His cousin, the High Duke, caught his attention. Olek tried to see if the man had a glowing crystal. Though this was Olek’s first attempt at marriage, this was Bron’s seventh or eighth year. Several of his cousins had very bad luck when it came to finding a bride. Year after year, the gods neglected to give them happiness. He hoped this year would be different for all of them.

Olek’s smile never wavered as he walked toward the temple to give thanks. His cousins’ luck was not his own. Tonight the gods had indeed blessed him. He’d found his princess.

Chapter 3

What a strange way to pick a life partner, Nadja thought, trying to take a bite of Qurilixian blue bread. Her hands shook too badly, and she was forced to set the slice down. She had thought there would be more to the actual choosing process than walking through an aisle.

It would have made sense if the prospective couples talked, or even danced, while they spent time getting to know each other. Then again, maybe such meet-and-greet customs were an illusion. No one was going to show their worst in a first meeting. Marriage this way was a gamble. Why prolong the decision? Nadja had to hand it to the Qurilixian men. They knew what they wanted and they obviously just took it.

A large buffet offering of foods had been prepared, spread over the long wooden table to which the brides had been directed. There was an array of local meats, fruits, cheeses and breads. She watched a bride bite into a tiny pastry. Steam rolled out of the hot dessert and the woman instantly inhaled several deep breaths to cool her tongue.

Nadja even thought she detected white chocolate at the end of the table. Real chocolate was hard for most people to come by. Her father always had an abundance of it on the ship, but Nadja’s diet plan rarely allowed for the indulgence. The sweet morsels were too far for her to reach, and she was too nervous to ask one of the servants to fetch her some.

To her surprise, Morrigan had chosen to sit beside her. Nadja followed the woman’s eyes to where she stared at the married couples feeding each other by the firelight. The brides’ table was set aside from the rest of the festivities. The offworlders drew minimal notice from the jovial Qurilixian couples who seemed much more interested in their partner than the visitors.

Nadja nervously picked up a silver goblet of wine, swallowing the sweet liquid a serving man had poured for her. She was grateful for the drink and hoped it would help calm her nerves. The servants were fully clothed, not like the grooms had been. The memory of piercing green eyes and a delectably muscled body caused her to drink faster.

Nadja observed that the style seemed to be long hair for both genders. The women wore dresses of flowing material. The men wore simple tunic shirts and breeches, definitely having the appearance of an Old Earth Medieval influence. Wearing such clothing would take some getting used to, but she would adapt.

“Where do you think the grooms went off to?” Morrigan asked quietly.

Nadja, surprised the woman was speaking, quickly swallowed and opened her mouth to answer. She knew that the men went to prepare for the night’s events. Her words were cut off by a servant who filled her half-empty goblet.

“They go to make offerings to the gods,” the servant said. Nadja lowered her goblet to the table when he’d finished filling it. The servant topped off Morrigan’s liquor and urged the women to drink with a movement of his hand. They didn’t. He scratched absently at a thin scar across the tip of his nose, as he continued, “They ask for a blessing on this night in finding a wife.”

“I thought that was what the bridal procession was all about,” Morrigan said.

“The Procession of Finding reveals the gods’ will but does not guarantee a match.” The servant again motioned for Morrigan to drink and she did so with a look of annoyance. The servant smiled and wandered off.

“Are you nervous?” Nadja asked, keeping her voice low and not touching her drink. Already she felt a little dizzy and didn’t want the alcohol to affect her thinking. Her suitor was a big, strong man and she’d be a fool not to be apprehensive about his size. When Morrigan didn’t answer, Nadja gave an uneasy laugh. “I can barely sit still. I think this drink has a lot of liquor or something in it.”

Morrigan still didn’t answer, only continued to drink as she helped herself to blue bread. Nadja looked around, but there was no one else she could talk to. She realized how alone she really was. On the ship, she had a sense that they, as women, were joined in a common mission. Now, on the planet, everyone would be thinking of themselves and their futures—as was natural.

This was too much. She couldn’t follow that gigantic man back to his tent. It was all wrong. He didn’t fit the picture in her head. She wouldn’t know what to do with a man like him. He was too big, too warrior-like. She had expected someone small—more academic in nature. She had her fill of tough guys with aggressive personalities while living under her father’s rule.

“Rigan?” Nadja insisted in a whisper. She felt the blood draining from her face.

Morrigan quietly looked over.

Fearful, Nadja bit her lips and leaned toward the woman. “I’m scared. I think I’ve made a mistake. Do you think they would let me go back to the ship?”

“What’s wrong?” Morrigan asked, her eyes narrowing in concern. Her body tensed.

“I…” Nadja paused and shook her head. Her eyes teared as she thought of the invincible body of pure sinew and flesh. Hearing the sexual jokes around her and seeing the couples kissing in the nearby field, she knew she couldn’t go through with it. Her heart pounded so hard it nearly choked her. Weakly, she managed, “They’re very big, aren’t they?”

And primitive. And confident. And energetic. And…

“Who, the men?” Morrigan questioned needlessly.

“Yes,” Nadja whispered. A loud shout of laughter came from the field and she began to pant for air. The more she thought about the reality of her situation, the more terrified she became. Surely a man of her suitor’s size would injure her. She touched her temple, trying to stop her head from spinning. “Do you think they will…will hurt us? They seem bigger than most humanoid men. This place is not what I imagined when I signed on. Actually, I don’t know what I imagined.”

She had been so busy running away, that she didn’t stop to fully consider what she was running toward.

Morrigan looked surprised. “Nadja, have you been with a man before?”

Nadja shook her head in denial, embarrassed. Her father was a Medical Alliance doctor. Every morning up until a month ago she had been given medical checks. If her virginity had been compromised he would have known and he would have been livid. Whoever took it would have ended up at the wrong end of her father’s scalpel and she’d have been locked in punishment for the rest of her life. She’d barely even been kissed, too afraid the medic unit would report the foreign germs on her mouth.

“Not even a droid?” Morrigan insisted.

“No.” Nadja’s eyes roamed over the fluttering tents in the distance, unable to meet the woman’s probing gaze. Morrigan seemed very adept at reading people. Trembling, she lied, “I was always too embarrassed to go to the clubs and try one. But I’ve seen pictures. Do you think these guys are…shaped differently than human males? The uploads were not specific as to their heritage.”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” Morrigan admitted. “I think that galaxy law requires the species to be, uh, physically compatible before they are matched up. Otherwise, the marriage would do no good. We’re all humanoids. Besides, I hate to sound crass, but the whole point of this is so they can propagate their species.”

“I suppose,” Nadja answered, not comforted by Morrigan’s cold view of their situation. She gripped her goblet tight before lifting it to gulp more of her wine. Without having to be asked, a servant was right there to refill it for her. She drank that cup too, much to the man’s obvious pleasure.

“Did you ask any of the others?” Morrigan inquired when the servant had retreated down the table. “Have any of them said anything about not being with a man before? Or maybe having been with a man?”

Nadja was confused, not sure how such a thing was relevant, and shook her head in denial. Aside from the general sex talk and unsolicited advice, they didn’t discuss their personal sex lives with her. “We’ve never discussed it.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Morrigan smiled. Nadja barely saw it. “I hear several of the women have had their virginity replaced. So it can’t be that bad, can it? It hurts for a second, but no more than the series of shots they gave us on the way here.”

“I suppose you’re right, though I hadn’t heard that.” Nadja nodded in agreement and tried to calm down. It wasn’t working. She was too scared. Surely she could make it back to the ship before it was too late. There were jewels and other valuables in her bag that could easily pay for a return trip. Once back on the Earthbase she could find another ship to take her somewhere else—anywhere but here.

Silence fell over the grounds, drawing her attention away from Morrigan.

Too late.

“Oh!” Nadja gasped, stiffening. The men had arrived. Instantly, she picked the tall, green-eyed barbarian out from the crowd. It was as if he sensed her, instantly finding her at the table and coming directly for her. The effects of the wine swirled in her head and she again felt as if she were losing her hearing. Voices became low murmurs.

One by one, the prospective brides fell silent. As they watched, the handsome warriors made their way to stand below the table. Their eyes scanned and quickly fixed upon the woman of their choice.

Nadja’s heartbeat thundered in her ears, as if keeping time with her suitor’s steps. Thump, thump, thump. Closer he walked, up the platform, to stand before her. The crystal around his neck pulsed with a soft light, doing something to her will. A fog descended on her reason. The green-eyed barbarian’s presence consumed her with liquid fire, tearing down her inhibitions and resolve. She tried to fight it. She tried to turn away from those probing green orbs, that pulsing white crystal. It was no use. He was there and he was looking at her as if she already belonged to him.

Sound came back in a rush. Music again filled the air. Its low rhythm was as sweet as a warm spring sun, and as gentle as the wind’s caressing kisses. It enhanced what was happening inside her, flowing into her chest and pulling her forward.

The man leaned toward her and her breath caught. Two braids were wound into his hair from temples to ends. The silken locks dipped to his shoulders, brushing forward as he moved. When he smiled, a lighthearted expression that drew her in, she nearly swooned. She reached for a drink, desperate for anything to keep her from jumping up and discovering if his lips were anything like she imagined. Her hand never made it. His lips parted to speak and her hand fell down to the table.

“I am Olek, bride,” he said. The seductive tone of his voice made sure there was no mistake as to why he was there. He had come to claim her. “Come.”

Nadja didn’t refuse. How could she? Those eyes commanded her with a soft magic. She saw kindness in them and relaxed. Maybe his large build meant he worked hard for a living. He could be a carpenter or a farmer. He might not be a warrior at all. He could not help it if family genetics had made him tall, and gave him the most perfect of eyes. The thought helped to calm her fear. However, when he smiled an alluring smile, her fear returned tenfold.

Nadja stood and held his gaze as she walked with him to the edge of the table. Magic filled the air with a spellbinding force, controlling her as she dutifully followed Olek’s lead. When she came to the end, he took her hand in his. The warmth seeped into her chilled fingers, shooting sparks of fire up her arm. She shivered in anticipation, but the feeling was overshadowed by an intense fear of not being able to live up to his expectations. Surely a man like this would be used to women in his bed. Would he expect her to know what to do? Would he be ashamed of his choice when she didn’t even know how to return his kiss?

He escorted her from the feast to the campgrounds before letting go of her hand. She walked silently behind him. The position gave her ample view of his strong back. Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t look away. The muscles in his hard thighs pumped with each of his graceful steps. Her eyes traveled up to where his flesh dipped beneath the loincloth. She had seen naked men before when she watched her father perform surgeries. She knew that men’s privates came in all different shapes and sizes. She hoped this one came small. Looking at his broad intimidating shoulders, she swallowed nervously. Very, very small.

He took her through the campgrounds, past a row of pyramid tents. Tiny tokens had been pinned to the outside of them. Nadja saw the other women ducking inside them with their suitors, giving little protest. Laughter drifted on the breeze as the married couples enjoyed their own celebration. The fires still burned. Music played faster, encouraging the couples to dance.

Olek stopped next to a green tent and Nadja almost bumped into him. He turned, giving her troubled expression a laughing grin. He tilted his head toward the inside of the tent, directing her to go in. When he spoke, the soft burr of his accent rolled over her. “Come, bride.”

Again, she couldn’t deny him, moving to dip under the green tent flap he held up for her. When she drew near him, she smelled the warm oil on his glistening skin. It mixed with the natural scent of him. She breathed deeply. This was as close as she had ever been to such an inadequately dressed man before.

She faltered in her movements, glancing up into his eyes. Before she knew what was happening, a strong hand was on her face, gently cupping her cheek. The touch was fire to her already flushed features. Her lips parted with a ragged, scared gasp. Olek took it as an invitation and dipped his head forward.

Nadja almost screamed when he tried to kiss her. Her first reaction was to run. Dodging under his arm, she darted inside the tent. Nadja froze mid-step as she looked around. The red earth floor was covered completely in soft furs. It cushioned her feet beneath her slippers. Below the center point of the pyramid was a high platform bed, which required a step to climb onto it. Silk hung down around the sides, stirring delicately in the torchlight like soft white clouds.

She should have run out of the tent, not in.

Spinning to do just that, she realized the only exit was still blocked. She was trapped. Olek grinned, though the look seemed baffled.

“I-I,” she stuttered, not sure how to explain her rude behavior, or if she even should.

Olek let the flap fall shut behind him as he followed her inside. He resembled a stalking beast after his prey, relishing the anticipation of the hunt.

Nadja turned from him and was again met with the giant bed. She recoiled from it as if it was covered in poison. It occurred to her how intimate this night really could be. Stumbling back, she bumped into an incredibly hard chest.

She jolted in panic, scurrying away from the solid, warm muscles. Her eyes darted around, taking in the three corners of the enclosure. In the first, there was a bath drawn, the steaming water coming out of the basin. A sweet perfumed scent rose with it. Folded towels, bath oils, and rinses were neatly arranged at the side.

The next corner had a table full of chocolates, fruits and cream sauces. A bench with cushioned seats stretched along the side, resembling a couch. An earthen wine jug was set in the center. Feeling the heady consequences of the liquor she had drunk too much of at the feast, she turned away from the food.

The third corner, behind the bed, was harder to see from her position so she ignored it. Feeling rather than hearing Olek coming up behind her, she again panicked. Swirling to face him, she held up her arms and backed away. Her hands shook. This was not how she imagined being alone with a man would feel like. She always assumed it would be like reporting to one of the robot guards, or talking to a dignitary at some function she was forced to attend.

But Olek was half naked and smiling at her like he knew every thought in her head. Did he somehow realize she liked looking at his oiled chest, to the point where she made a conscious effort not to? Could he know that when his hand had briefly held hers, her nerves had tingled, were still tingling? That the idea of his kisses both excited and terrified her?

Merriment poured from his gaze and she blushed to see it. He held back, standing tall as Nadja studied him. Before she realized it, her eyes were traveling a seductive journey of discovery over his taut chest. Already his small nipples were hard buds. His flesh dipped in all the right places only to rise and swell with each of his shallow breaths. There was no fat on his chiseled form and she doubted they employed beauty services to remove fat cells on a planet like this. His body was all natural. She bit her bottom lip, absently chewing at it as she looked him over.

His broad shoulders carried his strong arms with ease. They were arms that could crush her if he so chose. The metal band on his biceps would have fit on top of her head like a crown. Looking closer, she saw that the jewelry was shaped like a dragon winding over flesh.

Nadja looked at his covered face. He did indeed appear bold and strong like a dragon.

“Are you pleased?” he asked confidently when she didn’t move. Again, his smile was alluring and light. She could tell by the expression that this was a man who laughed often.

She blinked nervously, trying to erase the image of tight flesh burning into her memory. He took a step forward, moving as if to touch her.

“No,” she commanded, her eyes narrowing. Her words stopped him. Her breathing deepened. “Just stay back a moment.”

His head tilted to the side, waiting for her command.

Nadja took another deep breath, trying to control her undisciplined emotions and wild heartbeat.

“I don’t think there is a need to do any of…” She swallowed nervously and looked at the bath and then the bed. Shivering, she tried to lift her hands to cross protectively over her chest and grew frustrated by the binding straps. With a frown, she tugged the belt off her arms. “I meant to say, I know the tradition of this night is to prove yourself a worthy mate by a display of your…”

As Olek arched a brow, she saw the shifting beneath his mask. His eyes dipped to focus on the way her breasts bounced with her jerking movements. She freed herself from the arm ties and left them to hang at her waist.

Swallowing over her embarrassment, she crossed her arms over her chest to break his gaze, and uttered, “Your prowess.”

The grin widened over his amazingly firm lips. Those lips weren’t fair. No man should look that delectable. Nadja made a small sound of distress before continuing. She knew he wanted her to choose him for her husband. It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t really speak until she granted him permission. The only way to grant him permission was to accept him as a husband. Hurting his feelings wasn’t a great way to start off their possible life together, so she tried to speak carefully.

“I am telling you, there is no need for that. I am not concerned with…” Nadja felt like kicking herself. The words sounded weak and trembling. Normally she could speak with soft confidence, always reasonable and logical and well-phrased. Her voice came out in hot, breathless pants. What was he doing to her? Her body felt like it was on fire, like she needed to take off her clothes and jump into a snow drift. She started to sweat. Absently, she fanned her face, trying to concentrate. Forgetting where she had left off, she repeated, “I am not concerned with your prowess—ah!”

Olek boldly whipped his loincloth from his hips and dropped it to the fur-lined floor. His feet parted. His arms fell to the side as he held still. He stood naked and proud before her, inviting her to look her fill of him.

Nadja inhaled deeply, unable to speak. Her eyes rounded into large spheres. She couldn’t look away. The size of his mild erection was very much in proportion to the rest of his oversized anatomy. She stretched her fingers, eager to touch his cock, to have it touch her. The center of all her aching began to pulse with desire, becoming scorchingly hot at the idea. She’d dreamed of such things, on those lonely nights far away from any spaceport. Fear kept her from acting. But now? Now there was no medical reporting system to stop her from doing what she wanted.

To her mortification, an extremely playful grin spread over his mouth when she didn’t turn away. His naked body flexed as he took a single step forward, the movement powerful and predatory. The muscles of his stomach led to rock hard thighs and hips. Nestled beneath a narrow treasure trail of hair, which climbed down from his flat navel, his blatant arousal grew in size and strength. His hands lifted to his naked hips, the fingers tapping lightly against his flesh as if to point at his rising cock. She thought he might touch himself.

Nadja gasped and tried to look away but couldn’t. She waited to see what he would do next. She’d read once that men could harden themselves at will. It never happened on the operating table.

She felt like her body rocked on undulating waves and she night have to catch herself to keep from falling. Olek looked nothing like the men on her father’s operating table. They had been floppy. He was solid, massive…oh.

His hand slowly slid forward. Nadja was disappointed when he merely scratched his stomach and brought his fingers back to his hip. He didn’t move, letting her eyes look their fill. And she was looking. In fact, she could do nothing else.

Olek watched his lovely bride carefully, enjoying the way her lips sucked between her teeth, as she tried to utter whatever it was she was trying to say. She fluttered around nervously, which only made the dragon instincts inside him want play. Round blue eyes stared at him as if he were a serpent waiting to strike. Since her gaze had kept dipping to his fur loincloth, Olek took it as an invitation he wouldn’t dare to refuse and pulled the clothing off. The results were slightly comical, but mostly endearing.

She looked away several times only to have her eyes dart back and her lips move, though nothing audible came out. If he wasn’t careful, this flushing innocent in front of him would faint dead away. Already he could see she had stopped breathing altogether. Yet, despite her intense interest in his cock, her fingers fisted in front of her, as if ready to strike him if he were to pounce. Olek gave a very arrogant chuckle, unable to help himself. What man wouldn’t feel a little overconfident when a beautiful woman was rendered speechless by the look of his naked body?

“Are you pleased?” Olek asked, trying to keep a deep growl of passion from his voice. The words held much more meaning than before. They were a testament to his mounting desire. If she kept looking at him so eagerly, sucking at her bottom lip with such concentration, he would defy all the gods and take her right there and now.

The woman snapped her mouth shut and spun away. She flung her hand frantically behind her and weakly commanded, “Get dressed. I told you I don’t have any interest in…that…thing.”

“You are not pleased?”

She wouldn’t be able to see his spreading grin and possibly didn’t know that he was teasing her. A sound of distress left her and she hugged her arms around her body.

“Do I not please you?” he insisted when she didn’t answer.

“No, you’re built fine…ah, finely built, Olek, really you are. It’s just I don’t put much stock in these things. I think we have more important—oh!”

Olek couldn’t stop himself, determined to prove her shy words wrong. The little ornery dragon inside him made him do it. When she fluttered so nervously, he couldn’t resist teasing her. With her body so close, he couldn’t stop from touching her. Many grand and wicked ideas filled his head. He moved to nuzzle her delectably slender throat with his parted lips, lightly poking his tongue against sensitive flesh. She trembled at the contact.

Olek grinned alongside her neck, whispering “I do please you.”

Olek was toying with her, just a little. He couldn’t help it. This delicate creature fluttered so nervously, that he imagined she might try to take flight like a tiny bird and dart away from him.

His bride belatedly jumped away, rubbing where he’d kissed her as if to remove the feel of his moist touch. He could tell it didn’t work. He knew it. She would try to deny it.

“Stop that, you one-track barbarian,” she demanded heatedly.

That stopped him short. He studied her, wondering if her harsh words masked her anxiety. Or was she really annoyed with him?

She glanced back at him, taking another quick peek. Her words stunted, she ordered, “Get dressed.”

“Choose,” Olek said instead. The one word harder than he’d intended.

“I-I can’t choose, Olek,” she answered. “Not yet.”

His bride backed further away from him. Olek stepped with her, not bothering to cover himself from view. What did she mean by “not yet”?

She came to the side of the tent and was forced to stop. She couldn’t escape. There was no where she could run that he couldn’t find her. Already her scent was in his head. Every sense he had, focused on her. His eyes narrowed, shifting slightly so that he could focus on her neck. Her pulse beat wildly beneath her skin. His ears picked up the frantic rhythm. Olek was careful not to let her see his dragon-shifting abilities. Too many brides had been frightened by the beast in the past. Besides, his people didn’t want word of their special talents spread over the universe, so he couldn’t show her until after they were married.

He lifted his hand to gently stroke the backs of his fingers over her cheek and neck. His touch paused below her ear, near her racing pulse. Continuing to caress her, he tenderly insisted, “Your name.”

His bride blinked, as if under a spell. Maybe she was. The light glow of the crystal caressed her face, pulsing with the power of what was between them. But Olek didn’t need an amulet to tell him how he felt. He knew the first moment he saw her. This woman was meant to be his.

She gasped for breath and looked momentarily confused.

“Your name,” he repeated, making sure he used the Old Star language. He was usually pretty good about that, but this woman had him completely enthralled. It was possible he would accidently slip into the Qurilixian tongue of his people.

Leaning over, he kissed the corner of her lips. His bride stiffened, not returning the caress. Her widened eyes stared out at him. Olek closed his eyes and smoothly brushed his dry lips over the length of her mouth, hoping she would part her lips. The pulse quickened beneath his gauging fingers. Olek detected the stirring of her desires in the intoxicating perfume of her sex. His cock tightened, begging its owner to answer the call of her pussy.

The shape of her breasts beckoned his hand. How could he deny himself the pleasure of the soft mounds? The backs of his fingers trailed over her collarbone, dancing along her quivering flesh. She slowly lowered her gaze, as if her lids had suddenly become too hard to hold up. Olek drew his fingers over her porcelain flesh, dipping over the top curve of one breast, deep into the valley, and then over the second. He didn’t grab or caress like he desperately wanted to, instead letting her get used to his closeness. She shivered anew, goose bumps rising along her chest.

He slid his fingers over her skin another time, passing over one sweet mound and then the other. When her breathing deepened and he could hear the heart hammering in her chest as if it was his own, he grew bolder. His finger slipped between her flesh and the silk of her gown. Starting at the side, he drew along the bodice, plunging deeper with each passing second. As he reached the center, her nipple was already half erect, awaiting him.

Olek took a deep, agonizing breath as he curled his finger around the bud and pulled it up to rest on the top edge of the gown. Then, continuing on, he did the same with the other side.

His bride’s eyes flitted up to him as his finger continued to curl in an aimless pattern, not touching the liberated centers again. When he had her gaze steadily caught in his, he deliberately looked down, letting her see that he watched her body’s reaction to him. His mouth parted, blowing hot breath onto her skin. Her nipples budded to hard erection.

Gasping, she pulled her head back from him to break the torturous contact, and closed her eyes. The tent’s wall blocked her escape.

“Choose,” he urged her.

Olek nearly groaned in disappointment, when she pulled up the bodice with a fidgety jerk to hide the round gems of her nipples from view.

She placed a hand firmly on his chest, He had kept distance between their bodies when he touched her, but if she asked him to he would have gladly closed the space to give her what every screaming nerve in his body begged him to. It was as if his body recognized her completely and wanted her to fulfill every need.

“Put your clothes on first,” she whispered, her throat working in nervousness. “Please.”

Olek smiled softly at her, seeing the seriousness to her eyes. He slowly nodded.

Nadja knew Olek would expect her to be a wife in all ways—especially in these ways—but she wasn’t ready to accept a marriage. She needed some questions answered first. Logic would not let her choose blindly, not when the outcome involved the rest of her life.

All too aware that he was still completely naked, she tried not to look. Tried, but failed.

Nadja stayed next to the tent wall. Olek turned to get his clothing. She allowed herself one peek of his naked backside as he bent over, and then another longer one, before forcing her gaze away. Her whole body shook from his fiery touch, heated to a level she had never thought possible. She held herself rigid, trying to focus on anything but him.

Unfortunately for her attempts at self-control, her gaze found the third corner. Nadja nervously closed her eyes. It was a low chair, much like an examination table, with stirrups for the feet and straps to hold them into place. A pillow sat on the floor, as if for kneeling. An open trunk of feathers and oils was behind it. She couldn’t see much else within the trunk but those two items were enough.

Looking at Olek, she found him watching her. He was again dressed as she had asked. He tilted his head to the chair in offering. She forcefully shook her head with a vehement, “No!”

“Your name,” he said.

Nadja took a deep breath. This was more like it. Now that he was more fully clothed they could have a civilized conversation. That is, if her head quit spinning, and her breasts ceased aching, and her eyes stopped trying to undress him from his loincloth. Nadja had met many princes, and his body wasn’t that of a pampered prince or nobleman. For this she was glad.

Wishing her words held more force, she said, “My name is Nadja Aleksander. I am pleased to meet you, Olek.”

Chapter 4

Nadja.

The name rolled pleasantly in Olek’s brain. It was a good name, a pretty name, a respectable name, and it suited the dignified beauty before him exceedingly well. As she gained control over herself, he was pleased to find her naturally soft spoken. Her unpretentious voice was low and sensual and coiled around him. It was a fine contrast to the harsher voices of his fellow Draig. It was a voice he would gladly spend his days and nights listening to. It was a voice he would love hearing moan out his name in passion. He found he wanted to ask her questions just to hear her answer them in her sultry tone.

He didn’t have to ask. Her lips parted and she spoke to him freely with a question of her own.

“Are you a farmer, or perhaps a miner?” Nadja asked, looking over his physique.

Olek was confused by the relevance of her question. He shook his head.

“Then, what do you do for a living?”

Olek smiled as he understood the reason for her question, but stayed quiet. He thought it was a sensible query, and admired it while still wishing her thinking wasn’t so logical. Closing his eyes, he imagined his tongue bathing in wine as he drank from her flushed skin. He almost groaned with the idea of it.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you can’t converse yet,” Nadja said with a frustrated sigh. “That makes this rather difficult, doesn’t it?”

Olek merely continued to smile at her. Marriage wasn’t supposed to be a light decision and he was glad she didn’t take it as such. Hm, maybe she would drink from his flesh. He wondered how those lips would feel wrapping around his arousal, sucking liquor from him with her wet mouth.

Nadja sighed louder, clearly unaware of his erotic thoughts. Biting her lips, she said, “All right, let’s try this another way. Are you a working man?”

Seeing her attention on his mouth, Olek let his tongue slide over the edge. Oh, but the distance between their flesh was driving him mad. His hips tensed. Maybe after she drank from him, he could get her to ride him hard like she was breaking in a wild ceffyl. He’d even let her tie him up if she wanted, completing the fantasy. He’d bet his crown those long legs of hers could restrain him.

“I’ll tell you right now, I want a working man. Are you one?” she insisted.

Olek stepped forward glancing over the subtle curves of her body. If his mind didn’t stop creating fantasies of her, he’d most likely attack. Her eyes narrowed in warning, holding him back with their blue force. She wasn’t finished.

“I won’t lie to you or try to trick you. I’ll work hard—by your side if I have to. I don’t have girlish notions of what this marriage should be about. I don’t expect us to be in love and I don’t expect you to tell me you love me. In fact, I would prefer it if you respected me enough not to try and placate me with such sentiments.”

Olek watched her quietly, not showing any emotion as he took in every word. Of course he would love her. Did she not see the evidence of their match glowing on his chest?

“I do expect loyalty and honesty,” Nadja continued, as if heartened by his patient listening. “And I’ll give you the same courtesy in return. I believe this could be a great partnership if we are both willing to do the work.”

When she paused, Olek nodded once, silently urging her to finish.

“I suppose you’ll want children?”

Olek didn’t like the practical, uniform way she said the words. He nodded in answer anyway. His eyes dipped to her slender hips and to the unfairly seductive pose they were in. Her legs were spread just enough that he could run his finger between her thighs to test the soft, wet cavern of her pussy. He tried not to groan.

“Fine,” Nadja agreed, appearing unnerved.

He realized he was eyeing her like he wanted to try procreating at that very moment—which was actually pretty accurate.

“I shouldn’t mind children…in time. But, not right away.”

Again, Olek nodded. What did he care? He wasn’t thinking of children, just practicing the making of them. He knew nothing could come of his desire tonight. Because of Draig tradition, climax couldn’t be reached on the wedding night. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t play. Besides, he was a glutton for punishment and he would gladly spend the night torturing them both.

“As to,” Nadja paused unable to hide her blush, as she motioned to the bed. “As to us being together, I think we should wait until we are better acquainted.”

Olek frowned, his jaw lifting in surprise. His cock tightened in instant protest at the idea of denial. Subtly sniffing the air, he smelled the lingering hints of her desire for him. If he was forced to smell that every day, there was no way he was going to wait to claim her. He would go mad. He might be a man of refinement and infinite patience, but even a saint would crumble under such torture.

“I’m not saying I won’t marry you. I just don’t want to, ah, to, um, to copulate just yet,” Nadja explained. “Besides, if we are to have children later, then there is no need to do it now.”

Olek’s frown deepened. His arms crossed over his chest. He really hoped she was finished talking. He couldn’t take much more of her nervous logic. Already, he could tell she was inexperienced in the ways of men and assumed that is why her words were so frustratingly clinical.

“So, those are my terms. If you agree to them, step forward and I’ll remove the mask. If not, stay there and I’ll be happy to leave,” Nadja finished.

Olek didn’t need time to decide. He’d known his answer since she stepped off the ship. He took a confident step forward and then another. His arms stayed crossed, but his eyes eagerly devoured her reaction.

He didn’t like her last stipulation. But, as he saw the glaring loophole in her demands, he decided to accept it. He would just have to torture her until she begged him for his…copulation.

“Oh,” Nadja whispered breathlessly when he stopped before her. He stood proud and unmoving. “All right, you’ve decided already.”

“Choose,” he commanded.

“You’re sure then?” Nadja studied the parts of the man’s face she could see. Relief flooded her when he nodded his head. He agreed to her terms. Whatever he may be, at least he wasn’t a prince. Her fingers shook as she reached out to touch the leather mask. Inhaling slowly, she untied the straps at the side. Her hands brushed his braided hair and she paused. “This is what you want?”

Olek’s dark eyes glistened like the surface of glassy water, hiding a deceptively deep undercurrent below. Only then did she fully register the soft glow of the crystal hanging from his neck. It seemed to get brighter the closer her arm came to it.

“Choose,” he insisted.

“All right, Olek,” Nadja said. Finishing the task, she pulled the strings apart. The white glow of the crystal reflected off her hands. The mask slid to the side unveiling a face more handsome than she could have pictured in her mind. His nose was strong and straight. His brow was the sculptured perfection of a man well made. He had the high, proud cheekbones of his people, but his deep-set eyes were what captured her the most. “I choose you.”

Olek’s mouth curled with mischief. The mask dropped from her fingers at the look before she could even draw her hands away. It fell against his shoulder before sliding to the floor.

“Hi,” Nadja murmured weakly. She tried to smile and failed miserably.

“Hello, Nadja.” Olek lifted his hand to cup her cheek. His voice was strong and so confident in his rolling Qurilixian accent. It sent shivers over her skin.

“I think tradition says we have to talk,” she said, trying to act poised. She attempted to pull away but her body refused to move. Her treacherous flesh wanted to find out more about his touches and heated looks. Inside, her stomach tensed with the knowledge of what she had done. In one little act, she had married herself to a complete—albeit incredibly handsome—stranger.

“No,” Olek corrected. “Tradition is that we must discover each other.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a nod. “Talk.”

“No, discover,” he corrected.

“So we talk,” Nadja wasn’t sure she liked the suddenly dominant expression. His gaze sizzled like molten lava, a piercing fire that curled her toes and made her sex ache. The intensity of his eyes was the same as having a thousand fingers touching her skin at once.

“Discover.”

“As in converse.”

“It is good you have an interest in Draig ways for they are now your ways too, but this is my people’s tradition, Nadja.” Olek leaned forward, towering over her. “I think I know what it is. We are to discover each other. We are to learn each other. We are to reveal ourselves completely.”

Being considered tall, Nadja wasn’t used to being towered over. Nor was she used to a man standing so close. Olek’s gaze dipped over her dress, consuming her with his desires.

Nadja stiffened, realizing she’d misinterpreted the custom. The Galaxy Brides’ upload had led her to believe they’d be talking during this stage. Olek didn’t look like he wanted to talk.

She was in for a long night of trouble.

“My king,” a towheaded soldier said, as he walked a path through the colossal trees. The torchlight did not reach this far into the forest, but the moon shone brightly through the overhead branches to illuminate the way with misshapen specks of light. Even without the aid of moonlight, he did not need light to see in the dark. Shifter eyes could cut through the black with ease.

His blond king stepped forward from the shadows. The soldier stuck his hand over his heart and bowed. He was dressed as a Draig servant, although he was anything but. He glanced around to ensure he had not been followed—not that the dragon-shifting Draig were any match for his cat-shifter cunning.

“Well?” King Attor demanded. The king’s eyes gave chills to those who obeyed him, for they knew what he was capable of doing. By looking at his face, it was impossible to determine his age. His body was young and healthy. His eyes appeared as old as the stars. And his capacity to illicit fear in those who disobeyed? Well, that was one trait this soldier never wanted to test the limits of.

“All the princes have found brides.”

“Very good,” King Attor answered, smiling a cruel smile. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Finally. I have waited so long for this day.”

“My king?” the soldier asked, confused.

“I promised myself long ago that I would see to the end of this royal family. They will know the pain of a broken heart and the foolishness of mating to one woman.”

“Yes.” The soldier’s word lacked conviction. Such a statement was unlike King Attor. The man rarely gave credence to emotions.

Narrowing his eyes, as if remembering the man was there, the king stated, “Let us wait until they are bonded completely. Only then can we assure the end of their line. Once those Draigs lose their mates they will be finished. The new princesses will die, starting with the oldest son’s bride. The line of the Draig rule will be ended one by one and the Var will once more be the only force in this land. King Llyr and Queen Mede will watch everything they’ve built crumble into ashen death.”

The warrior smiled.

“Before this is over, the Draig will bow to me as my slaves.” The king rolled his neck on his shoulders as he shifted into a more natural form. Fur grew to cover his face and body, and claws formed on his hands. His mouth elongated, gnashing with sharpened fangs. When he looked back it was through the eyes of a wild cat. His voice crackled in low, deliberate tones in the back of his throat, as he ordered his spy, “Go.”

The king ran swiftly into the forest, disappearing completely as he blurred into the trees.

Chapter 5

“Stay back,” Nadja warned, holding up her hand as if that one feeble gesture would fend off her new husband’s seduction. “You don’t have to do this, Olek. I am pleased by you, very pleased.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Olek smirked, his expression radiating with confidence.

Now that the mask was off, Nadja could see that his green eyes held much humor in their depths. Was he laughing at her?

Olek let his gaze travel over the length of her, uninhibited. “But I wish to see if I am as pleased by you. Take off that gown. I want to look at you.”

Nadja glanced at the mask, wishing she could put it back on. This man was too handsome for her. Whatever had possessed her to consider him? She wanted a fat, short, old doctor with a sweet temperament and little sexual prowess. She looked at Olek’s hips and swallowed nervously. Very little sexual prowess. Why ever did she suddenly raise her standards to young and virile? She must have been temporarily insane to marry this man.

It was all that wine I drank at dinner, she determined. The crystal amulet pulsed, causing a wave of emotion to flood her system. And that damned rock!

“No, you agreed,” Nadja stammered, clutching her gown to her chest.

“I agreed that there would be no copulation, wife.” Olek grinned meaningfully. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t finish this night as it was meant to be finished. Or do you wish for me to call the council elders for clarification?”

Nadja considered his words, but knew she would be too embarrassed to ask the council elders about anything having to do with copulation. What was her other alternative? She didn’t want to go back and explain to Galaxy Brides that she was breaking her contract because she refused to take her clothes off. It’s not like she’d informed them of any religious justification for not being naked in front of a husband, and it was really easy to check if her name was on the Terbil sect’s registry.

No, this planet was perfect. Olek might not have been what she expected in a husband, but nothing else had changed. Nadja couldn’t risk her father finding her. If she thought his temper was bad before, she could imagine the kind of punishment he would have in store for her for running away. She was well aware of what Doc Aleksander was capable of. Apprehensively, she asked, “You just want to look? That’s all?”

Olek nodded. “Yes, for now, let me look.”

“You won’t touch me?” Nadja tried to take a calming breath. She couldn’t believe she was considering this. No one had ever seen her naked, save for the beauty droids who had pampered her—and they never cared. She thought of her alternatives and steeled her nerves. She had to do it.

“Not until you touch me first,” he promised.

Nadja nodded, somewhat relieved. That shouldn’t be so hard. She had no intention of touching him. But, as his eyes lit with challenge and mischief, she grew worried. What did this barbarian have in mind?

“No tricks?” Nadja persisted, trying to stall.

“Would you like me to help you undress?” he offered, with a confidence that made her knees weak.

Nadja’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead, she furiously shook her head in denial. Hesitant, she looked around. “Where? Here?”

“Anywhere you wish.” Olek didn’t relent and he didn’t back away.

Nadja took a step back, again glancing around. “Can…I need a drink.” She went to the food table. “Would you like something?”

“Trying to get me drunk?” Olek slowly followed her.

Nadja blushed, proving that she had in fact considered it.

“Qurilixian males don’t get intoxicated with this wine.” Olek lifted a finger as if he would touch her neck, but then drew back, as if remembering his promise not to touch her until she touched him. “We are immune.”

“So you just get the girls drunk.” Nadja tried to laugh. His darkening look made it come out in a short, soundless chuckle. “Sorry.”

“Why are you so nervous? I am your husband. You have no reason for this embarrassment. The whole purpose of our customs is to do away with doubt. We trust in the powers around us to know our path and reveal it to us.”

Nadja gulped down a goblet of wine before coughing. “Yes, but you are also a stranger. I only saw you for the first time a few hours ago. Now we’re expected to act like we’ve known each other for years.”

Olek lifted the crystal about his neck. He twirled the glowing orb in his fingers. “But this proves we were meant to be. That is why we have these ceremonies, so there will be no walls. We trust in the power of the gods to guide us.”

Nadja swallowed nervously, not liking all this talk of destiny and fate. It was hardly scientific or logical. “So, is it true you have always had those? Since the day you were born?”

“It is.”

“And has it always pulsed like that?” Nadja took another drink. As if to prove her point, the crystal pulsed brightly sending a wave of sweet agony through her body, stirring a mad rush of ache and need inside her lower stomach.

“No, only tonight, when I first saw you come to me,” Olek whispered. Taking the crystal, he touched it lightly to her skin. A fire ignited on her flesh where he drew lazy circles along the base of her neck. “That was when the crystal first came to life.”

“So, it reacts to the moonlight?” Nadja probed, her eye lids fluttering. She felt the crystal’s power pulling her toward Olek’s body, numbing her mind to everything but this handsome warrior.

“It reacts to what is naturally between us. It shows us the will of our hearts.”

His lips pursed as if he expected her to kiss him. Instead, Nadja stiffened and pulled away. Her reaction to his admission clearly wasn’t what he expected.

A frown marred her brow. “I told you. I don’t love you and I don’t expect you to love me. I will be practical about this.”

“Nadja,” he whispered. “Why are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid—”

“You promised honesty,” Olek interrupted. “I can smell your lie on you.”

“I…” Nadja took another drink, stopping only to glance at him. Did he just say he smelled it on her? She blinked hard. She should probably stop drinking now. Turning away from him, she took yet another swallow.

Olek tilted the edge of her goblet down and took it from her without touching her hand. She jerked in unease.

“It’s time, Nadja.”

“Time?”

Olek’s eyes dipped down over the traditional silk gown, leisurely consuming her with his hungry gaze. By the time he finished his heated inspection she was trembling uncontrollably. “Can you at least turn off the lights?” Nadja twisted her hands in front of her.

“There is no point, little solarflower.” He gave a tiny, playful arch of his brow. “I can see in the dark. Now, come.”

Olek’s eyes beckoned her to follow him to the center of the room. Nadja obeyed, coming before him. He lifted his hand above her hair, drawing it next to her face without making contact. She closed her eyes, feeling his heat but not his skin. He moved over her neck and chest, down over her stomach and back up again. When he stopped, she opened her eyes, amazed that she could feel so much without even being touched.

In a low murmur that sent chills over her, he said, “You are so beautiful. There is no need for shame. Take off your gown for me.”

The heady effects of the liquor eased the tension from her muscles. Seeing the look in his eyes, a passionate spark that was all for her, she couldn’t refuse him. First, she kicked off her slippers and her toes dug into the softness of the fur. Next, she slowly lifted her hand to her side. Nadja studied his expression as she moved. Tugging at the silk bodice, she pulled the strapless top down. Instantly a breast was freed. His nostrils flared slightly, but he didn’t look down. The crystal pulsated its spell between them.

Freeing the other breast, she slowly pushed the gown to her waist. She hesitated. The tent was warm, but the heat radiating off her new husband was stronger. Her back became chilled by comparison. His eyes seemed to lighten, flecked with a golden hue. She blinked and the subtle shift of color was gone. She dismissed it as a reflection of the torchlight.

“Finish,” Olek whispered, urging her on. The word caused her to shiver.

She nodded weakly and pushed down the gown off her hips. Soon she was standing before him clad in only her lace panties.

Olek, keeping his gaze steady, took a step back from her. As he put distance between them, he let his eyes travel down. He couldn’t speak. The breath caught in his throat. She was in perfect shape. Her toned muscles had just enough female softness to the curves as not to make her look hard. Her flat stomach pulled against her hip bones, creating a delightfully erotic tease as the lace clung to her hips. He had already seen her slender arms and most of her legs, but they too added to the wistful, wood-sprite image before him.

Oh, this night is going to be sweet torment, Olek thought, part in anticipation and part in agony.

It would be good to get her shyness out of the way. He didn’t want his wife afraid of him. He would prove to her that he could be trusted with her body, as well as her spirit and her heart. He forced a deep breath, trying to be patient. They had all night for this and a lifetime for everything else.

By her insistent words, he might be waiting a very, very long time to lay claim. Gods help him if that were the case. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through the ceremony, let alone longer.

How could she know the many years he had waited for her? He’d had blurred dreams of her since he was a boy. It wasn’t just fate that brought her to him. It was destiny. Even if she didn’t believe it, he did. And he knew it to be true, as did all his people. It was the dragon-shifter way.

Observing the length of her legs, from her small ankles all the way up to her hips, he felt his body quake. These were legs that would easily wrap around a man and hold him inside her.

“Am…?” Nadja didn’t finish.

Olek looked up, and she turned her face from him. Her cheeks had colored to the brightest of embarrassed pinks. The cascading curls of her soft brown hair spilled over her shoulders, sliding forward to hide a delectable breast from view.

“You’re lovely, solarflower.” His voice was hoarse with desire. “Now, take off the rest.”

Nadja didn’t look at him. Her hands shook as she pulled her panties from her hips and kicked them off to the side, baring herself completely.

Olek sucked in a breath. Her mound was covered in a thin trail of hair. His lips parted, wanting a taste. Beneath his fur loincloth he became hard with arousal.

Nadja stiffened as he stepped around her, careful to keep a distance between them as he looked. Olek paused when he saw a mark on a firm cheek of her ass.

“What is this?” he mused, leaning slightly closer to get a better look of the black symbol. He didn’t recognize the meaning of the marking.

“Oh,” Nadja turned, stretching around to look at the swirling design as if she’d forgotten it was there. “It’s just a tattoo. I got it a long time ago.”

Olek frowned. She didn’t appear to be lying, but he could tell there was more to it than she let on. He continued around, but she was still twisted to look at her back hip.

“Nadja, look at me.”

She did, her eyes sweeping forward to peek through the veil of her lashes.

“Look,” Olek insisted. She turned her face more fully to study him, though her head was still dipped. “I want you to see what you do to me.”

Nadja was too stunned to move. Did all men speak this boldly? Where all men as confident with women? Or was it just husbands to their wives? Although, she had to admire his obvious restraint in not ripping her clothes from her when she hesitated, or getting angry when she didn’t obey. However, on the other side of the coin, the fact he needed to restrain himself at all worried her.

Nadja absently rubbed at the tattoo, an old habit. She used to imagine if she rubbed it often enough it would wear off. She’d had the mark for so long that she had forgotten it was there. She hated it. The symbol was the brand of the Medical Alliance, essentially marking her as their property. She’d been too frightened to have the Galaxy Brides’ medical services remove it for fear the mark would be reported.

Until the night her father announced her engagement at a dinner party, she had never even been approached by a man. The news had come as a surprise and a horror. Hank had given her an engagement ring with a very inappropriate gift. She had been mortified and ran away—much to the disgusting pig’s pleasure. Standing here now, looking at Olek’s perfect form, she couldn’t imagine a life with Hank. Being married to a simple man was looking better and better each passing moment.

Olek removed the fur from his waist. There was still distance between their bodies, so even if he wanted to he couldn’t reach her without walking toward her. Dropping the loincloth to the floor, he stood proudly. “See what looking at you does to my body?”

Nadja could hardly breathe, but she couldn’t look away from his magnetic eyes. This man was going to think her natural skin tone was pink if she didn’t get control over her embarrassment. Her voice wouldn’t work if she tried. But Olek’s gaze only held molten appreciation and she didn’t shy away. His approval empowered her on a baser level, giving her a confidence she had never felt.

Nadja glanced down to look. His desires terrified her as much as they fascinated her. The long length of him had sprung to full attention. Veins grew out on the sides, forcing his erection to stand tall.

She was a doctor’s daughter, so the technical part of how they fit together she had known about for years. And, sure, she had tried a few hesitant things while alone in the dark, but she was always too scared to do much else. That damned unit reported everything—even a small piece of chocolate she once ate against dietary orders. It had been delicious and almost worth the three days of punishment she had received, though she had never tried one again. Olek was definitely more than a small piece of chocolate, and the threat of punishment was so ingrained that she almost ran and hid from him.

Technically, their bodies might be made to join. But as to the reality? She didn’t see how this could possibly work.

“Olek.” Nadja shook her head in denial. It was odd standing so before a man. “Please, don’t—”

“Shh.” He didn’t allow her to finish. “You are mine. That is the end of it.”

Nadja looked into his passionate eyes and was lost. Wine swam warmly in her veins, causing her to relax as she let her husband and his mystical crystal work their magic over her. Yes, she was definitely his.

“What do you think they are like?” Queen Mede directed her thoughts to her husband so he would hear her words in his mind. Such was the way between married dragon-shifters. Joy filled her as she thought of her sons and nephews. Almost all of them had found brides and they waited for word that the brides had entered the tents.

King Llyr chuckled and said aloud, “I expect they are like women.”

The queen arched a brow at her husband. Around them the celebration raged. They sat on a raised platform overseeing the festivities, as was royal tradition. “Do you think they will be genteel like my mother?”

“Lady Grace was a rare creature,” the king said. “I don’t know how anyone in the universe could be as good and charitable as your mother was.”

“So then you think they will be like me when I was young?” Queen Mede let her eyes shift with mischief.

“Mm.” The king refused to answer more.

“Mm?” The queen arched a brow.

“You are still young, my beautiful dragon,” he said diplomatically, refusing to comment on her wild past.

Over seventy years later, Mede still loved her husband very much. Time had not altered that fact for either of them. Llyr still looked at her like he had on the night they married, and she imagined he still would over the hundreds of years they had left together.

“Times are very different, aren’t they?” Mede looked around at the lively festival. Their people were enjoying themselves immensely and she imagined anyone looking in would never have guessed this celebration was tame compared to the celebrations of old. “Your father used to give the wildest speeches at these events and no one worried about border patrols and extra security.”

“Tell me, Medellyn, what is it?” Llyr waved a servant away when the man tried to approach the thrones with goblets of mead. “Why are your eyes sad when we have so much to be thankful for tonight?”

“I always feared that when this night came King Attor would come back here and try to finish what he started the night we married.”

“That is not your fault.” Llyr brushed his hand over her cheek. “I have already ordered the patrols to keep an eye on the princes and noblemen tonight. Nothing will happen to them. The Var king knows better than to come back here.” Then, playfully brushing his nose to hers, he whispered, “And if he tries, I’ll unleash your temper on him, my fiery wife. So help the man who tries to harm a dragon mother’s family.”

Chapter 6

Olek waited patiently and tried not to laugh. Nadja stared at his arousal for an abnormally long time. Slowly, she blinked, glancing up to the tight expression on his face. He fought for control, but it was very hard not to reach for his bride.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me until I touched you,” Nadja reminded him.

“I am not going to touch you,” Olek said with a roguish smirk. He licked his lips in anticipation. “You are going to touch yourself for me.”

“I…” Nadja swallowed nervously. “Olek, I can’t do that. I’m not—”

“Yes,” he broke in. “You can.”

“No, I…” Nadja’s cheeks deepened in color. He wouldn’t have thought it possible. “I don’t know how.”

That brought him up short. Tilting his head to better study her, he asked, “How is that possible? You are no child.”

Olek waited a long time for her to answer. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide herself from him.

“My father,” Nadja finally said. “He—we had this medic unit. It would measure my, ah, levels each morning. I couldn’t even eat chocolate without him finding out. And, well, if I was to, you know, it would tell him everything in my daily report.”

Olek frowned.

“They were very thorough machines.” She closed her eyes, as if hoping the ground would open up and suck her in. Her fists clenched at her sides.

“I know it is unlikely that I will ever have daughters, but I don’t imagine I would control them in such a way. My people believe that children are to be guided and molded by the extended family unit, allowed explore and discover, allowed to make mistakes. How else will they learn?”

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said softly. “I should have said something about this before. I really don’t know anything when it comes to…and I understand if you want to put your mask back on. I won’t tell anyone I took it off.”

Olek didn’t readily answer. He was too busy thinking of what he would say to her father for treating her so callously. He wasn’t an idiot. There was much more to her strict upbringing than his bride was telling him. Not everyone in the universes was lucky enough to have his home life.

Nadja began reaching for the mask to give it back to him. His words stopped her.

“You are no longer under his tyranny, solarflower,” Olek said, finding his pet name for her very suitable. She was delicate, like a flower. “If you wish to know something about your body or mine, ask. I’ll freely tell you or show you everything I know. Every passion you feel is normal and very right. I feel the same for you.”

She brought her hand back to her side and faced him.

“Now, it would give me much pleasure if you would touch yourself.” Olek’s eyes bore heatedly into hers. “And it will give me even greater pleasure when you touch me.”

Nadja shivered.

“Like this,” he urged. Taking himself in hand, he stroked his hard cock several times. Nadja bit her lip and her eyes followed the movements of his fingers. The crystal pulsed and glowed from his chest. Her fingers moved over her stomach, scratching lightly at her flesh as if absently mimicking his movements over his shaft.

Olek nodded in approval, urging her silently to continue. With a weak pant, she slid her finger into her wetness. Watching him, she timidly stroked herself. Her legs twitched. Her hips jerked in a little circle. Her fingers spread her sex open.

Olek stroked faster as his eyes devoured the movements her hand. If he wasn’t careful, he would explode.

With a moan, she went to him as if unmindful of all her previous protests.

Olek grinned, unable to help the playfully naughty look he gave her. It hadn’t taken her long at all to come around. The fact pleased him very much.

Nadja hesitated only briefly as she looked at his hand wrapped around his erection. Her fingers had stirred her natural scent into the air. Letting go, he moved it to the side to give her access. Nadja licked her lips, glancing up at him for approval before she touched him. Olek nodded weakly. He was sure he would go mad from the sexual torment.

Her chest heaving with exited breaths as she took his solid length in her hand. Olek’s hips jerked a little at the tender assault. Nadja pulled back, appearing concerned that she may have done him harm. He imagined he might actually look like he was in pain as he tried not to come. Putting his hand over hers, he brought her hand to him once more and showed her she could squeeze and not hurt him.

The moment she fully stroked his manhood with her fingers, Olek turned her and drove her back toward the bed. His hands instantly explored her back, her arms, her neck and hair. His mouth lowered to claim hers in a mind-searing kiss that left them both breathless and faint. His lips sucked her tongue into his mouth so that he may taste her.

A moment of panic overtook her and she stiffened as if to pull away when his erection sought to be closer to her sex. He gave her little time to protest as he brought himself next to her. His body crushed into hers, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over him. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, the nipples budding attesting to her newfound desires. He rubbed his cock along the front of her hip near the apex of her thighs. Her legs clenched slightly.

She let go of his cock to explore the rest of him. Her touch was a curious mixture of desperation and innocence, which only drove him to greater distraction. Olek was not as unsure as his hands ventured over her, stroking and teasing every tender piece of flesh he could reach.

“Olek,” Nadja groaned,

“Shh,” Olek knew he had to slow down. If he pressed matters too much more he would become a rutting beast. Her hands followed his lead, stopping their exploration as they came to rest on his chest. He absently stroked the small of her back. His heartbeat raced beneath her hand, matching the frantic rhythm of the pulse he saw pounding against her neck.

“You stopped. Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“No, you did everything very right. But, we cannot finish joining this night. It’s forbidden.”

She nodded once and he wasn’t sure if it was relief or anguish that she was feeling.

“Tonight is for discovery only—discovery of self, of passion, of each other.” His breath came hard. She stiffened when he cupped her breast. Knowing she couldn’t help her body’s natural responses, he smiled. “Lie back on the bed.”

“But, you said—”

“We cannot finish this, little solarflower, but I am not finished exploring you. Lie down.” Olek tilted his head toward the mattress.

Nadja, legs wobbling, nodded and stepped up the raised platform before crawling on the bed. Lying down, she placed her hands on her stomach and waited. Olek stepped away to grab a bottle of oil not bothering to dress.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I am going to let you get used to my touch, solarflower,” Olek answered with a playful wink.

Nadja held her breath as he rubbed oil between his fingers. Starting at her feet, he began massaging the arch. Nadja tensed, giggling. Her foot jerked.

“Hold still.”

“I-I can’t,” she giggled louder, jerking again. “I’m ticklish.”

Olek smiled and deepened his touch. Soon, her foot became used to the attention and her laughing expression turned more serious.

“There,” he soothed, “just relax.”

She jolted when he touched the other foot, but soon the intoxicatingly erotic scent of oil was flooding their senses and his hands were working magic on her feet. He moved over one calf then the other, taking his time as he touched her. Nadja didn’t move, closing her eyes and just feeling. He slid his gentle hands over her knees with aching tenderness. She tensed as he came up her thigh, but soon the power that was between them relaxed her once more.

Olek groaned, letting his eyes take in the wet beckoning of her center fire. The oil glistened on her skin. His fingers flowed over soft, smooth flesh, itching to slide higher, right into her. He held back, moving to massage her other thigh. To his pleasure, she didn’t tense again.

Skipping her middle, he massaged her hands and arms in turn. Then, he ordered her to turn onto her stomach. She didn’t see his look of intense pleasure as his eyes laid claim to her pert ass. He gave the backs of her legs to the same treatment he had given the front, before going on to her shoulders, neck and back. As he worked his way lower, he moved to straddle her. His lips parted, and he wanted to take a playful bite out of her flesh. He denied his mouth, but not his hands.

With a staggered breath, he cupped her buttocks. A moan escaped Nadja, weak in her relaxed state. His thumbs dipped to edge closer to her aroused center.

“Turn,” he said huskily. Olek lifted himself up, still straddling her as she moved.

Nadja was weak, but she obeyed.

His hands renewed their journey at her neck, sliding between her breasts to her stomach. He touched her hips, her sides, working his way to the center peaks of her breasts. Her back arched and he took the soft globes fully into his palms. The oil made his caresses all the more pleasurable. Unable to deny his mouth again, he leaned over and sucked a nipple between his lips.

Nadja bucked off the bed as if lightning had struck her soul. Olek growled in pleasure, tasting her, biting gently, reveling in her natural response. The other breast received the same treatment from his hand, pinching and caressing.

“Ah-h,” Nadja gasped for breath. She grasped at his hair. Before he knew what was happening, his legs were parting hers. Oil slid between them, helping him glide forward between her thighs. His solid erection came to her, insistent that it get its fair share of her pleasure. He felt her heat beckoning him with its moist offering.

“Olek,” Nadja called out, trembling violently at the feel of his hard mass by her tender opening.

Olek stopped, hearing her cry. Taking a deep breath, he knew he couldn’t take her. If the others sensed their fulfillment tomorrow, as they went to crush the crystal before the council, all would be lost. Their marriage wouldn’t be approved and he would have to spend the rest of his days alone.

“I’m sorry, solarflower,” Olek grunted as he withdrew. It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done. “We mustn’t.”

“I know,” she whispered, the tone revealing the depths of her disappointment.

“Just give me a moment.” Olek panted to catch his breath. He turned from her, running his fingers into his hair as he waited out the worst of his denied passions. All it would take was one stroke and he’d come hard. Release was so close and would feel so good. Normally he would think nothing of finishing himself off, but it would be wrong for him to find pleasure while denying her. When he could again move, he looked over. Nadja had fallen asleep. He almost laughed.

With a sigh, he lifted her up into his arms. She blinked, trying to wake up and he shushed her back to sleep. He knew it had been a long night for her. Easing her under the covers, he couldn’t help taking one last look of her flushed body in the gentle torchlight.

He dimmed the torches, putting some of them out to darken the tent. Then, shaking his head, he laid next to her on top of the covers, careful not to touch her body with his overheated one. Sleep wasn’t even close to claiming him. This was going to be an extremely long night.

Chapter 7

Nadja blinked rapidly, coming awake with rough jolt of awareness. A cold sweat beaded her flesh. She shot up in bed. All around her was darkness. She felt around, and her hands met with the fur coverlet. She was naked underneath.

She closed her lids tight, rubbing them as she tried to clear her vision to see through the darkness. Her horrified, sleep-hazed eyes franticly searched for her father or his men in the dark shadows of the tent. Her mind screamed at her, yelling that he would know what she’d done, that she let this barbarian touch her, that it had given her pleasure to have him touch her. He’d put her in punishment for a month this time. She’d never survive a whole month, deprived of sleep, of light and fresh air, of food. This time, her father might actually kill her.

Her eyes adjusted to the dimness. The only sound she heard was the wild beat of her own heart in her ears. By small degrees, the fog of sleep lifted, and she realized he couldn’t possibly have found her. She took a deep breath, looking over to where Olek slept near her side. She was safe. This was home. This was safe.

A strange sense of comfort overtook her fear. Here was a simple, giving man. She told herself she could trust him to take care of her. They would go to his little cottage somewhere, where they could live a life away from the limelight. She didn’t have to live in fear anymore. There was no way her father would find her—unlike marrying a nobleman whose picture could be published in any number of ways, whose name would be carried in connection with hers across the galaxy.

On a planet like Qurilixen they would never have heard her father’s name, or known his untouchable reputation. She would have changed her name before now, but there hadn’t been enough time to fake her Galactic Identification. She would change it now, she decided. She would take Olek’s name as her own, whatever it was. She would never have to utter the word Aleksander again.

With Olek she had done well. He would never know who she was. Her past ended at this very moment. She wouldn’t spend her life looking over her shoulder, waiting in fear. Olek was strong. He would keep her safe. He was perfect.

Nestling down next to him on the bed, she pulled the covers over her body and gently moved to touch his cheek. Her new husband didn’t move, merely sighed. Nadja drew her hand away from him. As she closed her eyes, she thought, yes, we will have that simple life. And Nadja Aleksander will vanish—forever.

Olek felt his wife sit up as she jolted awake. He didn’t move as she looked around the room. His tired mind kept with her, relaxing as she snuggled back down. It was only a nightmare that disturbed her slumber. He tried not to smile as she touched his cheek in a gentle caress. Soon, he detected her breath deepening, as she drifted into a more peaceful sleep. Whatever it had been, he hoped her nightmares were over.

A tired smile crossed over his features. Once they finished the ceremony and he took her back to their home, he would see to it that they weren’t disturbed until evening—perhaps the rest of the week. He had plans for his little solarflower.

Nadja yawned, smiling slightly as she refused to open her eyes. It had been a good night, her best since discovering her father’s engagement plans for her. Stretching her arms, she met with the empty bed.

The tent was bright, lit up from the outside. Taking a deep breath, she tried to tell herself that it was real. She was safe and she was free. A smile graced her lips as she sat up. Olek was gone. It didn’t matter. She had studied their tradition and knew that he would honor their marriage no matter what. Guiltily, she thought of her father.

No, she told herself. Olek will never have to deal with him. It’s all in the past and we will make our own future. He’ll never have to know what I have done. I am not Nadja Aleksander anymore. I am simply Nadja. I am a solarflower.

She found she liked his pet name for her.

Glancing around, she saw a stack of neatly folded clothes at the end of the bed. She yawned for good measure before reaching out to grab them and realized she was still naked. The long dress was more formal and definitely more concealing than her crumpled wedding tunic on the floor. It had an undertunic that fitted tighter to her skin as she slipped the soft cream-colored linen over her head. It fit her perfectly, as if it had been made for her.

Next, she grabbed the overtunic. It was more like a long green jacket, sliding over her arms and latching in the front with a little silver clasp at her waist. The front skirt fell open, revealing the cream underneath. The undertunic peaked out at her neck and wrists. Looking down, she wished she had a mirror. The dress was absolutely the most beautiful thing that she had ever owned—better than all the diamonds and jewels her father had given her. She hoped it hadn’t cost her husband too much. She wouldn’t want to drain their expenses by being frivolous. But, twirling, she grinned despite the concern. She loved it.

Spying the table set with chocolate, she bit her lip and glanced around. No one was there to stop her. There was no medic unit to climb into. And surely Olek had meant them for her. Just one wouldn’t hurt anything.

Excited, Nadja went to the table and picked up a chocolate. She swallowed, almost nervously, before biting into it. The taste exploded in her mouth and she was hooked. Chewing furiously, she swallowed, and then grabbed another. Before she thought to stop, she had eaten her way through the entire plate.

She smacked her lips in embarrassment, but couldn’t help the contented grin that spread over her features. She licked her fingers in a very unladylike fashion.

Leaning back, she looked closely at her wrist. She saw that silver embroidery edged the gown with little flowers. On the side of her chest, right above her heart, was the emblem of a dragon. She grinned as she thought of how Olek’s eyes looked like a dragon’s the night before.

“I did indeed marry a dragon,” she mused quietly.

“Sorry?”

Nadja turned, blushing at Olek who stood by the tent flap. Her breath caught in her throat. He too was more dressed, in black breeches that molded perfectly to his calves and thighs. On his feet he wore black boots. His tunic was green, matching hers, though the silver dragon on his chest was much bigger. Nadja couldn’t help thinking it was because his chest was so much larger.

“Nothing,” she murmured, not wanting to admit what she had been thinking about. He would think her a foolish romantic if she repeated it. She stood up from the table, sheepishly wiping her mouth on the back of her hand to make sure she didn’t have chocolate on her face. “I was just talking to myself.”

Olek grinned. Nadja’s heart quickened at the expression. In that moment, she could see herself being truly happy with Olek. There was such goodness to him, a kindness that radiated from his easy smile.

Coming forward, Olek glanced first at her face and then down at the empty tray. “Hungry?”

Nadja let her lashes dip over her eyes. “I couldn’t resist. I’ve only had chocolate one time and it was the tiniest little piece. I promise I won’t overdo it again.”

“Do it as often and as much as you wish,” Olek said benevolently. “I’ll just have to keep you busy enough so that you don’t grow unhealthy from the indulgence.”

Nadja could begin to guess what he meant by “busy”. It was there in his molten green eyes that shone like the shimmering of light reflecting on water. She felt on fire, and yet as if she were drowning, overwhelmed by this man and his passions.

“I would like a taste.” He bent over her, leaning to lick a chocolate smudge from the corner of her mouth. Nadja shivered, momentarily closing her eyes at the warm contact. Whispering against her lips, he said, “Mmm, delicious.”

Nadja exhaled loudly. “So, you still want to stay married?”

“Silly solarflower,” Olek responded. His fingers smoothed her hair. Nadja held still, content to let him. Her locks were still tousled from sleep. He took the softly glowing crystal from his neck and held it up for her to see. “I give this to you.” He handed it over to her. “Come, we must take it to the council and declare that it is our will to remain together. Once you break the crystal, it can never be undone, not in death or separation. We will become one being.”

Nadja swallowed nervously at the finality of that statement.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Taking a deep breath she again wiped at her mouth to see if she had missed any more chocolate, then asked the very feminine question, “How do I look?”

“Like a solarflower.” He kissed the tip of her nose. Nadja smiled. “All right, Olek, what exactly do I need to do?”

Chapter 8

Nadja gazed up at Qurilixen’s sky. She couldn’t recall a time when she had seen three suns over a planet at the same time, let alone when one of those suns actually looked blue. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness.

“This way,” Olek whispered with a gentle push at her lower back when she stopped walking. She glanced at him and he winked at her. She did her best to keep from grinning like a fool.

Only fifteen minutes had passed from the time he had arrived back at the tent to retrieve her until she found herself standing on the edge of a stage before the Draig council of elders. The councilmen stood around crowned royalty on thrones. The king and queen wore a matching regal shade of purple.

Nadja’s stomach tightened and she felt a bit queasy. Assuming it was just nerves, she tried to ignore it. The sooner she finished this part, the sooner she would be out of the public eye forever. She glanced around the crowd, automatically looking for one of the men from her father’s security detail hidden in the faces. She recognized no one from her old life.

Let them have their thrones, she thought, again turning toward the king and queen. She naturally leaned closer to where Olek stood. He took her hand in his. I want my simple life.

Nadja drew strength from his strong presence. She was almost too excited to stop and wonder why such a man was willing to declare to his whole planet that he chose her—that she was his alone. She felt wanted, worthy. The new rush of feelings made her confident and she stood taller.

“Queen Mede, King Llyr. May I present Lady Nadja Aleksander of the Earthen people.” As Olek introduced her he dropped her hand and then gave a formal bow. Nadja gave another peek behind her at the mention of her name. No one seemed to care who she was. She curtsied as Olek had shown her. The royal couple’s smiles widened as Olek again took her hand. They nodded in approval. Nadja noticed how the light from the suns made everyone’s gaze look as if they shifted with gold. Had she not known about the suns, the shimmering effect might have frightened her.

Olek nodded to where she clutched his crystal in her fist. She smiled. Dropping it on the ground, she stomped it with her heel. Instantly, she felt a little dizzy, as if coming out from under a spell. A fog lifted from her senses. Her head began to ache and her stomach churned violently.

Behind them, the cheering of the crowd resounded over the grounds. Not wanting to embarrass Olek, Nadja forced the sudden nausea down her throat and smiled tightly.

Queen Mede stood, joined by her husband. Loudly, the queen said, “Welcome to the family of Draig, Lady Nadja. I hope you will enjoy your new home.”

Nadja’s smile wavered slightly. Why did the queen just call her a lady? She glanced at Olek. He merely winked at her and she tried to dismiss it as a polite address to a new bride.

Nadja curtsied, “I am sure I will.”

The king and queen stepped forward, both to kiss her cheek in turn, apparently pleased to see she had spoken and carried herself so well. Her vision swam a little, but no one seemed to notice her dizziness.

“Nadja,” Olek said quietly so the gathered crowd wouldn’t hear him. “I would also like the honor of introducing you to my parents.”

Nadja smiled expectantly at the thought. Her eyes lifted to his. When he didn’t move, she said, “Of course. I would like that very much. Where are they?”

The king and queen both chuckled. She glanced at them in confusion. Why were they still standing there? And why were they looking at her like that?

Nadja turned back to Olek, not wanting to believe the curling suspicions whispering in her head. She studied his face. He grinned wider, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“We should probably get off the stage so the other couples can have their turn,” Nadja said, willing him to move.

Olek smirked. His green eyes danced with laughter as he motioned toward the royal couple. “Nadja, these are my parents.”

Nadja’s heartbeat screeched to a dead stop and she was sure she was having an attack of some sort. The smile froze on her face. Her whole body went numb.

No, she thought, he didn’t just say that.

“Nadja?” he questioned when she hadn’t moved. She continued to stare at him, unsure if she was about to strangle him or drop dead, probably both.

Nadja couldn’t help her hard expression as she looked at the royal couple.

“You,” she whispered, her voice refusing to come out any louder. “You are his parents?”

“Yes.” Queen Mede nodded once. The woman’s smile appeared kind and her eyes were as liquid in color as the king’s. “Welcome daughter. We are most pleased to have you as part of our family.”

Nadja didn’t react as the queen gave her cheek another kiss.

“Thank you,” Nadja said through tightly clenched teeth. The words were more from the training of her upbringing than any real sentiment. She tried to nod but her movements were rigid as if her neck might break from the effort. Blinking hard, she bit back her outrage.

Olek could not have been happier. Nadja’s dazed state was understandable. It was normal to feel a bit lightheaded as the power of the crystal was forever secured. He too felt the effects, but he was used to the crystal’s influence and it didn’t bother him to such an extent.

However, when Nadja’s expression remained frozen like a sofliar being hunted by a mirascat, his smile wavered.

His father leaned over to the queen and asked in their Qurilixian tongue, “What’s wrong with her?”

Olek flinched, protectively moving closer to Nadja. There was nothing wrong with his bride. She was perfect.

The queen answered in kind, “Just smile. The poor girl is stunned. She just found out she is a princess.”

Olek relaxed some, realizing his father wasn’t insulting Nadja merely concerned.

“I’ll never understand these offworld women,” the king said, but he smiled at his frozen daughter-by-marriage nonetheless. Changing his words to the Old Star language so the princess could understand him, he said, “Welcome daughter. It is as my wife says. We are most pleased to have you in our family.”

“Thanks,” Nadja answered through tight lips. She looked as if she barely breathed. Her porcelain skin was starting to dramatically pale to gray.

At the queen’s gentle urging, the king kissed Nadja’s cheek once more. The act seemed very unnatural for the man. Nadja’s eyes rounded a bit wider and she did not return the affection.

“Maybe you should take her home now, son,” the queen urged so Nadja couldn’t understand her words.

Olek smiled reassuringly at his parents, nodding in agreement. He took Nadja’s stiff arm.

“That is the destined wife to an ambassador? Let us hope the other princesses have their wits about them,” the king whispered playfully.

The queen shot him a warning glare and hit his arm as she allowed him to lead her back to her seat. Trying not to laugh at his handsome face, she murmured, “Behave!”

Happiness building in his chest, Olek led his new wife away. He was sure her reaction was merely the effects of the crystal. Someday he hoped to have the deep connection his parents had. Already they were off to a very fine start.

As soon as they were away from earshot, a very livid Nadja yanked her arm from Olek’s grasp. He looked at her in surprise, not expecting the reaction.

“Your parents, barbarian?” was the only thing she managed to get out.

Olek frowned, not understanding. Slowly, he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Your father is the king? Tell me you are a bastard son and not a prince,” she demanded. She didn’t seem to notice the forest around them, or the red dirt path he had been leading her up. “Tell me that calling them your parents is just another word for king and queen, as in the parents of us all. Tell me he isn’t really my new father-by-marriage. Tell me this is all a joke.”

“No, Nadja, they are the king and queen. Which makes me a prince and you, as my wife, a princess,” Olek said, his tone labored.

“A princess,” she repeated with a stiff nod. Her attitude was way past shock. Her eyes shot daggers. If looks could kill, he and everyone he had ever met would have been evaporated in that very instant. “Oh, a princess. Why not?”

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy, barbarian?” she asked under her breath. “I told you my terms. I-I… Did you think I wouldn’t care after it was said and done?”

To his amazement, Olek noticed that she never once yelled in anger, but said everything with a frightening calm. The reaction was much worse than someone who threw a loud tirade and tossed their arms about like a madman. It was the quiet ones who could think and control their anger that you had to look out for.

“This is not bad—” he tried to reason.

“I can’t be a princess,” Nadja argued. “I wanted to marry a farmer, or a miner, or a blacksmith, or a country doctor. I am going to live in a small cottage in the middle of the forest. I am going to have a little garden and catalog local plants. I am going to have a peaceful, non-important life. Do you understand me? I didn’t marry royalty. I couldn’t have. You said you were a working man. So I need you to go back up there and correct this mistake.”

“You want me to tell my parents they’ve been wrong my whole life and I’m not their son?” He arched a brow, unsure if laughter would be an appropriate response at this point.

“Not that. Our marriage. You go up there and tell them that your crystal was wrong. Go get the pieces. We’ll glue them back together and—” She gestured her hand as if dismissing him. “—better luck next year.”

“This cannot be undone.” He crossed his arms over his chest. No, definitely didn’t feel like laughing now. “We are married.”

“I married a working man.”

“As a prince, I do work,” he defended.

Olek scratched the back of his head, not understanding what the big deal was. Most women would be ecstatic by the discovery. She was titled and would have servants. They lived in a palace. She was rich and would never want for anything. But Nadja wasn’t ecstatic. She was downright infuriated.

“Right. Doing what? Kissing babies? Shaking hands? I know what kind of work men like you do,” Nadja said with a darkening glare. She put her hands on her hips. “Being a pampered prince isn’t work. You lied to me.”

By all that was sacred, she was beautiful.

“You obviously haven’t negotiated peace with the Var.” Lowering his lids over his eyes to give her a smoldering look, he murmured seductively, “And you didn’t think me such a barbarian last night.”

Nadja blushed. “Last night I didn’t realize I had bound myself to a liar.”

“I never lied,” Olek defended, his voice rising.

“You never told the truth. If you had told me you were royalty, I would never have agreed to this.” Her tone remained utterly calm. It was eerie how she could hold in her anger, letting it churn. “I could have saved us both the trouble.”

Olek didn’t answer. What could he say? He believed her.

The hope he had moments before faded. She didn’t want to be with him. Not even married five minutes and she was ready to end it over something he couldn’t change. Had she hated his hair long or disliked his choice of clothing, he would have been able to change for her. But he was a prince by birth. It was who he was.

Nadja stared at Olek, willing him to say he was joking. Tears burned behind her eyes but she held them back. After years of holding in her emotions, the act was automatic. All hopes of a simple life dwindled into nothingness. If she was a princess, then her name would be widely known. Her father would come for her. She couldn’t let that happen, not after she’d tasted a night of freedom.

Her stomach churned. She thought of the giant plate of chocolate she’d consumed. Obviously, freedom wasn’t the only thing she had tasted too much of.

Nadja grabbed her stomach and she ran to the forest, trampling the yellow ferns that spread out beneath the colossal trees, before falling to the ground. She could have done without the harsh discovery that chocolate wasn’t as good coming up as it had been going down. Her body jerked as she emptied her stomach. Olek was beside her immediately, holding her hair and tenderly whispering soothing sounds.

“I think you overdid it,” he said compassionately when she finished. He tried to draw her into his arms to hold her.

Nadja jerked her shoulders away, spitting onto the ground. She wouldn’t draw comfort from him, not now, not ever. Looking at him with all the betrayal she felt, she gasped for breath. “I want a divorce.”

Olek appeared stunned. She swayed on her feet. Frowning, he demanded, “Don’t you think you are overreacting?”

Nadja didn’t answer, trying to take deep gulps of air to calm her stomach. She was never eating chocolate again. This morning was nothing like she’d hoped.

“I told you, solarflower, once you broke the crystal, it can never be undone, not in death or separation. We are one being, like it or not. I will not let you go. There is no divorce for our people.”

“The only thing we will ever be, barbarian, is an unhappily wed couple,” she said through gritted teeth. Fear made her voice waspish and hard. She trembled, having seen firsthand what her father was capable of. This planet wasn’t under Federation Alliance law, but that also meant it wasn’t under Federation protection. Doc Aleksander wouldn’t need the help of the extradition act to come for her. She had no idea how long it would take for the news to reach his ears. It could be a week, a year, five years. She would never feel safe and no amount of barbaric warriors would be able to help her when he did come.

Was a simple life too much to ask for?

Swallowing, she commanded, “Now take me to our new home. I allowed your liar’s hands touch me and I need a bath.”

Chapter 9

Nadja peered around the bathroom, eyeing her new prison of gilded bars, and began to cry. The nightmare hadn’t ended, only morphed into this cruel joke of fate. She was truly a princess and she despised Olek for it.

Olek had been silent as he led her into the entry of the castle palace. Wrought iron gates lifted high over the entrance leading into the side of a large mountain. From the distance, the mountain had appeared like any other, so Nadja was amazed to find a palace camouflaged within it. Wide domes allowed light inside the tunneled path of red rock. Then, entering a front door of thick oak, they came to a series of passageways.

The deeper they walked into the mountain palace, the more trapped she felt.

The castle was as picturesque as she would have expected a palace to be. It was clean and decorated with tasteful paintings and sculptures. Tapestries hung on the walls, alongside banners with the emblem of the royal dragon. Nadja was quiet as Olek led her to his wing, the part he called their home.

When he opened the front door with a short voice command, Nadja stepped inside one of the most gorgeous dwellings she’d ever seen. The richness of it only dejected her more. She was supposed to have a modest five-room cottage, not a large wing of a palace.

As a prince, would Olek be naturally domineering? She had yet to meet royalty who wasn’t. Would he treat her like an object he possessed and controlled? Had she found freedom from one controlling nightmare only to step right into another one? From father to husband.

She kept her eyes averted as they walked, refusing to remember anything that happened the night before in the tent. Truth be told, her wanton actions mortified her. And the fact she’d acted in such a way with an obvious stranger humiliated her even more.

Her whole body wanted to fight, to scream at him, but life had taught her it wasn’t wise to yell at the man who held the power. She’s already let her anger slip after the ceremony. It had been a foolish lapse. Negative emotions were best dealt with quietly and kept bottled in. Then, and only then, could Nadja render a dignified response, and avoid being put into punishment.

Olek’s home was decorated with the dark green of his royal colors combined with a cream marble that bespoke of refinement and elegance. Water trickled over natural rocks in a giant indoor fountain in the front hall. It created a pleasant background noise and was home to the plants growing in its watery crevices.

Next to the fountain was a circular living area, filled with high-backed, comfortable chairs. A marble fireplace had been carved into an inlet in the stone wall. The large overhead glass dome allowed light through. With the push of a button, a thick curtain would swirl around the dome to darken the home.

An exotic fish tank acted as a transparent wall between the living room and the kitchen areas. Tiny bug-eyed blue fish swam in absent circles, blinking their eyelids and picking at the underwater lettuce growing in their tank. A huge red sucker fish adhered its oversized mouth to the side. Gradually, it changed color to pink and then to yellow. Its teeth worked against the glass as it ate.

Lush plant life hung tastefully from the ceiling in the corner of the living room, vining its way to a sun room off to the side. Nadja sighed, wryly thinking that she had indeed gotten her little garden. It brought her little pleasure. If there were gods controlling her fate, they had a very bad sense of humor.

A second fish tank with dark blue waters, which was harder to see through, separated the bathroom from the main living area. It made up about a quarter of the actual walls in the room. From her vantage point in the natural hot spring tub, she watched the tank. Occasionally, she would see the fin of what looked like a two-headed shark swim by.

The red bathroom had been carved from the mountain. The tub came up in the middle of the floor, rising from the ground and bubbling with constantly warm water. Nadja couldn’t find a drain, but did find a button on the wall that showered water down from the ceiling into the center of the bath.

There were the normal amenities expected on a primitive world—toilet, sink and a counter that curved around the circular walls with a long mirror over it. Beneath the countertop were numerous cabinets, some with towels and others with toiletries. With a turn of a knob, the light would dim and brighten as filters moved into place to block the outside light being directed inside.

Nadja had seen her bags in the front hall. Someone had brought them in from the Galaxy Brides’ ship. She would unpack later and settle in. If she was being forced to stay as Olek’s wife, then she was going to make things exactly how she wanted them. If he became annoyed with the way she rearranged his things, he might change his mind about keeping her.

Well, she thought bitterly. It’s not like I wanted any of this. I’d rather Olek led me to a little shack with a hole in the roof and made me peel potatoes all day like the wives on Gringen. I would have definitely been happier doing that.

Her tears began anew.

Olek sat on one of the high-backed chairs, miserably drawing absent lines along the sides. He detected the strange sadness coming from the bathroom, radiating off his wife onto him. She refused to speak to him, but he saw the outrage in her every step as he’d shown her the castle. When he opened the front door to his home, he’d hoped for a small smile or a gasp of pleasure. He’d worked hard decorating his house in hopes of pleasing his someday bride, as did all the princes. She didn’t even glance around. It was as if she didn’t care.

A deep ache filled him and he sunk lower into his chair. This wasn’t how he envisioned married life. He wanted his home to be a sanctuary. As the ambassador of the Draig, he had battles and negotiations and threats of battle to deal with nearly every day. It was stressful. The safety of his people depended on him.

To his surprise, Nadja came out of the bathroom. Her hair was wet around her shoulders but brushed back from her face. Her smaller body swam in the folds of his robe. Her eyes and nose looked red and Olek frowned to see it. She’d been crying. He hadn’t heard her though, only felt her pain.

“Where’s my room?” Her voice was nearly as hollow as her eyes, as she gazed past him. She waited patiently, not hurrying him for an answer.

Nadja shivered.

“Fire,” he ordered. The fireplace lit.

Nadja barely blinked as she glanced at the flames. “Does everything work on voice command?”

“All but the overhead lights.”

“My room?” Nadja repeated the request, breaking off any conversation he might start.

“Our room is this way,” Olek stood to grab her bags for her and led the way.

Nadja said nothing as she silently followed him down a short side hall near the front entryway.

Taking two steps up, he led her into a massive oval room. A large bed sat in the middle, lowered so that it was only a short step up from the floor. Like the bathroom, this room had light tunnels carved and scattered throughout the ceiling.

Another, smaller fireplace had been carved into the wall. A fur rug lay in front of it. On one side of the room, down two steps, was a circular closet with a balcony window that looked out over the countryside. He always thought the private view breathtaking. If his wife was moved, she didn’t show it.

Nadja crossed over to the bed. With a stiff hand, she drew back the green coverlet embroidered with the royal emblem of the fierce dragon. “I’m taking a nap.”

Olek watched her crawl into the bed and turn her back toward him. There was nothing welcoming about that declaration. There was nothing to their interaction at all.

This couldn’t be right. The gods didn’t make mistakes…did they?

“I’ll be working in my office if you need me,” Olek said quietly. “It’s located next to the kitchen.”

“I won’t need you.” Nadja stared at the fireplace.

Her words tore at him. He dimmed the overhead lights to let her sleep. As he walked away, he heard her mumble, “Fire.”

The orange of flames lit the walls of the short hall from behind him. He took a deep breath and kept walking, leaving her alone.

Chapter 10

“Open.”

“Exit.”

“Unlock!”

Olek looked up from his stacks of documents and frowned as his mind was pulled from its task. He rubbed his hands through his hair in frustration and quickly smoothed the locks down, brushing the side plaits over his shoulders. What was his new wife up to?

“Let me out, you…”

Nadja’s words were lost under a muffling of sound as they tapered off into an angry growl. He stood and moved around the haphazard pile of papers on his desk to see what she was up to. Hearing her continued muttering, he easily guessed her short nap was over. Too bad sleep didn’t seem to improve her mood.

Nadja faced the large front door as if she were about to attack it. Her hair was pulled back into a large bun at the nape of her slender neck. She wore a silk blouse and slacks, both her own clothing from her bags. Her short boot tapped impatiently on the marble floor as she stood, hands on hips, glaring at his front door.

“Sneaking out?” he asked, unable to hide his amusement at the scene.

Nadja kept her back to him so he couldn’t see her face, but her posture changed and became more poised. After several measured breaths, she turned to face him.

Olek witnessed the red tint to her cheeks and took it as anger. He had hoped that by letting her sleep, she would wake in a more reasonable frame of mind. It didn’t seem to be the case.

Nadja, who clearly had been planning on sneaking out, until the door refused to budge, replied, “I didn’t realize I was a prisoner. I wanted to get out of this house and go for a walk.”

“You are not a prisoner, solarflower,” Olek said softly, moving toward her. Oh, how he wanted to touch her. “Is that what you think it means to be royalty?”

She didn’t answer.

“Nadja,” he continued, emboldened by her silence, but not her stern look. “We are not prisoners here. You are as free as any other. I know the stories from other cultures where royalty isn’t allowed certain privileges, but we are not so strict. You can have a life. We do have to live by example and we do live to serve our people, but we are not prisoners to them.”

“So I have a job,” Nadja concluded darkly. “What is it? Holding your crown at ceremonies or wearing an outfit to match yours and smiling pretty for the cameras so we get nice photos in the newspaper chips?”

Olek grimaced.

“I don’t want that life, Prince Olek,” Nadja said. “I want a simple life. I want a garden.”

“We can live simply.” Olek lifted his hand to the atrium. “And there is your garden, solarflower. I’ll build you a hundred of them if it makes you happy. I’ll turn our whole home into a garden. If you want a cottage home, I will build you one in the forest. If you want the mountains, I’ll build you one there too. We can vacation there. If you want the stars, I’ll find a way to give them to you. I want you to be happy, Nadja.”

“You think you have all the answers.” She sighed, her eyes remaining hard. “You really have no idea. You have this romantic notion of what life is—stars and mountains. Anything can be bought including a wife.”

Confused by the low words, he stepped forward to better study her face. What was she trying to hide? “What was this really about? Are you trying to disappear from someone or something? Are you in trouble?”

Nadja tensed at his perceptiveness. She refused to meet his eyes. “No.”

Olek detected the falsehood instantly. She really was a bad liar.

“If you were, you could tell me,” Olek persisted. “I will stand by you, help you. My family will stand by you. You are one of us now.”

“I told you no. Don’t make me repeat myself or this will be a very tedious conversation.”

“Fine.” He kept his expression diplomatic, but inside he wanted to sigh and throw up his hands in frustration. “Keep your secret for now. But I hope one day soon you will come to know that you can trust me with it.”

Nadja turned back to the door, effectively cutting off the conversation. Enunciating her words, she demanded, “Open this door.”

“It’s not a good idea to wander about without an escort.”

“You mean a prison guard?”

“Open,” Olek instantly commanded. The door slid up to let her pass. “It’s easy to…”

Nadja strode out without a backward glance.

“To get lost,” he finished.

Olek sighed, at a complete loss. He felt helpless. Nothing he told her seemed to make her happy. Nothing he offered made her smile. Sighing, he fought the urge to follow her. He turned back to his office and the pile of work on his desk. He knew the first step of negotiating an understanding between two troubled people was a show of trust. And that is exactly what he would do. He would show Nadja he trusted her, even if she didn’t trust him.

Nadja was lost. Not that she really cared. She was sure if she kept wandering around the red stone halls someone would run across her and force her to go back to Prince Olek.

To her complete embarrassment, her dreams had been of him, naked, touching himself and touching her. The desire still burned in her mind and body. She had thought she’d be able to face him, but the second she turned to look at him heat rushed over her and she found it hard to breathe. He was dressed as he had been that morning in his formal green tunic. His long hair was braided down the sides, though the locks looked as if they had been slightly tousled.

Sweet agony! He was achingly handsome to look at. Her heart fluttered in a trill of excitement at the mere thought.

What is this really about? Are you trying to disappear from someone or something? Are you in trouble?

How did he suspect?

She walked faster, taking several turns without paying attention.

Nadja hadn’t expected him to guess her secret so soon. How else could she answer, but to lie?

If you were, you could tell me. I will stand by you, help you. My family will stand by you. You are one of us now.

His words had caused her to tremble, but she’d hid her vulnerability. She was sure when he knew the truth he wouldn’t be so willing.

Nadja desperately wished she could believe him, and make him understand. But, being who he was, Nadja was even more afraid of telling him who her father was. Surely as a prince he knew of the Medical Alliance for Planetary Health and its staff. No one said the words “Medical Mafia” out loud, but people knew. She saw it in their faces. They knew.

If word got out she was one of “those” Aleksanders, Olek and his family could be embarrassed and scandalized. They could ship her back in hopes of avoiding public dishonor. They might ship her back to avoid attracting her father’s certain kind of wrath.

Gripping onto her dream with both hands, she whispered, “This is not the path I wanted.” Then, stopping at the end of a hall, she frowned. This really wasn’t the path she wanted. She was fairly confident she’d been there before.

At the end of each hall were little carved squares with markings on them. Nadja deduced they were encoded directions. Staring at the mark, she couldn’t read it and couldn’t begin to translate it, so she ignored it. She continued on, turning aimless corners, stopping to look at the sculptures and paintings. The palace was almost as decorative as a Reggum art museum. It was exquisite, though Nadja would never have admitted it to anyone, as she snarled at the lovely pieces.

“Princess Nadja?”

Nadja froze, the title irritating her to no end. When she turned, she saw the queen and instinctively moved to curtsey.

“No, no,” the queen insisted lightly. A pleasant smile spread over her features. “Do stand. We only save such things for public ceremonies. Our people like to watch our old customs, but it doesn’t mean we have to live with all of them every day.”

Queen Mede glanced over her shoulder to the hall she had just come from. Her oldest son’s wife had indentured herself as a slave and her other two sons’ wives were being just as stubborn. It was most distressing. At least Olek had some luck with his blessing. This morning, before her shock, Nadja had appeared quite taken with Olek and that gave the queen hope.

Aside from Nadja, who knew the truth of what she had become and was hopefully accepting it, the other princesses had no clue they’d married royalty. It was just as well. Queen Mede understood that it was hard to see past the crown and her sons wanted to be sure their wives chose for themselves, without the added attraction of money and power.

“Is Olek with you?” the queen asked when the woman didn’t readily speak.

“No,” Nadja answered flatly, turning stiffly back to the painting.

The queen realized she couldn’t have been more wrong. Nadja was as discontent as the others. What had the gods done?

The princess’ tone hardened, as she said with a private laugh of irony, “He’s working.”

“Working? Again?” The queen sighed. “I had hoped he would take a few days off now that he was married.”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Nadja answered. “I would rather he kept himself busy.” Her tone lowered and she mumbled something that sounded like, “and away from me.”

“Away from…” the queen repeated in confusion. “Nadja, are you…?”

“I am fine.” Giving another curtsey, the woman said, “If you would excuse me.”

“Wait.” Queen Mede desperately wanted to get to know her daughters and Nadja was the only one her sons would allow her to see just yet, as she was the only one who knew the truth of her station. “What are you doing just now?”

“Getting myself lost.”

“May I keep you company?” The queen started to reach forward but hesitated. The woman’s posture did not welcome affection “I could take you shopping in the village. We could get whatever you needed. The Galaxy Brides porters didn’t deliver many bags. I’d imagine it must be difficult deciding what to pack when embarking for a new planet you have never seen. You will need to be fitted for new gowns and shoes.”

Nadja took a deep breath. The queen eyed her silk blouse and slacks without malice. Slowly, she nodded, “All right. I wouldn’t mind some fresh air.”

“Wonderful!” The queen gave a small press of her hands to the princess’ shoulders. “I cannot wait to show the people one of my new daughters.”

Chapter 11

Olek kept an eye on the time as he waited for Nadja to return. His mother had sent word that she’d taken his wife shopping. He would have to remember to thank the queen for the consideration. Though, Olek wasn’t sure if the news should make him happy or concerned since the queen was showing Nadja the way out of the palace. He supposed, if Nadja did try to run away, his mother would be able to catch her. He just hoped his wife didn’t say anything to make the queen angry.

When Nadja finally arrived home from her shopping spree, Olek was still in his office. No work had been done. Instead, he’d absently drawn sketches of his wife’s naked body, her face, her smile on the corners of his documents. He ached for her in a way he could barely contain. Even when she was gone, her scent stayed with him, teasing his already overheated desire.

“Just put the plants in the sun room,” Olek heard his wife say. “I’ll arrange them how I need to later.”

Voices joined hers and footsteps came across the marble entryway.

“Olek?”

Olek flinched. That was the voice of his mother. Almost like a nervous greenknight, he began stacking his papers on his desk to hide the naughty sketches he had done of his wife. When they were put away, he stood to cross over to the office door. Quizzically, he watched a mass of servants follow Nadja’s directions.

“Mother, Nadja,” he acknowledged with a smile.

“Your wife is quite the bargainer,” the queen said with a grin.

Olek didn’t care. He could well afford anything she wanted and was pleased to see she was making herself comfortable in his home. She was welcome to rearrange things exactly as she would have them.

“I needed some items,” Nadja said a bit defensively. “This house is decorated for a man, not a woman.”

Olek crossed over to where some plants lay on a table, their dirty roots spread out beneath them as if they had been dug out of the forest. He looked at Nadja, lifting his brow.

“You can’t eat these,” Olek said. They were ugly little plants so she couldn’t have picked them for beauty.

“That’s what I told her,” his mother said. “But, she insisted.”

“Wait,” Nadja said, pointing at a man with a long box. “That one goes over there in the bathroom.”

Olek shared a grin with his mother. Quietly, he moved to sit before the fireplace as Nadja continued to give instructions. She handled herself with politeness and knew exactly what she wanted. The men showed her respect, their eyes smiling at her in instant adoration. He watched carefully, as she charmed each and every man in the room with her reserved nature—every man including him. She was truly a princess.

An older man, wearing the worn tunic of a craftsman, came to the door. He looked around. Then, seeing the princess, he smiled and came forward. Olek watched as Nadja pointed to the sun room and motioned with her hands. The carpenter nodded his wrinkled face, bit his lip, calculated his thoughts, and then answered her. Nadja smiled, motioning him to go ahead with whatever it was she was planning. The man began measuring the entryway into the atrium.

“I should get going,” the queen said, turning to her new daughter. “Nadja, I’ll see you tomorrow for those dress fittings. The seamstress said she would be here by nine.”

“Fine,” Nadja answered, smiling at the woman. Olek wished the smile was for him. “Don’t forget you also promised to show me the family library tomorrow.”

“Maybe Olek could take you,” Queen Mede suggested, meaningfully eyeing her son.

“I would love to,” he said. Nadja’s back stiffened. He could envision the frown darkening her features.

The queen waved goodbye to her son, who motioned lazily in return. He shot her a disobedient grin as his eyes once again strayed to Nadja’s back.

Olek waited for the delivery men to finish dropping off their loads. They left packages spread about in their wake. Nadja still refused to look at him directly. He stared at her.

“My lady, I can start tomorrow morning if you like,” the carpenter said in a stilted accent, putting his measuring device away.

“That would be wonderful.” Nadja walked the older man to the door. Not rushing his slower pace. “Come whenever you’re ready.”

“Yes, my lady,” the man agreed. Then turning to Olek, he bowed, “My lord.”

Olek waved his hand at the man and smiled, vastly amazed by the whole scene.

When the door shut on his command, Nadja turned. The pleasant light faded from her features as she studied him. Without saying a word, she picked up her uprooted plants and began moving toward the atrium.

“Did you buy out the entire village?” he teased.

Nadja frowned and studied him. Her lips tightly pressed, she said, “I needed a few things.” With that she walked to the atrium.

Olek wasn’t willing to let the conversation die, even if he was the one who had to carry all of it. Trying to keep his tone light, he asked, “What is the carpenter for?”

Her expression became defensive, and again he was surprised when her voice didn’t, but stayed low and even. She looked mad enough to scream. “I need a door. I am making this sun room my office. You get your private space, I get mine.”

Olek followed her into the atrium. Boxes blocked the pathways and he stepped around them. Nadja held the plants in her hand with a light grip, and looked around.

“What is all this stuff?” he asked, bending over to pick through the boxes.

All he saw was a glass container before she demanded, “Leave my belongings alone. I’m not going to search through your personal effects. The least you could do is stay out of mine.”

Olek lifted his hands and retreated from his curious exploration. “So, you’re planning a bigger garden?”

“Don’t you have some work you could be doing, prince?” She ignored him as she drew a rectangular pot from the box already filled with dirt. Setting it down, she crouched, repotting the plants from the forest.

“Those really aren’t used for anything,” Olek said, still doing his best to ignore her annoyance. “They won’t bud with flowers.”

She gave him the you’re still here? look and quickly finished what she was doing. When she tried to leave, Olek blocked the door.

“Do you mind?” Nadja tried to shuffle past him, but he moved to block her way. He took a step forward, forcing her to retreat.

“I need to get water for the plants,” she said weakly. Nadja again tried to move past him. He blocked her.

His body stirred, as he smelled the fragrance of her desire for him. The atrium dome was on a timer and Nadja jumped as the curtains clicked and began to close overhead.

“What are you doing, Olek?”

He dipped forward, as if to kiss her, and whispered, “I’m going to tend to my little solarflower.”

Nadja swallowed in apprehension, not sure how to respond to Olek’s comment. All day the queen had done nothing but list the prince’s good qualities for her. He was such a brave fighter, a good man, an expert negotiator, a hard worker, would make a good father—wink, wink.

When she gazed up at him, she thought about none of those things. His eyes searched her with a charged electrical need she felt down to her toes. No matter how hard she tried to pretend she hated him, she knew it wasn’t entirely true. She hated her situation, she hated her fear, but she could never hate him. Nadja trembled with longing, eager to pick up where they had left off the night before.

As he leaned his face toward hers, she stepped back. Her legs hit a low shelf and she realized her escape route was blocked by plants and flowers.

Olek didn’t stop his pursuit. He came forward until his body pressed next to hers, trapping her with his solid heat. She felt every hard inch of him burning into her, sending needles of pleasure over her traitorous nerves. Her eyes dipped at the contact and she took a deep, steadying breath. The scent of nature filled her nose.

Nadja didn’t think to pull away as his lips touched hers. She moaned softly and her knees weakened. His mouth boldly laid claim to hers in a scorchingly hot kiss, searing her senses with liquid desire. She grabbed a ledge and clutched it for support.

“Olek,” she tried to say against his mouth, though she didn’t draw her parted lips away from his. “I don’t want—”

He deepened the kiss to cut off her words while stealing her breath. Nadja moaned, panted, whimpered, tried to struggle with reason while leaning into him for more. The prince ignited a primal need deep inside her. He pressed the solid mass of his arousal into her hips and rocked so she could feel all of him.

“Take off your clothes, Nadja,” he urged against her mouth. “Strip for me again. Let me see your exquisite body.”

Nadja shivered. When she didn’t comply, his hands were at her slacks, unbuttoning them.

“Tell me you want me to take you right here,” he demanded confidently.

Olek held so much power in his tone that Nadja shuddered to hear it. She could never be that bold, could she? She held still, letting him do what he wanted to, unable to fight or deny him.

“Tell me you’re hot for me. Tell me you want me to turn you around and ride you right here and now.”

Nadja panted into his mouth. She couldn’t speak for he was stealing her breath with his wicked words and head-spinning kisses. Without the fog of liquor and crystal radiation, such statements were not in her catalog of phrases. She would never ask something so vulgar as to be ridden.

“Tell me you want me inside of you.” Olek broke the kiss. She moved to resume it, but he clearly was not giving her anymore of his mouth until he had her plea. His hand slipped into her underwear, moving to touch her. “Tell me you want me thrusting myself right here.”

Nadja was moist with desire and his finger took full advantage as he lightly stroked her. Shockwaves of pleasure shot through her from his touch. A whimper left her lips, light and pleading. Her mouth opened, staying back from his. She did want him. It was treacherous agony. How could she fight her own body as well as his?

“Say it solarflower,” he commanded. His searching hand grew urgent, touching deeper, rubbing against her center nub, stroking a dangerously hot fire. “Say you want to be my princess. Say you’re happy here with me. Say you want me to take you here and now. Say you want me to end your torment as well as mine. I’ll make you happy, I promise. Please, solarflower, let me make you happy.”

There was desperation in his tone. Nadja couldn’t say it. She knew she was his wife and she took her obligations and her word seriously. Besides, where else could she go? Galaxy Brides would try to fine her for breach of contract. Olek would look for his runaway bride and her father would be sure to get wind of it all the faster. Her position here was as much her doing as his. She chose to take off the mask, knowing full well what she was doing, knowing she was marrying a complete stranger. But, to say the words out loud? She couldn’t do it. It would make them too real.

“No,” Nadja said to his obvious amazement and to hers as well. She would never understand how she managed to shove that one word past her tightened throat. Her body stiffened, trying to rebel against the logic of her mind.

Olek visibly shivered as she denied him.

To her everlasting torment, he pulled his hand from her eager sex and stepped back.

“Ah!” The sound came weakly from Nadja’s throat as he withdrew. His shoulders rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. She wished he hadn’t stopped. Her hands trembled, ready to demand him back.

“Go tend your garden, wife,” Olek whispered, stepping away. His eyes pierced into her as he disappeared through the door. His footsteps stormed across the front hall and Nadja heard him leaving the house. Her knees weakened and she dropped to the floor.

Nadja groaned. Her pussy throbbed and ached with what he did to her. Nadja had no practice with how to end the torment herself and was too afraid to try. Forcing herself to stand, she went to the kitchen for a glass of water. But, instead of watering the plants, she poured the glass on her white silk shirt to cool her flaming skin. Olek’s denial was definitely worse than any punishment her father had put her through.

Olek stalked through the passageways. He didn’t care where he went as long as it wasn’t back home. His eyes flashed a dangerous gold, threatening a full shift into the beast he could become. His teeth gnashed angrily. His fists needed a good fight.

The temptingly soft feel of her was still against his fingers. He was hard, ready for her, ready to claim her completely. Never had lust bit him so wretched and hard. However, he wouldn’t prove her words true and act the barbarian for her. He didn’t need her holding that against him as well.

Taking a deep breath, he knew his aching body needed to cool. He saw his oldest brother Ualan, covered in mud from a day of mock battle out in the swamps. He growled darkly. Ualan’s eyes flashed as he returned the sentiment with one of his own. The brothers passed each other, not stopping to speak.

Chapter 12

Olek didn’t come home that night. Nadja hated to admit she waited up, listening for him from their bed. Judging by the state he left her in, she wondered if he sought out someone more agreeable to tend to his masculine needs. That is what men of power did, after all. The idea tore bitterly at her, filling her chest with anger to hide the pain.

Nadja dozed lightly, but didn’t get much rest. She considered sleeping on the couch, but wouldn’t give up the satisfaction of snubbing him if he tried to touch her. Though, for that plan to work, he’d have to actually come to bed.

By the time morning arrived and she dragged herself out of bed, her mood was a mixture of outrage and worry—worry that something had happened to him, and angry that someone else might have happened to him. Regardless of her mood, she didn’t try to leave the house. Not that she could if she wanted to. The door had yet to be programmed to her voice.

The queen arrived promptly at nine as promised and was able to open the door with her command. The dressmaker was right behind her followed by a half-dozen dutiful helpers—all men. They carried swatches of material for her to choose from. The woman appeared kind, speaking to the queen in the Qurilixian tongue. Queen Mede would in turn translate for Nadja.

Lifting her arms up, Nadja held still as the dressmaker measured her chest. She asked the queen, “So, you just have the four sons?”

“Just?” The queen laughed, looking up from where she had moved a high-backed chair to better watch the dressmaker’s progress. “There is nothing just about being plagued with four sons.”

Nadja smiled despite herself. “All the women on the trip over were abuzz with the idea of marrying royalty. The princes were all they could talk about.”

She glanced at the workers, very aware they weren’t alone.

“Don’t worry, they can’t understand the Old Star language. Bara can’t speak it so only hires those who can’t as well, so no one can talk about her,” the queen reassured Nadja. The dressmaker glanced up at her name. The queen smiled and nodded at her while saying to the princess, “Speak freely.”

Nadja nodded, also giving Bara a reassuring smile.

“And you, Nadja? Were you abuzz with the idea?” the queen asked thoughtfully.

Before stopping to think, she answered honestly, “No. I wanted a simple man like a fat, country doctor.”

Nadja blinked in surprise, realizing what she had revealed. Her mouth opened in instant apology. This battle really was between Olek and herself. She liked Queen Mede too much to say anything offensive to her.

The queen shook her head to stop any apology and chuckled.

“That is to say I thought it was an advertising ploy by the company to get women to sign on for the trip,” Nadja explained. She lowered her arms as the dressmaker finished. “And your other sons? Did they all find brides?”

“Yes,” the queen answered. The news should have made a mother happy, but Nadja could tell she was troubled. “They have. As have my four nephews.”

“Can I ask their names?” Nadja inquired, curious as to which of the women had also won the notice of nobility.

“My oldest, Prince Ualan is married to Morrigan Blake. Zoran married a woman named Pia and,” Queen Mede paused and chuckled. “To tell the truth, Yusef’s bride won’t give him a name so we don’t know.”

Nadja’s giggle joined the queen’s. “And your nephews? Are they here at the palace?”

“No, they live in the mountain fortress. I’m afraid their luck has been most unfortunate.” The queen’s gaze clouded slightly and Nadja swore she saw the color of her eyes shift. Bara tugged her arm to get her to hold still, so Nadja couldn’t confirm it.

“How so?” Nadja prompted.

“It is nothing to be concerned over. You have your own new marriage to settle into.” Queen Mede paused, speaking to the dressmaker. She motioned her hands in the shape of Nadja’s hips. Bara answered. When they’d finished, the queen continued, “I suppose all brides need time to settle into marriage. I was born here so it was not the same for me. I did not have a new home world to get accustomed to.”

“But they are settling?” Nadja insisted. There was something in the woman’s expression that caused her concern. She thought of the women on the ship. Though she hadn’t known them long, she felt a certain kinship to them from the Galaxy Brides’ journey.

“I’m afraid one has fallen ill. Riona Grey. Do you know her?”

“I believe she was friends with a woman named Olena and came with her sister?” Nadja didn’t really think telling the queen that her nephew married a gambler was a topic she wanted to get in to. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She breathed in the pollen from the yellow plants that grow along the forest floor outside the palace. The one you mentioned wanting to get a sample of?”

Nadja nodded.

“She had a reaction to it and now sleeps very deeply and will not wake.”

“A coma?” Nadja deduced in surprise. She jumped off the stool, much to the dressmaker’s ire. She moved away from Bara, who instantly began to scold her. She ignored the woman, not understanding anything she said. “Don’t you have access to a medical booth?”

“We do. It didn’t help,” the queen said.

“But Riona can breathe?” Nadja insisted. There was very little the MAPH medical booths couldn’t cure or at least help. And a coma induced by plant pollen? The transmission would suggest a simple allergic reaction, but the medical booth should have been able to counteract that easily. Even twentieth century Old Earth doctors with their primitive tools could have helped an allergy. “Is it an old unit? Outdated? That doesn’t make sense. What kind of allergic—”

The door suddenly slid open, cutting off her words and her thoughts. Olek walked in, wearing the same tunic as the day before, only it was a little more wrinkled. Nadja’s carpenter was with him. Her smile faded when the prince looked at her, and she affected an indifferent air.

Olek spoke to the carpenter in their native language, pointing at the sun room and giving him obvious commands. The carpenter nodded at Nadja’s attention, but listened to her husband.

She chased after the men as they went to examine the sun room’s entryway.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Nadja pulled on Olek’s arm. She was careful to keep her voice low.

She studied him suspiciously trying to ascertain if he had been with anyone the night before. A beard shadowed his features and his eyes were darkened as if he hadn’t slept. Her heart beat wildly and for a moment she forgot to speak. When his mouth quizzically curled at her silence, it was as if they were the only two in the room.

The spell was interrupted as the dressmaker came to tug on Nadja’s arm, intent on dragging her back to the stool. It was clear by the tone of Bara’s voice that Nadja was still being scolded. Olek’s smile deepened, his eyes holding her in their depths.

Hearing Queen Mede’s chuckle, Nadja blinked. Then, frowning at Olek as she came back to her senses, she demanded, “You’d better not tell him to change anything I ordered.”

Olek turned his back, ignoring her.

Nadja’s heart fluttered in her chest as she watched for Olek’s piercing gaze to find her again. Her limbs were weakened as she again lifted her arms for the dressmaker. The woman forced her to turn, so she could no longer see what Olek was up to. She was too proud to attempt a peek.

Queen Mede smiled a secret smile, having witnessed the look between her son and his new wife. They may be at odds, but the passion was definitely there. One boy would soon be settled. Now, there were only seven more to go.

King Llyr would be delighted to know that all was going to be fine on this front, even if the couple didn’t realize it yet for themselves.

Chapter 13

To Nadja’s delight, the carpenter had begun work on the doorframe. After the dressmaker had finished her many measurements, it was time to pick out the patterns. Queen Mede was a great help, as she chose the most appropriate gowns for each of a princess’ occasions. When it came down to the material, Olek’s closet was examined, and matching designs were sketched out for Nadja’s formal wear.

By the time they’d finished, Nadja was exhausted. The queen left with the dressmaker, winking at Nadja as she passed through the doorway. Nadja gave her a tired smile in return. Leaving the carpenter to his work, she wandered toward the kitchen. The queen had offered to let her dine in the common hall with the rest of the castle, but Nadja had refused. Eating at home suited her more than dining in front of a room filled with palace residents.

Crossing by Olek’s office door, she couldn’t help peeking in. The night before she had explored the home while putting away all her purchases and unpacking her suitcases. His office was neatly organized, except for his desk, which was cluttered with electronic organizers and stacks of paper written in several different languages she couldn’t read.

Before she realized what she was doing, Nadja had stepped into the office instead of the kitchen. Olek blinked, looking up in surprise to see her. He had taken a shower and shaved. The color of his dark cotton shirt brought out his eyes. His hair was still a little wet, combed back from his face to hang damp around his shoulders.

“All finished?” Olek asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his hands behind his head.

A slight, humorous smile found its way naturally to his lips and Nadja realized he just couldn’t help himself. She nodded, pressing her lips thoughtfully together. “I told your mother to make sure the dressmaker shows you the list first. Queen Mede ordered a good amount on my behalf and I wasn’t sure what my budget was.”

“You don’t have one.” His hands stayed threaded behind his head.

“Oh,” Nadja gasped in surprise. “The queen said I could put everything on our account. I’m sorry I should have asked before going shopping. I’ll pay you back for everything—wait here.”

Nadja hurried to the bedroom closet to dig through her luggage. Pulling out a gold box that her father had given her, she brought it back toward Olek’s office. When she reached the living room, he was there waiting for her. The carpenter had disappeared into the sun room.

Nadja held the gold box against her stomach as she pulled the lid open. It was filled with jewelry. She fingered several of the pieces lightly before lifting a diamond necklace so he could see it. Her hand trembled and she tried to act indifferent as she dropped the necklace back onto the pile.

“I planned on getting rid of this stuff anyway.” Nadja gave a small shrug. “I’m not sure who to take it to. I didn’t see any brokers when I was in the village. Maybe you know someone who’d buy it. Then, you could just take whatever cash I owe you for your trouble, plus what I owe for yesterday’s shopping, and the gowns, then give me back what’s left.”

“Nadja—”

“No, it’s all right. I trust you to be fair about it,” she broke in. She held out the box to him and when he didn’t readily take it, she shoved it into his chest.

Olek reluctantly held onto it instead of letting it fall.

Carefully, she added, “Maybe a jeweler could melt it down before reselling it.”

“This isn’t necessary. I don’t expect you to sell your belongings—”

Again she interrupted before he could finish. “No, really,” Nadja said a little too eagerly. “I don’t want any of it and the cash would help me out until I can find a job.”

“You have a job.”

“Being a princess?” Nadja shook her head. “No thanks. I’m sure I can find something that pays decently enough. I can earn my own way. It’s what I planned on doing anyway.”

“When I said you didn’t have a budget, I simply meant you could buy whatever you needed. I won’t limit you.” Olek set the box aside and moved to stand before her. “I can well afford it. There is no need for you to sell your jewels or seek other employment.”

Nadja glanced down to avoid meeting his eyes. Instead, she found herself looking at the simple Qurilixian cotton drawstring pants he wore. Queen Mede had told her it was the casual style often worn during the evenings. She took a step back, her body all too willing to remember what his had felt like next to hers, and how she had ached for hours afterwards.

“All the same,” she answered. “I would have you get rid of that stuff. I don’t want any of it, and I won’t change my mind. Just make sure you tell the jeweler to take my name off of everything before he sells it.”

Olek conceded with a nod. Nadja relaxed.

“We need groceries,” she said, changing the subject with ease as she went to the kitchen.

“I usually dine in the hall. My brother Ualan is the cook in the family.”

“Is that where you ate last night?” Nadja queried, feigning disinterest. “With your brother?”

“I ate at the royal office.”

“With your brothers?” she probed. Even though she made a great show of rummaging through his refrigerator, everything inside her concentrated on his answer.

“No. I was with my father.”

“I don’t really care what you do,” Nadja lied. Frowning, she slammed the door shut. There was nothing within that tempted her. She went to the cupboard and repeated the same procedure, rummaging through, finding nothing, and shutting the door.

After her third unsuccessful try, Olek stepped forward, offering, “We could stop and get something on the way to the library. Or I could have food delivered there if you like. I promised to take you.”

“Oh.” Nadja thought that maybe he had forgotten. He tried to move closer and she artfully avoided contact with him as she went into the living room. Olek followed behind her. “If it’s not too much trouble, then that would be fine. You don’t have to stay there with me if you have work to tend to. I just need to know where it is.”

“I have time.”

“Let me grab my translator.” Nadja walked into their bedroom. Once out of view, she took a deep breath and then another. Olek made it very hard to concentrate.

Olek’s heart ached in disappointment. His wife seemed so eager to get rid of him. Earlier, when he’d come home, he’d heard her laughter with the queen through the door. He’d thought to find her in a better mood, but one look in his direction and her smile had faded. She had looked so beautiful, standing tall on the dressmaker’s stool, wearing the soft cotton top and pants of his people.

She’d avoided him most of the day, so he’d been surprised when she’d shown up in his office. He had to hold his hands behind his head to keep them from reaching out for her. He desperately would love to kiss her lush lips, as he had his way with her on his desktop. At this point, he’d settle for just holding her next to him—anything to have her close.

It had not been his intention to stay out all night. He’d wondered if she was going to ask him where he had been, or if she’d be mad at him for not sending word. He’d heard wives sometimes did things like that. The slightly possessive tinge in her words when she finally mentioned it told him that, even though she might still be upset with him, she obviously cared enough to be jealous at the idea he might have been up to something untoward.

In fact, it had been quite the opposite. The king suspected someone had tried to break into the royal office and they’d been pouring over the possibilities. As far as they could tell, nothing was missing. That event, and a few others, led them to a very troubling conclusion. It was possible they had a spy in their midst. They decided not to alarm anyone else in the family until they knew for sure. With troubled marriages, Lady Riona in a coma, Princess Morrigan self-indentured, every other noble marriage in trouble, and King Attor in all likelihood gearing up for another brutal round of ‘which side can kill the other faster’…well, it didn’t seem like the best time to trouble everyone with the possibility of a traitor.

Olek frowned as his eyes fell on the golden jewelry box. Nadja’s name had been engraved on a few of the pieces so the valuables clearly weren’t stolen. Picking the box up, he took it to the safe hidden in his office floor. Even though she said she didn’t want it, he would hold if for her just in case she changed her mind, or until she told him the real reason for wanting to get rid of it. As his fingers lightly dug through the top layer of jewelry, he couldn’t help but wonder who had given her so many expensive gifts.

Taking some of the papers off his desk, he put them into a long, narrow case encrusted with his royal seal. Nadja waited for him until he came back. She was lovely, and he ached to hold her. He couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw her. However, it felt like his smile was becoming less and less frequent as of late.

Nadja curiously glanced at his case but didn’t ask about it. Olek stopped her at the door and, spoke a random succession of Qurilixian words, before whispering, “Loudly give a command so it can record your voice.”

“Open,” Nadja stated. Olek confirmed her voice command, and motioned for her to speak again. “Open,” she repeated and the door slid open.

Repeating the same procedure, he had her order the door to close. She smiled thoughtfully when they were finished, clearly pleased that she would be able to leave on her own. Olek said nothing as he led her out into the hall, but couldn’t help wondering if she thought about escaping him.

The palace library was much larger than Nadja imagined it would be. Books, giant old tomes of the written word, lined the high shelving. Nothing was on a computer and the musty smell of dust and age hung thick on the air. Nadja instantly loved being in the room.

Though she found a few books written in a very dated dialect of the Old Star language, they were mostly dated novels from Old Earth. The books she was interested in were in the planet’s native language. She was glad she had brought her book translator with her, until she realized it didn’t translate the Qurilixian script. Luckily, Olek was able to load a program onto her unit that could.

He stayed patiently out of her way as she figured out their filing system. Sitting on one of the low red chairs, he took out a pencil and began to work. She caught his eyes on her ass a few times as she made her way around but tried to act like she didn’t notice.

Nadja lifted up on her toes to scan a book’s binding and then pulled her arm down to read the title on her little screen. She stubbornly refused to ask him for help, though it would have sped the process along.

A servant brought lunch, a simple fare of meat, cheese and bread. Nadja made a sandwich and ate standing up while she searched, refusing to sit with her husband. Olek merely picked at the plate, lounging back in his chair as he made the pretense of not watching her.

Finally, several thick volumes and a few hours later, she was ready to go. Olek eyed her load, glancing over the titles. Nadja half-expected him to order her to put some of them back. She’d chosen several medical texts, an encyclopedia of the planet’s herb and plant life, gardening, and more than a few scientific journals.

“Do I need to tell someone I am taking these?” Nadja asked. It was the first thing she had said to him in hours and her voice was husky from little use.

It had been very disconcerting to have him so near, watching her. His sultry eyes left her weak. So many times she wanted to cross over to him and just start kissing his perfect mouth, touching his perfect body. Nadja had never been so bold and she hadn’t forgotten what happened the day before.

Olek blinked, as if surprised to hear her finally speak. He had attempted conversation a few times only to be shushed by her silence. “No, it is the family library. You may take what you like, but when you’re done, bring them back for the others.”

Nadja nodded, surprised at how readily they accepted a stranger into their midst as part of their family. She hadn’t been denied a single thing. Olek reached to lift the heavy load from her arms into his. Nadja almost refused, but they were heavy so she let him take them.

When they arrived back to the house, the carpenter was finishing up. Nadja was very pleased with what the man had accomplished in one day—and a little surprised since he walked so very slow. She was even more amazed that he’d built her new shelving in the sun room for the additional plants she’d collected. He’d also made her a potting table with places to hang spades and hand rakes. She realized Olek had not only ordered the additional construction, but he’d bought her a cushioned stool.

She smiled and thanked the carpenter as he left. Olek walked the older man outside, murmuring to him in their shared tongue. When he came back, Nadja managed a weak nod of thanks as she disappeared inside her room to unpack her boxes and leaf through the books.

Chapter 14

Olek couldn’t get anything done. Nadja was in his head. Everywhere he looked in his home, she was there. She was in the throw pillows she added to his couch, in the tablecloth and vase of flowers on his dining room table, in the endless line of feminine toiletries laying siege to his bathroom counters and cabinets. He never realized a woman would need so much stuff.

The rest of the evening, he stayed in his office, listening for movement from the atrium on the other side of the wall. As a shifter, his hearing was very sensitive and he detected the swish of turning pages and the raining of dirt into a pot. He wanted her so badly, longed for her with every fiber of his being but she wouldn’t have him. He’d seen her desire that night in the tent. What had happened? Why was being a princess such a big deal to her? Would she really have been happier with a poor farmer?

None of her prejudices against his station make sense, especially in light of her expensive jewels. It wasn’t as if his refined beauty grew up poor on a farm and was used to such a life. In fact, he would bet she wouldn’t last a month of constant, hard, manual labor. Everything about her indicated she came from money and affluence. It was in the way she carried herself, the way she instructed servants with ease and kindness, the way she commanded respect without even knowing it. These were traits bred into a person from birth, not mimicked or learned.

Unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, Olek stealthily moved toward the atrium door. It wasn’t closed all the way. A stream of light filtered through the narrow opening. The evening dusk brought with it a chill and he quietly murmured for fire.

Knocking softly, he caused the sun room door to swing open. It wasn’t the garden he’d expected. Instead, the potting table was filled with glass jars bubbling with mysterious liquids. A stack of writing papers carried strange symbols and notations. Books were scattered on a clean bench, several opened to different pages. In the middle of it all was his wife.

Nadja’s brow furrowed in concentration as she lifted her translator to the book. She mumbled something under her breath, made a notation, and turned to lift one of the jars of green liquid. Still muttering to herself, she wrote her observations down on the paper.

“Nadja?” Olek asked, realizing she didn’t hear him come in.

Nadja jumped, nearly spilling the green liquid down her shirt. She froze and took several deep breaths. Setting the glass down carefully, she backed her hands away as if the liquid would somehow jump off the table on its own. Then, suddenly whirling to face him, she demanded, “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that? Didn’t you ever hear of knocking?”

“I did knock,” Olek answered, seeing she was shaken. He ignored her usual ire, and stepped into her new office.

Nadja twisted her fingers together as he looked down at her notes. She quickly covered them to hide them from view. It was pointless because he couldn’t read the notations anyway.

“What exactly are you doing?” Olek asked. “This doesn’t look like gardening.”

“I’m…” She hesitated, a frown marring her brow. “It’s none of your business. I don’t bother you about what you do all day, or last night for that matter. You could afford me the same courtesy.”

“All day I work on matters of the House of Draig—rather boring but important tasks. Last night, I was in the royal office going over papers with the king and I fell asleep on the couch.” To his surprise, the admission actually seemed to relieve her. Olek lifted the green jar. “Is this a kind of fertilizer?”

Nadja tensed as he recklessly swirled it. “Don’t!”

A splash of liquid came out over the edge and dotted onto one of the plants. Instantly, the leaf began to bubble and melt. Olek frowned, his eyes turning to her suspiciously.

“It’s not what you think,” Nadja said, holding up her hands in defense of any unspoken words. When he didn’t lower the jar, she eased it out of his fingers and gingerly set it on the table. “It could have taken off your skin.”

“How do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, still wary.

“It was a simple mistake. The translator was reading your word for poison as potion and the word for hydrochloric acid as happiness cream and I just now figured out what it was trying to say. The combination of these elements make acid, not…” Nadja paused looking at him. “I’m sorry. It’s all really very boring.”

“No, please, go on,” Olek said, liking the sound of her low siren’s voice. He could listen to it forever, it didn’t matter what she talked about.

“No, it gets really…scientific. You couldn’t possibly be interested.” Nadja slowly urged him back to the door. When she got him outside, she shut the atrium-turned-laboratory door. “I would just appreciate if you didn’t touch anything in there until I can figure out how to write on my labels in Qurilixian.”

“I can easily read seven languages and speak nearly thirty fluently. Label them however you like.”

Nadja looked surprised by the admission. “You have an uploader unit at the palace?”

“No.” He chuckled.

She stopped near the fireplace. Orange light glowed over her skin, contrasting her features.

“We don’t use uploads,” he said. “Sometimes the material doesn’t process correctly when you need it to.”

“Too bad. It would really help the brides learn the basics of your language. The phonetics alone can give a non-native a headache.”

Nadja stiffened, as if she hadn’t planned on revealing so much.

Too late. Olek caught it. Smiling in pleasure, he asked, “You’re trying to learn my language?”

“I…” Nadja hesitated and looked away. “It would only be prudent. Since I am here, I should be able to speak to people.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” His voice deepened, as he closed the distance between them. He reached to stroke her cheek, casting a spell between them as his touch moved over her throat to brush over her collarbone. “I will gladly teach you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Though she denied him with words, her eyes drifted closed as his mouth hovered near. Olek was surprised at how sincerely she softened into his arms. For all her refined defiance, her defenses crumbled easily.

“I would give it,” he whispered, leaning in to close the distance between their lips.

Olek’s mouth conquered hers with tenderness before trailing to her neck. His movements became urgent as his hand found a hold on her breast. He began walking her backward to the water fountain in the front hall, as he whispered hoarsely against her throat, “Tell me you want me.”

Nadja didn’t answer. Her cheeks flushed with red.

Olek growled at her silence. Her body said everything her lips refused to. Her hands found his shoulders, his back. Her fingers tangled into his hair, urging him onward.

He lifted her up on the edge of the fountain. Climbing to join her, he forced her into the water. Her feet splashed as she landed. Water rushed over her shoulders, wetting her tight cotton shirt and budding her dark nipples to straining.

Olek didn’t ask her permission as he tore the shirt from her body. His gaze burned into hers, daring her to deny him, as the water caressed her naked flesh. He stepped closer, causing her to lean against the hollow in the rocks. Ripping a long strip from her shirt, he studied her face for a reaction as he grabbed one of her wrists in his large palm. Lifting her arm with deliberate slowness, he raised it above her head. He looped the shirt around the peak and easily tied her to the fountain. His gaze dark and serious, he lifted her other hand and bound it in the same fashion. Her lips parted, but it wasn’t a sound of protest that whispered past her throat.

Olek eyed his handiwork, very pleased. He glided his hands over her flesh with the aid of the water. She was beautiful, writhing in her innocent passion for him. With her restrained, it would be so easy to claim her. But Olek needed answers first and this might be the only way he could get them. This was the only time she let down her guard, mindlessly responding to him.

Nadja was too far gone to resist him. Her heart hammered in her chest. The sound of his moans rolled over her soft and low. No matter how much Nadja tried to tell herself that she would deny him when this moment came, she couldn’t. His warmth drew her in and caused the stirring of emotions she couldn’t control or fight. Her body sought the feel of his, just as it sought air and food for survival.

She had almost been convinced that he had spent the night with another woman, as most men of power would have done. Different scenarios had played endlessly in her head. But, when she looked at him and he spoke of sleeping in the royal office, she detected the truth in his eyes.

The masculine smell of him overwhelmed her and she leaned naturally into him, ready for more of his kisses. Suddenly, it was as if she could feel him inside of her. If she closed her eyes she could almost detect his heart beating next to her chest, though his body was several inches away.

Lightly, he touched the sides of her breasts, denying their straining centers. Pleasure coursed through her racing blood, heating her even as the water cooled. Her mind followed the delectable movements of his fingers.

Nadja trembled before him. His hands glided everywhere, touching everything but her most heated parts. It was pure torture. Kneeling before her in the water, Olek slid his hands over her slender hips. He pulled at the waistband of her soaked pants and dropped them into the water, unveiling her naked body to his hungry gaze.

Her arms strained weakly as she tried to free herself, to be able to touch him in return. The fountain sprayed over his body, dampening his shirt and hair, soaking into his cotton pants. The material molded delectably to his firm body. She yanked harder against her restraints as she gasped for air.

Olek worked his way up her, massaging and caressing. Her hips jerked, searching desperately for his fingers. Her nipples arched for him. She was no longer in control of her own body. He drew nearer, letting her feel his warmth against her wet flesh. Her breasts thrust toward him, only able to rub the aching tips lightly to his shirt.

“Olek,” Nadja begged mindlessly. “Please.”

Olek grinned, a devilishly handsome look of pleasure. He placed his hand on the rock over her head, towering over her. The very domination of his presence excited her.

“Oh, please,” she moaned, her eyes closing as if that could counteract her aching need.

“Please?” Olek asked against her skin. Her body jerked in response.

“Yes, please,” she pleaded, desperate. She lifted her leg to touch his as she hung helplessly before him. Her calf rubbed insistently against his hip, trying to free him of his clothes. She managed to work her knee along the flesh of his waist. Nadja groaned loudly in gratification of the small triumph.

“What do you want?” he demanded hotly.

“Olek, please, don’t, just, oh!”

“Tell me,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want, Nadja.”

“I want you,” Nadja admitted softly. Her cheeks heated with a blush, though her body didn’t stop its aching search for more.

“What do you want from me? Tell me what you want.”

“I want…this.” She moaned, thinking she felt him move a little closer. Her leg pulled at him, wrapping around his firm ass as she tried to force him against her burning center. Every nerve in her screamed his name. Her blood raced, pumped faster by a heart that nearly leapt from her chest.

“Who do you want, Nadja?” Olek’s strong voice dipped low, almost to a growl.

“You.” She grew exceedingly desperate. This was a torturous game, but she wouldn’t have stopped it for anything. “I want you, Olek.”

“Who am I to you?” Olek persisted.

“You’re my…husband?” she answered, confused.

“And who is your husband?”

“A prince,” she said, even more so. Why was he talking when he should be kissing her? Her mouth strained for the feel of his, throbbing with need. Her body yearned for him to end this torture.

“That’s right, and you are my princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she growled before begging, “I’m your princess. Please, no more.”

Olek didn’t deny the soft request. Dropping his questioning, he let her pull him into her body. The rough material of his pants separated their heat as he fitted his arousal next to her.

Nadja gasped in the pleasure of it. She panted wildly, moaning and gasping with delight as he moved himself against her. Finally. “Oh, yes.”

“Do you want me inside of you, Nadja? Do you want me to claim you?”

“Yes, oh, yes, Olek,” she cried, growing louder. “Claim me. Come inside me. Please end this torture.”

Her arms tightened, wrenching against her restraints as she tried to force him closer. He leaned over to kiss her breast, sucking the water from the delicate bud, lapping into it with his rough tongue. She gasped with pleasure at the sensations his mouth caused. She felt like her body was falling off the side of a mountain. His hand moved down her flat stomach, stopping to test her wetness for him as he dipped a finger inside her tight sex.

“Olek, yes!” she breathed. Her hips jerked. Her pussy convulsed pleasurably as he stroked the clit. She was so close. He felt so good, and knew just the right way to touch her. The rough rocks ground into the tender flesh of her back. She didn’t care. “Ah, there, right there, mmm, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Tell me why you are so unhappy being my princess?” he murmured against her throat. He licked her racing pulse firmly with his caressing tongue as he drank the sweetness from her skin. “What are you running from?”

“I am not running from anything,” Nadja lied, breathless. Olek froze.

Nadja was too mindless to notice at first. Her body kept moving against his, rubbing herself to his hand. A moan came from her lips. Slowly, as she realized Olek no longer kissed her, she opened her eyes to look at him. To her utter horror and disappointment, he deliberately pulled away.

“A-ah, no,” she gasped.

Setting his hand over her head once more, he leaned so that her leg slid off his hip. Her foot splashed into the water. Staring deep into her troubled gaze, he frowned. Her chest heaved for air. “You said you would be honest and loyal.”

“Olek,” Nadja pleaded. “Come back. Don’t do this now. Please, just kiss me.”

“You said you would be honest,” he repeated, harder, as if fighting to gain his control.

Her body writhed in anguish. Nadja’s voice snapped in anger. “Olek!”

“Honesty,” Olek yelled, knowing that his tactics weren’t fair. But, in battle and in desire, nothing was fair. Her unreasonable feelings about his station weren’t fair. The fire in his denied body raged, making his words harsh, hollow. “You promised honesty.”

Her body called out to him, causing his loins to tighten even more with delectably sinful desires. The scent of her ready pussy was in his head, trying to fog his brain. It would be so easy to just finish his game.

“And you said you were a working man,” Nadja stated in return, her tone deadly in its softness. She struggled to be free, though this time it was clearly to punch him. She tried to kick him. Her voice never rising to a yell, she proclaimed, “You lie, I lie. I think it’s only just.”

“I didn’t lie,” Olek growled in mounting frustration. His voice rose, daring her to do the same. He wanted to see her explode, to show anything but this frighteningly emotionless calm that was reclaiming her eyes. Even her passion was being swallowed up into her hardening gaze.

“Untie me, Royal Highness,” Nadja ordered evenly. Only the puffing breaths lifting her chest in rapid succession gave away that she still desired him. Her blue eyes shot daggers in his direction from the porcelain depths of her face. “I am through talking to you. I’m going back to work.”

“Untie yourself,” he growled, tossing his hand into the air at her. His body hurt too badly at the moment to stop and think. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

Olek left her there, alone, afraid that if he touched her again, it would be to strangle her.

Nadja watched in amazement as Olek stormed off to the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him. She waited a long moment for him to come back and say he was joking. He didn’t. He really wasn’t going to help her down. She glanced around the room, realizing where they were. What if someone walked in? The queen never knocked. Or a servant? The very idea of such humiliation was almost too much to bear.

Nadja’s expression hardened in outrage, but she kept silent, swallowing her angry words deep inside until they burned as hotly as her passion. Her body aching, she braced her feet on the wet rocks. Their coarse surface gave her a hold as she inched up. Flinging her wrist several times, she managed to loosen one hand from the bonds. It came flying forward at the jerking movement. The second was much easier as she managed to get herself down. She glared bitterly at the bathroom door as she crawled over the ledge and out of the fountain.

Nadja left her clothes behind as she stumbled naked to their bedroom. Her thoughts were black as she cursed him in every way she knew how. She even invented a few new curses when she ran out.

“That is the last time you will ever touch me, prince,” she swore, using one of his best tunics as a towel and trampling it to the closet floor beneath her feet. The whole time she wished it was his face she smashed. She dressed quickly, still cursing in displeasure.

Eyeing the bed, she knew there was no way she could spend the night in it with him. So instead, she threw his pillow out the open doorway into the hall and slammed the door shut, locking it firmly behind her.

Olek stormed the length of his bathroom in frustration. His bride was more than he’d ever bargained for. Oh, but she was a stubborn little vixen. The image of her wet, restrained body stayed with him, making his arousal painfully hard when he would have it lessen.

Bitter, he shrugged out of his clothes and climbed into the natural hot spring tub. Closing his eyes, Nadja’s naked form danced before him, taunting him with what he couldn’t claim. His jaw tightened resentfully.

Olek lessened his sexual torment by stroking himself to a resentful release. Warm water and a rough palm was not the pleasure he wanted. When he was finished, the tension might have been gone from his hips, but the aching was still there in his body.

Drying off, he wrapped himself in a robe. His eyes sought the fountain. He hated to admit part of him hoped she would still be there, trapped, needing him. She wasn’t. Olek decided it was a good thing, as he would most likely be unable to control his actions.

Going to the bedroom, he stepped over his pillow in the hall, with a suspicious frown marring his already furrowed brow. Testing the door, he realized she’d locked him out of his own room. He glared at the locked barrier in irritation.

Olek banged on the door, but didn’t break through it. He growled out a bunch of multi-lingual curses before stomping away to sleep in his robe on the couch.

Chapter 15

The next day Nadja awoke way before the dawn—not that she could really claim lying in bed most of the night, after listening to Olek’s angry footsteps, as actually sleeping. She had shivered and kept quiet, trembling violently to hear his powerful voice cursing her through the door, the attempt much more effective than her efforts at swearing had been. A traitorous part of her had wanted him to break down the door and demand his husband’s rights from her. Instead, she’d heard Olek stomp away.

It wasn’t his anger that kept her up. It was the idea that he might leave the house to seek out someone less frustrating. She tried to tell herself she shouldn’t care. That was the way of powerful men. It was the way of the universes. Other wives lived with such affairs, and so could she.

Logic and emotion had never felt so out of sync.

She dressed and tiptoed from the bedroom. Olek slept on the couch. The sight caused a wave of relief to come over her. His robe parted over his chest, mocking her with the sculpted lines of his muscles, muscles she couldn’t touch. Tilting her head, she curiously tried to see along his thigh, but the robe hid his more private area from view.

Nadja didn’t wait for him to wake up, but instead went into her laboratory. She grabbed a book on herbs, her translator, paper and a pencil. Crossing silently over the marble hall, she tried to ignore the water fountain. Her pants and shredded shirt still floated in its moving waters.

She slipped out the front door with a whispered command and left.

Olek’s eyes opened and he gave a weary sigh. Blinking heavily, he automatically turned his attention to the front door. It was closed. Thinking he must have been dreaming, he stretched his tight arms over his head before standing. He needed to exercise. Prince Zoran would undoubtedly give him grief for missing practice for the last couple of days. His brother wouldn’t favor a new marriage as a reasonable excuse to be remiss in one’s training.

More than likely, Zoran was still out in the field every morning with the dawn, leaving his bride in bed while he went to drill the soldiers in battle exercises. From what the king had said about the unlucky state of all the princes’ marriages, Olek almost felt bad for the soldiers. Zoran was a hard taskmaster on his good days. If he was angry, the commander prince would be a monster to those under his training authority.

Olek chuckled, remembering Ualan covered in swamp muck the other night as he passed him in the hall.

Seeing Nadja wasn’t in the bedroom, he assumed she was in the atrium laboratory. As he dressed, he frowned to find his war council tunic damp and crumpled on the floor. Picking it up, he knew he would have to get it laundered immediately. The war council could meet at any time on the shortest of notice. Theirs was a land troubled by an uneasy truce. He should know. He had negotiated it.

Grabbing his sword, he strapped it over his shoulder and let it fall to his waist. Maybe a sour Zoran was just what his body needed. A day of that man’s workouts was enough to purge the foul temper out of even the most dedicated of soldiers.

Slipping out of the house without alerting Nadja, he tossed the tunic to the first servant he passed on his way to the practice field. The man nodded and took it straightway to the laundry without having to be asked.

Olek strode through the passageways and out the front gate. A courtyard surrounded the palace fortress, close to the surrounding valley, near where the breeding festival tents had been constructed. In the valley sat a small village under the protection of the House of Draig. The roads were made of rock, smoothed flat and even. The village was kept immaculately clean, built with roads and buildings symmetrically placed.

Olek loved his people almost as much as he loved his family. It was his duty to protect them the best he could. It was hard work and he took his duty very seriously, as did all the Draig princes. Sighing tiredly, he thought the burden seemed particularly heavy that morning.

The villagers’ homes were constructed of rock and wood. The population wore light linen tunics during the day much like the royal family, but minus the dragon crest and finer embroidery. No matter a person’s station in life, they were taken care of—even in times of war. If one man starved, then they all went without food. There was no special treatment for princes and nobles. In fact, he remembered a few times when his family skipped one meal a day so that rations would last longer. They had not asked anyone else to do so.

No Draig was left in need. Everyone was expected to pull their own weight as best they could, and very rarely did that not happen. They were a happy people, hardworking and honest.

Olek turned to look at the palace, thinking of his bride in her laboratory. From the ground, because of the carefully planned angle of the design, the palace looked like a mountain with a gate in the side. In times of war, even the iron gate could be camouflaged with rock to hide its exact location from the enemy. It was impenetrable. Should such a need arise, the castle could fit all of the villagers within its walls.

Olek found Zoran exactly where he thought the commander prince would be, standing, arms crossed, before the young soldiers, shouting gruff commands. Olek nodded solemnly at his brother’s attention. Zoran smiled a devilish older-brother grin, nodded back, and shouted the command for an attack. Olek blinked in surprise, but quickly swung his practice sword from his waist, as the whole of Zoran’s sparring battalion came to tackle him to the ground.

Chapter 16

Nadja spent her afternoon in the forest, crawling around on the ground, as she looked up the native plants in her book, and taught herself their Qurilixian names and properties. When a few of the young boys had stumbled upon her, she invited them to help search for plants. They made a great game of it, instantly trying to outdo the other for her attention by bringing her the most. One boy even cut his arm on a branch trying to climb up to a high peak to fetch her a clump of moss for her collection. She used a piece of the moss along with other wild herbs to make him a salve, and fashioned a makeshift bandage out of one of the colossal leaves. The boy wore it with pride—much to the envy of the others, who then tried to hurt themselves in similar ways.

By the time she headed home, her hands and knees were covered with red dirt, her hair was frizzed out of her bun and a small smile of accomplishment lined her lips. The boys ran ahead of her, spreading their tales of the new princess and displaying the war wounds they had bravely received in her service. Nadja tried not to laugh as she overheard their boasting.

“She’s the only princess that’s come out of the palace,” one man whispered not too quietly. “What was she like?”

“Strange,” a boy said. “She is collecting the yellow. We told her to be careful though and watched over her.”

“Good lad,” a woman answered.

“The yellow?” the first man asked. “Do you suppose she’s going to dose the prince with it? I know there are times my wife has threatened to do that to me when she says I’m talking too much.”

Laughter sounded. Curious to see who’d said it, Nadja turned to look in his direction and the man ducked behind a stone wall. Others merely smiled at her. She nodded her head toward them in return. She was used to the attention and thought nothing of the small gathering that seemed to follow her at a distance as she made her way back to her new home.

Her arms loaded with a bag full of plant samples, her book and translator, Nadja walked to Olek’s wing of the castle. The door opened on her command and she stepped in before ordering it to close behind her. She paused and took a deep breath, feeling the eyes were finally off her. Trying not to make any noise, she crept to the laboratory. Everything was as she’d left it that morning.

A half hour later, with everything transplanted and labeled to her liking, she went to the kitchen. To her surprise, she saw Olek wasn’t in his office. Curious, she searched the house. He was gone.

She washed her hands in the kitchen sink. Not bothering to change, she grabbed a plateful of fruit. Seeing a red foil bag in the back of the refrigerator with her name on it, she opened it and grimaced. It was chocolate. It smelled temptingly sweet, but she remembered all too well what it had felt like coming up. Nadja wouldn’t be trying that again anytime soon. She pushed the bag back into its corner.

With nothing to distract her from work, she went back to the laboratory. There was a feeling of safety being locked away with her thoughts, away from the public eye. She knew it was a false feeling. Her father would come for her eventually. But, until he did, maybe she could do some good for once in her life.

That evening when Olek stumbled in, worn out from fighting off wave after wave of attacks from Zoran’s men, Nadja was still with her plants. A few of her books were spread out over the dining table next to the kitchen wall, along with papers filled with her tight handwriting. He saw she’d been writing in his language and smiled to see a few misspelled words and grammatical errors.

Tiredly, he dropped food into the fish tanks. The blue fish came to watch him, blinked at him, and then followed the wave of his hand as if he was a friend. Almost too exhausted to move, Olek went to take a bath. Nadja was still inside her room when he finished, the door shut to him. The books were gone and the table was cleared off.

Olek was almost sorry he had allowed the door to be built on the atrium, since he could think of no excuse to go in there. It wasn’t probable she would want him anywhere near her after what happened the night before. He couldn’t rightly blame her.

To his everlasting shame, he remembered leaving her tied up and helpless on the fountain. He’d been so angry, his body past the point of the most virtuous man’s tolerance. Her begging voice echoed in his head. His body’s suffering was his own fault. She had asked him to fulfill their needs, had urged him to kiss her. But, Olek knew that if he wanted a happy marriage, she needed to accept him fully. Falling into passion would be so easy, so mindlessly wonderful, but he wanted more from her. He wanted that connection he knew could be there—the melding of their souls. Perhaps he was a romantic, or a fool, but he’d always been fascinated by the stories of married couples claiming to hear each other’s thoughts and feelings. There was a void inside him, growing worse now that his crystal was gone, that he needed Nadja’s spirit to fill.

So many times he’d reached to his neck to feel the stone that was no longer there. It had been a part of him since birth. He couldn’t say he missed the stone, for that would mean he wouldn’t have Nadja, but he missed the familiarity of it and the hope it had inspired in him as he waited to find her.

Pouring a glass of alien wine and taking some papers off his desk, he sat on his couch before the fire. His pillow was still there from that morning and he knew he would more than likely spend the night where he was.

Scratching the back of his head, as he read a particularly frustrating document from the Lithor Republic located across the star system—it took twelve pages of scrambled wording before he figured out they were merely requesting the exports of ore and wilddeor meat—when he heard an excited yell from within Nadja’s sanctuary. Startled, he looked up in surprise.

Nadja came rushing out. Her clothes were covered in dried, red mud and her hair was kinked eccentrically around her dirt-smudged face. Her eyes found him instantly, as she proclaimed, “I need a guinea pig.”

“A what kind of pig?” Olek frowned. Sacred forest, she is even lovely covered in dirt!

His body leapt with the need to kiss her smiling face.

“A test dummy,” she said in distraction, coming for him.

“A what?” He grew wary at her determined look. He couldn’t so easily forget the green acid she’d made the day before because she’d mistranslated a word.

“Just hold still,” Nadja said coming to sit beside him. “This won’t hurt a bit. I’d use it on myself, but I couldn’t wake myself up.”

Olek saw her hand reaching for him and jerked back in dismay. Glancing down, he saw she held a green plant with a yellow center. The plants were found in abundance on the forest floor around the village. One smell of the pollen and he’d…

Olek reacted too late.

Nadja pinched and rubbed the plant beneath Olek’s nose and he instantly dropped onto her lap. She jolted, feeling the weight of his head buried in-between her thighs, face down. His breath heated into her flesh as he slept.

“Huh,” she whispered in amazement, eying his head and then the bud pressed between her fingertips. Her nerves danced wickedly at his weight against her thighs. The image of his dark hair against her shot vivid sparks of pleasure throughout her limbs. Weakly, she said, “It really does work fast.”

Pushing him up, she trembled at the rush of desire in her veins. She had tried to keep herself busy to ignore her feelings for him. For a moment, in her excitement about trying her discovery, she had forgotten she was mad at him. Now she looked at him and studied his handsome, motionless face. According to her notes, the size of the single flower would only knock a man of his size out for about ten minutes.

Olek’s lips were parted in silent breath and she couldn’t resist. Lightly, she kissed him, letting her mouth feel his. Her hand found a hold on his sturdy neck, resting over his pulse. Her tongue hesitantly edged out to try and discover more of him. Slowly, she let her fingers trail down his chest only to stop nervously on his hip. He tasted like wine and she nearly swooned.

This was hardly the professional experiment she’d intended.

Shaking herself, she pulled her lips away. Her heart beat erratically. It wouldn’t do to get caught molesting him while he slept. Gingerly, she opened the jar of antidote cream clutched in her non-flower hand and smeared some beneath his nose.

Olek blinked, jerking as he became aware. It took a moment for his eyes to focus on her but when they did he glared angrily in realization. Swiping at the cream under his nose, he rubbed it off.

“What did you do?” he asked furiously, as he darted forward to grab her hand with the squished bud.

Nadja blinked in surprise at the suddenness of his movements. She couldn’t hide the fact that her pulse raced beneath his curling fingers. “What? You’re not hurt.”

“What did you do to me?” Olek demanded, suspiciously tasting his lips.

“I just needed to try this cream,” Nadja began. His hard glare cut her off and he shook her wrist.

“I am not your…guine-ah pig dummy.” Olek growled. “You won’t experiment on me. What did you do?”

“It’s harmless,” she said, lifting up the small jar. “Look, it’s just an herbal cream. You could practically eat it and be fine. It would taste horrible, I imagine, but it won’t kill you.” She bent her index finger into the cream before rubbing to her forearm next to where he held her wrist. “See. Harmless.”

He eyed the cream smear and then her. Again, he tasted his lips as if he could taste her on his mouth. Nadja colored slightly, but admitted to nothing.

“Your mother mentioned the sleeping flowers the other day,” she explained weakly. “And the villagers had warned me when they saw me collecting samples when I was shopping with her. So I looked it up in that book I took from the library. The book said that soldiers who fall in battle into a patch of sleeping flowers are often rendered helpless. The enemy can, you know, get them in their sleep and they become easy targets. It also said that if you are not found there is the possibility of starving to death before the pollen cycle goes dormant.”

Olek’s brow rose on his face, but he was at least listening to what she had to say. “In the past it has been a problem, but we have learned to get around it. Often, forest battles are avoided unless necessary.”

Falling into the comfortable familiarity of science, she continued, “You can’t very well kill off the plant species without severely endangering the forest ecosystem and I am against the extermination of any plant or animal life in most instances. Though, I did look at the possibility to weigh options should it…well, here, come and see, I drew a chart.”

Nadja tried to stand, but his grip tightened. Nadja looked in surprise at the fury still boiling in him. She didn’t think he would be that mad. Her father used his new concoctions on her all the time, ever since she was small, and she’d never been hurt. All right, he had given her an annoying case of warts once, but he did eventually fix it.

“First, I’ll have your promise you will never do anything like that again,” he stated.

“Why?” she asked, thoroughly confused. “Do you think I would do anything to hurt you?”

The idea stung. She was nothing like her father, was she? She looked at the cream. A sickening feeling came over her. Maybe she was.

But she wanted to do good, to help. She didn’t do it for profit or power.

“Maybe not intentionally,” he answered, his voice dark. “But you don’t know what you are dabbling with. Remember the green acid? What if you had killed me?”

Nadja gasped. The green acid had been an honest mistake when she had been testing for poisonous properties in one of the plants. He didn’t trust her at all. He thought her stupid. It was worse than a slap on the face.

A knock on the door stopped her heated reply. It was late in the evening and she wondered who could be interrupting them.

Olek frowned, standing to answer the summons. Turning to her, he said, “This conversation isn’t finished.”

She paled to see he was extremely irate with her.

Olek opened the door. A man stood there, hat in hand. Nadja came around the side of the fountain to smile politely at their visitor. He nodded to the prince, and acknowledged politely, “Draea Anwealda.”

Olek nodded back, wondering what the man wanted. He didn’t have to wait long. The man limped forward and bowed to Nadja.

“Princess Nadja,” the man said, his Old Star language words strongly accented.

She waited, smiling curiously at him. When he didn’t move, she waved him forward. “Hello, welcome.” The man smiled in relief, limping over to her.

Olek frowned, following slowly behind. She purposefully ignored her husband.

With more motions than words, the man explained that he’d injured his foot and it wasn’t healing. The boys from the forest had told him of her miracle leaf and he wished to trade her for one so that he could better tend his farmland.

Nadja glanced at Olek and frowned to see him inching closer to listen in. Leading the man back to the sun room laboratory, she shut the door firmly behind her.

Olek scowled, scratching the back of his head in confusion. If the man hadn’t been so old, he would have barged in after her. However, he didn’t want to start any more rumors about the royal marriages than were already circulating throughout the village.

Sitting on the couch, he waited. Not fifteen minutes later, Nadja led the man out of the atrium. He was no longer limping and he had a wide grin of appreciation on his face. He took her hand enthusiastically in his and shook it. Nadja leaned over and kissed his cheek. The man almost jumped out of his skin in embarrassment, looking to see what her husband would do to him for the breech.

Olek merely smiled at him, though it was a hard, tight smile.

The man bowed happily to Olek and murmured, “Many thanks, Draea Anwealda, many thanks.”

Olek stood, letting the man out. When he returned, he asked, “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

“Yes, I do mind,” she said. “It’s none of your business.”

“Nadja,” he warned.

“Weren’t you just yelling at me a minute ago? Something about you not trusting me? Or was it that you think I’m too stupid and would kill you by accident?”

“What are you up to?” Olek asked, suddenly realizing that he may have intense feelings for his wife, but the crystal didn’t make him know her. There was a wealth of secrets behind her eyes he needed to discover. The passion was there. The connection was shaky at best.

“Come sit on the couch and I’ll tell you,” she purred with mock sweetness.

Olek grew wary, seeing her expression. There was an impending scheme lurking within her. He moved to sit by her side.

Nadja licked her lips, coming closer to his mouth with hers. He tensed. Her hand slowly worked its way up his strong biceps. He froze in expectation. He anticipated her light touch all over his body. His cock lurched in excitement, becoming full.

“I was working,” she said, blinking innocently. “And I just earned five hafoe eggs for my breakfast.”

Olek furrowed his brow, confused. Her mouth hovered closer. Her hand worked to the side of his face. He tensed, waiting.

“As for you and your distrust, I have two words,” she murmured softly. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet…?” Too late he saw the large plant in her hands as she crushed it under his nose. With a curse dying on his lips, he was out again.

This time, Nadja pushed him over onto his pillow.

Taking his papers out from underneath him, she stacked them neatly on the floor, grabbed his glass of wine for herself and went to bed, leaving him fast asleep on the couch.

It felt great helping the farmer and she wasn’t about to let Olek ruin it for her. Although she wasn’t sure what a hafoe was, in the end it didn’t really matter. She’d earned her pay.

Chapter 17

Nadja was missing when Olek awoke, but he was in too foul of a mood to go and look for her. He was dejected, confused. There was so much she wouldn’t tell him about herself and he didn’t know exactly where he had gone wrong with her. That night in the tent had held so much promise for their future, but it had all just come spiraling down since.

His body was sore from Zoran’s thorough workout and he decided to skip his exercise yet again. Let his brother take his foul temper out on someone else for a while. Olek had his own demons to deal with.

Smiling sadly, he saw he wasn’t the only one hiding out. Ualan stared out from the shores of Crystal Lake. Olek followed his brother’s gaze and glanced over the waters. The surface shimmered like glass, reflecting the light in waving patterns.

Beneath the surface, low on the lakebed’s floor was where their sacred crystals formed and grew. Whenever a son was born, the father would dive, grab the first piece he could find, and give it to the baby. From then until marriage, the crystal protected the son and gave him power. When the son married and the crystal was crushed, it transferred some of that power to his wife and secured their joined fates.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t just the sons. If a rare Draig female, like the queen, was born, she would get a crystal as well. Olek assumed it worked the same for female children, though his mother was the only female born Draig, so there wasn’t much basis for comparison. As a boy, he’d asked the queen about her crystal and had been met with his parents’ laughter. They never did explain the joke to him.

Once his—or her—crystal was destroyed, a Draig’s life was only whole with their other half. Without their mate, they would feel hollow.

“You missed practice again, brother,” Olek said, looking down at where Ualan sat against a giant tree.

Ualan smiled, having assuredly sensed his approach. Olek did nothing to hide it. His brother lifted his hand in greeting, not bothering to explain his absence. He didn’t need to. It was written on his face. Like Olek, his other half was fractured and his life wasn’t whole.

Ualan bared a strong resemblance to Olek, with the same build and same brown hair. The main difference was that Ualan had solid blue eyes whereas Olek had green.

The nearby stream filled the silence with its flowing water. Olek, always the more amiable of the two, managed a wry laugh as he took a seat next to his brother. He plucked a weed from the nearby grasses and placed it between his lips to chew. “I see we are both cursed.” A sofliar tweeted loudly above them. Olek glanced up at the clouds moving over the green skies. He continued, with a bit of a sulk to his words, “Or else you wouldn’t be avoiding your duty or me mine.”

Ualan didn’t bother to deny it. “My wife has proclaimed herself a slave. Since she’s the one to indenture herself, I cannot release her.”

Olek sighed. “I cannot help you there. The law states clearly that only she can seek the royal pardon.”

He gave his brother a meaningful look. Olek would pardon his new sister in an instant if only to ease Ualan’s torment.

“She won’t,” Ualan responded to the unasked question. “And I have no idea how to persuade her.”

“Does she know who you are? Does she know it is you who can help clear her?”

“Always trying to act the part of the ambassador,” Ualan said.

“I am the ambassador.”

“I have no wish for her to know who I am yet, not before she admits she is my wife.” Ualan’s shoulders lifted with a tired stretch and he rubbed his eyes. “I would not have her considering my royal birth. That would defeat the purpose of the masks. Gardener or king, it is the same to the crystal bearers. And if I cannot find a way to tell her she is a princess, I’m not sure how I’ll tell her I’m a dragon-shifter.”

“I think our king is considering never doing business with Galaxy Brides again,” Olek said. “For they have sent all his sons and nephews mor-forwyns.”

“That they have,” Ualan agreed.

“Is it true she announced she was leaving you right after breaking your crystal?” Olek inquired.

Ualan’s grumble was accompanied by a weary nod. “Woe that Morrigan should find a spaceport.” The burden of his frown deepened.

“Woe if she found a spaceport of our enemy.” Olek gave a meaningful nod. He had spoken with his father, and it would seem that whoever broke into the offices had been searching the palace’s blueprints. When Ualan glanced over in surprise, he said, “There have been rumors that our brides have not been seen within the castle.”

“And who would dare to spread such a rumor?” Ualan’s eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Supporters of the Var would be my guess. Our father has decreed a feast in honor of his new daughters to coronate them. We have a week to convince them.”

“A week? Has he lost his mind? I do not relish the idea of our brides meeting. I should not like to see them banded together.” Ualan grumbled under his breath. As the future king, his eldest brother would feel the weight of that responsibility on his shoulders. Olek didn’t envy him, though his job was just as troublesome. “I can’t hide the fact she is a slave. I can’t bring her out.”

“Ah, so you didn’t hear?” Olek let a soft smile come over him. “Our mother has started a rumor amongst her maids that Princess Morrigan does it out of embarrassment for how she acted after binding you with the crystal. Soon it will be common news. She will be respected for purging her honor.”

Queen Mede’s diplomatic ways were a great complement to their gruff warrior father. The others always said he’d gotten his tact from her. Though, Olek liked to think he had enough of his father in him to make him a formidable opponent on the battlefield. But, come to think of it, he’d bet his mother would fiercely take out the entire Var kingdom if given a chance.

“The king fears that the Var have spies within our walls.” Olek turned his thoughts back to the serious topic at hand. “That is why he has ordered us to get our affairs in order. He wants to show the people our family is whole and the rumors against us are merely rumors.”

“And you, Ambassador?”

“I was heading to the shadowed marshes before the wedding began but I couldn’t get away from festival duties. The cat-shifters have become uncommonly bold.” Olek thought of Nadja and wondered how he could convince her to pretend she was in love with him for one evening. He wasn’t sure it could be done. “I can sense it in them. They plan something.”

“Hmm.”

“I know something that will cheer you, brother.” Olek suddenly chuckled, brightening for a moment. “Yusef’s bride turned his own blade against his manhood. He was honor bound to put her in chastisement.”

The brothers shared a robust laugh. Their amusement rang out around them.

“Did she…?” Ualan snorted.

“No.” Olek laughed harder, barely able to catch his breath. “Just a nick.”

“I hear Zoran’s princess screams like a tree witch every time he’s tried to touch her,” Ualan said. “I’m glad he lives on the far side of the palace.”

Olek nodded, taking the weed from his mouth and tossing it on the ground. He watched it roll away in the breeze. “Mother is quite upset by it all. It seems Zoran felt compelled to disfigure his wife and cut off all her hair. The castle is humming with the rumor, and no one has seen her about the palace.”

“That makes no sense.” Ualan was obviously perplexed. “Zoran would not shame his wife.”

“Our father says he saw it. He’s upset because of the celebration.” Olek gestured helplessly. Nothing about this year’s marriages made sense to him. “My wife has these female contraptions, I’ll see if one won’t grow the poor woman’s hair back for her.”

“Yeah, if what you say is true, we cannot let more shame come to the family. We’ll be lucky to get through the night without one of our brides trying to kill us,” Ualan said.

Olek nodded resignedly.

“And you, brother?” Ualan turned to study him. “What ails your bride that she won’t have you?”

Olek moved to stand. He held his hand down and helped pull Ualan to his feet. How could he answer when he didn’t know himself? Nadja was a mystery that he didn’t know how to solve. He couldn’t discover her secrets by asking or torturing or yelling. She kept herself and her past well-guarded.

“I truly don’t know,” Olek said after a time, “but I think I am the most cursed of us all. My little solarflower wants nothing to do with me. At least your women fight you. Mine will barely even speak to me, let alone yell. How can I win a battle that won’t be fought?”

“A battle can always be fought, brother,” Ualan said wisely. “It’s finding the right weapon that proves most difficult.”

The brothers walked through the forest, silently agreeing to go around the long way, far from Zoran and the exercise field.

“Ah, curse the married life anyway,” Olek grumbled. “At least with warriors you can always draw your sword and lop off their heads when they get too aggravating. With a woman, what can you do? They should have sent directions along with these vixens.”

Ualan agreed with a laugh. “That they should have, little brother. That they certainly should have.”

Chapter 18

Nadja doubled over in intense pain, pushing deeply at her stomach as she begged any god who would listen to end her suffering. She rocked for a moment on the floor, trying to catch her breath. She had sensed its coming. She felt like such a wimp, as she again held her breath in an effort to stop the unbearable agony.

Nadja hated her menstrual cycle. Ever since she was a young girl, the cramps had been unbearable. Groaning, she looked around the bathroom. There were no pain pills, no handheld medic unit, no bottle of New Earth scotch. Ok, so the scotch wasn’t the ideal treatment, but anything had to be better than writhing on the bathroom floor. Hearing the outside door open, she tried not to whimper.

“Nadja?” she heard Olek call.

Nadja’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, but it hurt too much to stand. Grimacing in determination, she yelled in irritation, “What?”

“Where are you?”

Nadja flinched. She finally managed to push herself up, if only to keep from being discovered in such a vulnerable state. Wiping her teary eyes, she ground out, “Leave me alone.”

“Nadja?” Olek’s voice was closer.

She glared at him as he came through the bathroom door. “Don’t you ever knock?”

“Nadja, what’s wrong? What happened?” Olek started for her in concern and she flinched.

“It’s nothing, go away,” Nadja muttered, trying to turn from him. The pain steadily got worse and she watched her face pale in the reflective surface of the mirror. She wanted to scream but she bit her tongue.

“Nadja, has something happened? Are you hurt?”

She felt his hand on her shoulders and stiffened. He began to massage her and, oh, but it felt really good. Her eyes closed. Her body swayed and she silently willed his hand to move lower on her back.

A light, passionate moan left his lips and he began kissing the back of her neck. Nadja tensed in shock. When she turned around, his eyes were glassy and he moved as if he would kiss her mouth next. She frowned, about ready to yell at him, when his hands cupped her face. Undeterred by her ill humor, his lips met with hers.

Nadja jumped a little in surprise at his instant passion. Not that she minded terribly when his mouth moved with such unrelenting skill. But, her breasts were swollen to the point of exploding and her stomach throbbed with a horrific pain. She moaned and hit his shoulder.

Olek growled in primal response, deepening the onslaught of his gently probing mouth. Nadja gasped as his hands found her backside, eagerly lifting her up only to set her on the side of the counter. She hit his arm and then again, harder. He wouldn’t stop. His lips moved more aggressively.

Nadja ripped her mouth from his and gasped for air. His lips instantly found her neck and sucked hard at the flesh there. Weak with growing pleasure, she ordered, “Olek, stop.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. His hands were on his pants, undoing the laces.

“Olek,” Nadja said louder, wondering what had gotten into him. He was senseless. His eyes opened slightly, completely hazed over.

Olek leaned as if to again kiss her parted lips. Nadja pulled back. She hit him hard on the shoulder. He blinked in confusion. His eyes cleared and he looked at her, puzzled.

“What…?” Olek started to pull away.

“What is wrong with you?” Nadja asked with a look akin to dismay. “Didn’t you hear me?”

Olek furrowed his brow. He looked down at his pants around his ankles. His cock was bare and reaching toward her. Nadja glared at him.

“How did I get…?” He quickly picked up his pants and tied them at his waist, clearing his throat in discomfiture.

Nadja hopped down from the counter, pressing her fist into her hip as she did so. Glaring at him, the hormones making her surlier than usual, she demanded, “What came over you? You were all…weird.”

Olek cleared his throat. “Sorry. It’s…you’re breeding aren’t you?”

“Breeding?” Nadja’s cheeks flamed in a combination of apprehension and mortification. “No, I’m not!”

Olek let loose a deep breath, smiling sheepishly. “I can tell.”

Her frown only deepened. “I’m not pregnant,” Nadja denied hotly. “How dare you.”

Olek chuckled. “Not carrying, bleeding.”

Nadja tried to skirt past him, mortified. “I’m not discussing this with you and stop calling it that.”

His hand stopped her and he rubbed a persistent trail against her arm. Olek’s gaze threatened to turn cloudy again.

“I need a medical unit,” Nadja stated, seeing his ever-growing reaction.

Olek blinked again, clearly doing his best to concentrate on her words. “A what…?”

“A medical unit,” she whispered, trying to meet his hazed eyes with her calm ones. Seeing that he was about to pounce mindlessly on her again, she added, “Or a medical booth. Fast.”

“Are you hurt?” His eyes instantly cleared in his worry.

“Just cramps.” Seeing his nostrils sniffing at her, she pulled back. “If I can use a medical booth or a handheld unit it will take care of the pain. Please tell me you have one. If not then Lophibian slug cream? Poxian pills? Any type of pain reliever? I’d even settle for the Hippon witchdoctor ceremony at this point.”

Olek nodded and awkwardly adjusted his waistband. The full height of his arousal pressed against the pants. “Yes, we have a medical booth. I’ll take you.”

He led her from the bathroom. Nadja followed him out the door into the hall. She kept a steady eye on him as he led her forward. Her cramps became slightly worse and she frowned, glancing down at her waist.

Before she could look back up, Olek had her pinned against a wall. His hand was on her breast and his mouth was seeking her throat. Nadja moaned in surprise. He found her thigh and lifted it along his waist so that he could press between her legs. His hard length rubbed against her, still at full erection. Hot sparks of pleasure erupted all over her skin.

Nadja gasped, looking around the passageway. His wild passion was overwhelming, but she couldn’t help noticing they were in danger of being caught. She hit his arm, insisting, “Olek, stop it!”

“Nadja,” he breathed hotly to her throat and she thought she might swoon from the rush of desire that overcame her. “Just…a little longer, please. I want to kiss you.”

Olek’s body stirred with a depth of uncontrolled feelings he’d never experienced before. They were raw, potent and primal. The dragon inside him threatened to shift if he didn’t fulfill the needs of the man. He couldn’t have sex in dragon form and shifting would ease his physical ache. Closing his eyes, he breathed her in. The pheromone he detected lit a fire in him. The scent of her filled his head and Olek took another steadying breath. It was hard to concentrate.

“I just need to kiss you,” he said against her neck, unable to catch his breath. He felt his eyes burn, knowing if he pulled back to look at her they’d be filled with liquid gold. So help him if she tried to run right now. The pheromones were bad enough, but to add a chase? A man could only take so much.

For the Draig, the woman’s breeding time was almost regarded as sacred. The pheromones a wife’s body emitted could make husbands mad with lust, and the need to procreate—or so the legends had said. If strong enough, it turned them into true beasts. And, from what he’d been told, although women were not made to conceive at such a time it didn’t stop the effect. Draig seed could stay within the woman, waiting inside her until her new cycle, causing a belated pregnancy.

But Olek wasn’t thinking about procreation at the moment. He wanted much more than that. His body had been denied since their wedding night and the full effects of such deprivation surged forth to urge him on.

“Mmm,” he moaned, fighting his innate desire to take her like an animal in heat. The dragon inside him wanted him to lay claim to his woman. His fingers prickled, threatening a shift so that his talons might cut through the material keeping them apart.

He nipped at her shirt, as he kissed a hot trail with her breast cupped in his palm. His hips thrust wildly into her, grinding against her clothes. He wanted nothing more than to bend her over on the floor and take her wildly from behind.

“Mmm, Nadja.” Olek groaned against her nipple as it peaked beneath the cotton material of her shirt, right between his lips. His hand was at her back, twisting insistently into her waistband, ready to strip her of her clothes.

“Olek,” Nadja hit his arm harder to get his attention. “Oleeek!”

Olek abruptly stopped at the panicked sound of her voice. Nadja heaved for breath. He forced all traces of the dragon out of his features before pulling away from her body.

Panting, he gazed steadily into her eyes, unashamed of his actions. “Tell me to take you back to our bedroom.” He dipped forward to kiss and lick playfully at her parted lips. “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll make you scream my name for hours.”

Nadja shook her head in denial. “Take me to the medic unit.”

Olek grinned, despite the raging fire in his body. He let her go. “Perhaps that would be best.”

The medical wing was deserted when they arrived. There was a row of large, empty beds against one wall, a reception desk by the other along with rows of glass cases. In the back were two private exam rooms and an operating room.

Olek glanced at one of the empty beds, his eyes lit with suggestion. Nadja instantly shook her head in denial.

“Don’t even think it,” she said under her breath, moving toward the private rooms to put distance between them.

“But…” He affected a wounded expression at her heated denial.

She held up her hand to stop his advance. “Where is the unit?”

He lifted his jaw indicating behind her.

Nadja backed away from him before turning to check the backrooms. The last room had a standard medical unit. He heard her turn it on before moving to follow. Coming inside the room just in time to see her grab a long, thin instrument off a nearby table, he watched her jam it lightly into the unit’s side panel. The controls slipped open and she smiled in satisfaction.

Olek frowned, reaching to take the instrument from her before she ruined their medical equipment. “What are you doing? We only have one of those.”

“I’m not breaking it,” she muttered under her breath, biting her lip as she reprogrammed the machine. She paused to press at her stomach as if willing the pain to lessen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to…?” Olek tilted his head to the side to eye her firm ass as she leaned over. He licked his lips.

“Stay back, barbarian.” Nadja glanced at him only long enough to direct him a frown. Her words lacked heat.

Olek shrugged, extremely disappointed.

“When is the last time you’ve had this upgraded?” she asked. “I haven’t seen this model for years.”

“Are you a medical booth technician?” he inquired, curiously. She did appear to know what she was doing.

“No.” Nadja finished. Pushing the panel back into place, she said, “There.”

Standing, she climbed between the two plates of the machine and reached around the corner to press a button before drawing her hand to her side. The plates came forward, trapping her within.

The cloud of desire lifted from Olek’s one-tracked brain and he could again function rationally. The pheromone scent was gone. The machine beeped once and opened. Nadja climbed out, sighing in relief.

“Are you better?” Nadja asked wryly. “I know I am.”

Olek frowned. Indeed he was recovered. The desire was still there, but no longer the desperate urge to mate. “What did you do?”

“I took my womanly away,” she smiled brightly. “No blood, no pain, no mess. I should market that little adjustment trick to women all over the stars. I would be a starrillionaire!”

Nadja indeed looked very proud of herself at the moment.

“You mean you made yourself sterile?” Olek asked in alarm. He wasn’t so pleased.

“Well, yes, I suppose you could look at it like that,” she answered.

Olek marched forward and pointed into the machine. “Get back in there and fix it immediately.”

“What? The unit? It’s not broken,” Nadja answered, confused. “I just had to reprogram it so it would—”

“Fix your body,” Olek demanded angrily. His face contorted and he took her arm, urging her inside the medical unit. She jerked away.

“What —?” Nadja gasped suddenly as if finally understanding what he referred to. “I can’t change it back. It doesn’t work like that.”

Olek felt as if she’d kicked him. She didn’t want his children.

“It’s only for this month. It won’t last,” she said. “It’s never permanent.”

That eased him some, but he was still hurt.

“I thought we said we wouldn’t have children right away,” she defended against his silence. “I had no idea you wanted to knock me up so quickly.”

“Knock you?” he questioned in disgust. “I have never hit you!”

“What? No. Knock me up, make me in the family way, get me pregnant.”

Olek scowled. Grumbling, he said, “Don’t call it that.”

“Okay,” she sighed, shaking her head. “It’s just a saying. I didn’t mean anything by it. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing.” His expression darkened and he knew he should just walk away before he said something he’d regret later.

“Olek?” Nadja said in concern, coming after him.

“Let’s just go home. It’s late and I have a lot of work to finish before tomorrow.”

Olek stayed silent as he led her the rest of the way home. He tried not to glance at the spot in the hall where only moments before he had been pawing her like a mindless animal. Once home, Olek still said nothing as he went to his office.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you just started a womanly of your own,” she muttered to herself, clearly having no indication of how good his shifter hearing really was.

Chapter 19

Sleep did not fix their marital discord and Olek was still irritable the next morning. Nadja stayed out of his way. He left with a case full of documents around mid-morning without saying more than two words to her. Nadja let him go. There was nothing she could do about his mood. She told herself she’d be content to work in her lab.

But that was before the patients started coming. Apparently, word had spread in the village that Princess Nadja could cure naturally, just as well as a medical unit. The villagers brought her everything from skin disorders, to a burn, to cuts and scrapes. When she asked why they didn’t just go to the doctor, one of the women told her that the man with the limp had proclaimed her touch to be a miracle and now everyone wanted to see for themselves what she could do. Nadja suspected a few of the wounds had been self-inflicted—nothing too dangerous, just cuts and scrapes that really didn’t need medical attention.

The superstitious villagers, for one reason or another, all seemed reluctant to try a medic unit, which was still considered a new contraption to the planet. They kept her busy until the late hours of evening. Sending the last one out the door, Nadja sighed, shaking her head in wonder.

Olek had not come home and she was too tired to wait up for him. Taking a quick shower, she crawled into bed and was asleep within seconds.

“What exactly are you doing?” Nadja demanded, her eyes narrowing in displeasure.

She stood in the doorway looking into the bathroom. She’d just woken up and was going to clean her teeth when she discovered Olek on the floor. He was surrounded by the contents of her beauty bag.

“Please tell me you are not putting on makeup,” she demanded dryly, shaking her head in dismay.

Olek arched a brow, pressing his lips together at her statement. He eyed her beauty devices with an avid curiosity, trying to snap them open and make them work. “Zoran’s wife needs to grow her hair. Do you have something for that?”

“That is an eyelash curler.” Nadja reached over to snatch it from his hands. “I don’t think that’s going to help you.”

Olek picked up a pair of laser tweezers and began playing with them. Taking them between his fingers, he pushed at it to make the laser snap as the jaws opened and shut with loud clicks. Nadja took it from him. He gave her a small grimace, before smiling slightly as he picked up a blush tinter.

“Your brother, Prince Zoran?” Nadja sighed, leaning over as she began putting the devices back into the beauty bag the way she liked them.

“Yes.” Olek stood. He held the blush tinter in his hand and clicked through the color selector. Absently, he said, “It seems she did something and he had to cut off her hair as a punishment.”

“That would be Pia, wouldn’t it?” Nadja said, remember what the queen had told her. She frowned. Pia was perhaps one of the most beautiful women on the ship. She had the prettiest blonde hair Nadja had ever seen. “Why would he do that to his wife?”

Olek shrugged. “I hear she shamed him at the Breeding Festival.”

“What kind of monster is your brother?” Nadja huffed, unable to imagine what she’d do if Olek tried to do anything to her appearance without her permission. Placing everything in the bag, she stood. Well, almost everything. She gave a dramatic roll of the eyes as she held the beauty bag open for Olek to drop her blush tinter into it.

Olek frowned but gave the contraption back. “Do you really need all this stuff?”

“Yes,” she defended as if it were the stupidest question in the world.

“But, you’re pretty,” he offered, confused.

“Thanks,” came her wry answer.

“Well, do you have anything for Pia or not?”

“Yes.” Nadja put her things back where they belonged and went underneath one of the counters. “Here. It’s a hair extender. It will grow her hair back in about an hour or so.”

Olek took the hair-growing apparatus and frowned. It had a giant suction cup on one end, a funnel on the other and more buttons than a computer. He looked it over. Then, glancing curiously over his wife’s body, he motioned meaningfully at her lower stomach and asked in manly curiosity, “Can you use it anywhere?”

Nadja again rolled her eyes at him. He grinned.

“How does it work?” he asked when she refused to dignify his last question with a response.

Nadja smiled. Suddenly, she had an idea. She really would like to see some of the other women—someone who understood her when she spoke, and whose voices weren’t marred with a handsome burring accent. “Why don’t I take it to her and help her?”

“Would you?” Olek asked, sounding very relieved as if he hadn’t relished playing the role of hairdresser.

“Sure,” Nadja said, in girlish excitement. She didn’t have a chance to make many friends before leaving the medic ship and, though they never really talked in depth, Pia had seemed very nice. “It doesn’t use a lifecell so I’ll have to charge it today, but I can go tomorrow. I wouldn’t mind visiting with her. I haven’t seen any of the other women since we arrived here.”

“Perfect.” Olek nodded. He looked her over, before turning away from her. Clearing his throat, he said, “I must go now. I have to meet with the king and finish going over trade agreements.”

“So, you’re not still mad at me?” Nadja inquired, biting at her lips. She wished she could take the words back because his face became a blank mask.

“No,” Olek replied softly, sighing. The words were unconvincing, but he added, “I’m not mad.”

Olek didn’t like thinking about what she’d done in the medical booth. He wasn’t mad. How could he be mad at her alleviating her pain? But he was hurt. She didn’t seem at all interested in having his children and that fact tore at his heart. The life he’d dreamed of since before he could remember was slipping away. Marriage was not what he’d been taught to expect.

Chapter 20

Olek stayed with his father for the rest of the day, and Nadja refused to make the mistake of opening the door to the persistent knocks of villagers again. She had no desire to be the new village doctor, or more correctly, the village miracle worker. The knocks didn’t stop until late in the evening, after which she climbed into bed alone. Although, she did awake several times in the night swearing she heard more knocks, only to determine it was nothing but the sound chasing her in her dreams.

Olek was home when she came out of the bedroom the next morning. He reminded her to go to Pia’s, giving her directions to Zoran’s home. He was quiet as he once more gathered up his case and left, telling her he wouldn’t be home until late.

Nadja hated his inattention, but felt she had no right to complain. When he did give her attention, she batted him away. She had secrets she didn’t want to share. He kept secrets she desperately wanted to know. If they tried to communicate she would make him mad, or he would make her mad, or they’d make each other mad. It was a strange cycle they couldn’t seem to break out of. Throw denied passion onto their marital discord, and Nadja was left staring at a giant mess of a relationship with a stranger who she wanted but didn’t really know.

The idea of visiting Pia lifted her spirits some, as she packed her charged hair extender and other random beauty devices in a bag. Afternoon could barely come fast enough. The knocking sounded again, and Nadja had to time her departure carefully to escape undetected down the hall. She hadn’t relished another day of avoiding the villagers, and that added to her excitement as she stood outside of Pia’s door.

“Nadja?” Pia’s hazel eyes widened in surprise as she opened the door to Nadja’s knock. The woman leaned out and glanced around the hall in confusion.

“Hello, Pia.” Nadja nervously patted her hair into the bun at the nape of her neck and gave what she hoped was a pleasant smile. It wasn’t as if they had been great friends on the ship. Pia unconsciously mimicked Nadja’s movement, touching her shorn locks. Olek was right. Zoran must have cut it. Gripping a small bag in her hands that held the hair extender, she hesitated before asking, “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, yeah,” Pia said, with a small smile of apology. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have been cooped up in here for so long, I forgot my manners.”

For a moment, she’d thought Pia was going to kick her out and she desperately wanted to stay and talk. Nadja relaxed as she stepped inside the beautiful home. Pia ordered the door to close behind her.

“Can I get you anything?” Pia asked, beginning to move toward the kitchen. “I think we have juice.”

“No, I’m fine.” Nadja glanced around the Lintianese style home and wondered how a Qurilixian prince could be influenced by a planet that was so far away. It had the classical circular motifs, asymmetric minimalist décor and natural building materials. There were even the tiny alcoves that looked as if their altar-like contents had religious meaning. The walls were evenly spaced wooden planks to create straight lines. Long wooden strips had been cut to create an intricate pattern on the front hall’s floor, in the center of which was the impression a giant dragon. Rounded globes created a chandelier, which hung beneath a giant center dome. Crystal shards created a pattern inside the globes and reflected the light to brighten the room.

Paper-thin interior doors separated the rooms and did not appear to be voice controlled. There were no locks on them. From the front hall, a single step down led to an open living room with a marble fireplace, which had asymmetric lines carved into the plain surface, and a dragon head in the center top. A step back up, led to a dining room, complete with low table and cushioned floor seats.

A tapestry hung on the far wall, just behind the table. It was red with the depiction of a black forest. In the middle was a noble bird rising up from fire.

“I see you were assigned the princess suite, too,” Nadja mused by way of starting conversation.

“You, too?” Pia laughed, sounding relieved that Nadja said something about it first.

Nadja nodded and an instant camaraderie was struck up between the women.

“It’s so nice to see another woman from the ship,” Nadja admitted. “This planet has entirely too many men, which wouldn’t be so bad except they are all so mannish.”

Pia chuckled, instantly seeming to understand.

“So which prince did you get?” Pia inquired.

“Olek.”

“Ah, the ambassador.” Pia nodded.

“What about you?” Nadja asked, though she already knew.

“Zoran,” Pia answered. The woman’s eyes clouded slightly as if she were in pain. Nadja politely looked away. Pia pointed at the bag Nadja clutched before her. “What do you have there?”

“Oh!” Nadja lifted it up, suddenly remembering the reason she’d been sent there. She hesitated, feeling a little presumptuous in offering. “Before I show you, I have to apologize in advance.”

Pia frowned, looking worried.

“It was my husband’s request,” Nadja rushed, not wanting to be rude. She reached into the bag and weakly pulled out the hair extender. “He said your husband cut off your hair and asked if I could…” Her voice trailed off weakly and she shrugged.

Pia gave a wry grin, putting her at ease. Easily, she finished, “If you could grow it back for me.”

Nadja nodded.

“Zoran didn’t cut my hair,” Pia confessed. “I did.”

“Oh,” Nadja said, horrified. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I like your hair short.”

“It’s all right.” Pia laughed. “I guess it’s called disfigurement. It means I shamed myself or something. You should see the looks the people gave me when I went outside. It was like an evil spirit came into their midst. I was waiting for mothers to rush their children away screaming.”

Nadja giggled, relaxing once more. How could she not relax in Pia’s laid-back presence? “Well, it’s a planet of men. Go figure they’d come up with a tradition to keep their women looking soft and feminine.”

“The queen stopped by just to look at it,” Pia continued with a look of vast amusement. “I thought she was going to throw up on me.”

“Queen Mede was probably mad at her son. She says the princes are a handful,” Nadja said. “She isn’t so bad. From what I can tell, her intentions appear genuine.”

Pia eyed her in disbelief, clearly not knowing what to think of the Draig queen.

Nadja thought it best to change the subject. “So, do you want me to grow it for you?” She lifted the extender. “If anything, it should give us something to do today.”

“Why not,” Pia answered with little consideration and an easy shrug. Then, her gaze moved to Nadja to examine her.

“What?” Nadja glanced down over her clothes, needlessly brushing them off.

“Do you think you could help me with the other stuff too?” Pia’s tone lost some of its confidence. From what Nadja had gathered, Pia was one tough lady. She envied the strength in her.

“Other stuff? What other stuff?”

Pia waved her hand to encompass Nadja. “You know, beauty stuff—dresses, hairstyles, makeup.”

Nadja was surprised to hear the woman speaking so modestly. She smiled. “Sure, it would be my pleasure. But, honestly, I don’t think you need all that.”

Pia looked down.

“I mean,” Nadja said, detecting something amiss in the woman’s response to the compliment. “You have a strong, natural way about you that the men around here seem to respond to. I wish I could be more like that.”

“What?” Pia asked. Her brow furrowed in question. “You want me to teach you how to defend yourself?”

“Oh, could you?” Nadja practically gushed in excitement. Her face lit up. She hadn’t been asking that, but the idea fascinated her. Her father never let her learn such things as self-defense. Quickly, she warned, “I mean, you’ll probably hate teaching me. I don’t even know…I don’t know anything.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Pia said.

Nadja grinned, giddy with anticipation. “All right, let’s get started.”

By the time Nadja left, she felt as if she and Pia were longtime friends. The woman was modest and didn’t seem to know her own beauty. When they finished growing her hair, Nadja had invited the woman to join her for dinner. Pia refused and Nadja had the feeling she was anxious for her husband to come home.

Prince Zoran worried Nadja. She felt Pia’s apprehension when she mentioned the man. She’d also seen the slight bruise on the woman’s chin and wondered if maybe Zoran hit his wife. Nadja was too polite to ask.

Pia showed her a couple of self-defense moves that Nadja could practice on her own. They tentatively scheduled to meet with each other in a day or two, thinking it would be best to hold off the real training until a later date when they were both up for it. After saying their goodbyes, Nadja bounced all the way home. She couldn’t wait.

Chapter 21

“Where did you learn to do this?”

Nadja blinked in surprise, looking up from her notes to where Olek stood in his office doorway. He appeared as if he’d been watching her in silence for some time. Not quite processing his question right away, she glanced down to the table where she sat figuring different formula combinations. It was a like a giant riddle begging to be solved, and she loved every agonizing, headache-making moment of it.

“Nadja?” Olek prompted. When he hadn’t been working with his father, he’d been in his office getting ready to work with his father. She hardly saw him, and when he was there, she hardly felt like he was. He was always so preoccupied.

“What?”

“Where did you learn to do this kind of thing? Like what you did to the medic unit.” He placed a glass of wine in front of her and took a seat.

“My father taught me,” she answered, lost in his eyes for a moment as she stared across the table at him. They seemed so kind and gentle, not like the hard gaze that had stared back at her for the last couple of days. Just one soft look from him and her heart fluttered.

“Your father?” he questioned, obviously surprised by the admission.

“He’s a doctor.” Her hand trembled and the pen fell to her paper. She closed her notebook and took the wine.

“Where does he practice?”

She avoided meeting his gaze. “He travels all over.”

It was the best answer she could think of. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but she also didn’t want to start another fight. She sipped the alcohol, unable to meet his expectant look for more than a second. His expression was too kind, too inquisitive.

“I couldn’t tell you where he is at the moment,” she said.

Well, that much is definitely true, Nadja thought.

“Will he travel here? He’d be welcome to visit anytime. We have a wing specifically for guests.”

Nadja wasn’t so sure how welcome her father would be in a place like this. Reason would dictate that he’d like being able to say his daughter was a princess. Reason would be wrong. Doc Aleksander wouldn’t be impressed with a planet like Qurilixen or Draig royalty. To him a princess of barbarians was still herself a barbarian. Plus, he’s promised her to his crony. He’d punish her out of spite for marring his pride.

She nervously drank more of her wine to avoid answering.

Olek gave the empty glass a quizzical smile as she set it down. “More?”

Nadja shook her head in denial. “No. I have work to do. Too much wine and I won’t be able to concentrate.”

She tried to stand. Olek reached a hand out to stop her. His fingers wrapped her wrist. Her pulse raced beneath his fingers.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” she said. “My father won’t visit us here. He doesn’t know where I am and I prefer to keep it that way.”

“Nadja,” Olek began, only to sigh. “Here family is very important. He’s your father.”

He’s a madman! her mind screamed. She took a calming breath. “He’s not in my life anymore. I don’t want you trying to contact him on my behalf. So can we forget it?”

“Yes. If that is what you wish.”

“It is.” Nadja tried to relax, but she found herself glancing over the room, searching the darkened corners for something that wasn’t there. Thinking this ended the conversation, she again tried to stand.

Olek wasn’t finished talking. “What about Pia? Were you able to fix her hair?”

Nadja smiled. “Your brother didn’t do it. She actually cut it herself and it looked really cute, but she did let me grow it back for her. I don’t think she knew everyone would consider it a disfigurement. I didn’t have much contact with her on the ship, but she’s really nice and witty, and offered to teach me how to throw knives.”

At that Olek chuckled.

“She’s very good,” Nadja defended.

Olek’s smile widened. “I’m glad you like your new sister. I’m sure she’s a wonderful person, but do be careful when playing with weapons. I would hate to see you hurt yourself.”

Nadja blushed in pleasure at his concern. She nodded dutifully.

“So, how’s your work coming along?” Nadja hated to admit it, but his secretive nature when it came to his occupation made her very curious. Several times she’d almost dug through his office for a clue. Only her self-respect kept her from going through with the snooping—and a tiny thread of fear as she remembered what would happen to traitors who’d ransacked her father’s private office.

“It’s coming along,” he said, sipping his wine. “I’m almost finished with what I was doing and will start a new project soon.”

The vague answer caused her to frown. “Can’t you tell me any more than that? What is it you’re doing? What will you start on next?”

“It wouldn’t interest you. It’s just intergalactic politics—very boring stuff.”

“A very diplomatic answer,” she said hesitantly in the Qurilixian language.

Olek laughed, “Not bad. I see you’ve been practicing.”

“Thanks.” She tried not to let her cheeks pinken. What was it about this man that made her blush all the time?

“Ah, Nadja?” Olek looked down at his glass. He swirled the wine. “There is something I need to ask you.”

Nadja sat back, worried. “What?”

“I know you don’t like being a princess,” he said, clearly apprehensive.

“Yes,” Nadja answered carefully. Her heart beat quickened as panic unfurled inside her. Was he going to get rid of her? The idea terrified her more than she thought it would have.

Olek sighed. Hesitantly, he reached forward, taking her hand in his. “There is a big celebration in two nights and I want you to go with me…as my princess.”

Nadja’s heart let loose and she was able to again breathe. Green eyes studied her expectantly.

“It’s very important to the kingdom that you attend,” Olek said, “or else I wouldn’t ask it of you.”

And, her heart stopped. He wasn’t asking her out on a date. He wasn’t asking her because he wanted her there with him. He asked because duty required him to bring her. Nadja tried to hide her disappointment.

“It’s to be your and the other princesses’ coronation into the royal family.” Olek traced the long line of her unmoving fingers. “There will be some diplomats visiting from a neighboring kingdom to bear witness. It’s very important they think you’re happy—that all the brides are happy—to be here with us.”

A coronation? Those usually were intergalactic events. That would mean cameras and reporters and, worst of all, her name being printed all over the galaxy like a walking advertisement for trouble.

But did she really have a choice? What excuse could she give?

“Fine,” she answered. “I’ll go.”

Olek studied her displeased expression, wanting desperately to ask her if she was happy with him. She never said anything one way or the other, except to state she hated being a princess and wished for a simple life. Thinking of the politics involved with this celebration, he knew simple was the furthest thing from it.

He was all too aware of how little he knew his wife. Now that his trade negotiations were well in place, he could concentrate more on his home life. He’d been avoiding this conversation, but with the coronation in a couple days he had no choice but to bring it up. His father had been relentless in asking him about it. Olek couldn’t blame the king. After all, he’d practically been hiding in his father’s office.

He drew his hands from hers. Her touch distracted him. She distracted him. Most of the time she didn’t seem to notice he was there, but he was always aware of her.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, being as you are…that you didn’t want this.” Olek was sorry for her unhappiness. An ache started in the pit of his stomach. He really wanted to take her with him. He wanted her to want to be there as his wife, proudly proclaiming herself as his bride.

“I said it’s fine, Olek,” Nadja answered softly. Her eyes dipped, hiding her expression. “It’s a planetary event? There won’t be intergalactic dignitaries attending, will there?”

“No, we don’t really host intergalactic events. Occasionally, we will entertain a foreign ambassador, but it’s rare, and often they arrive in groups of one or two people, never a large number. Even then they are usually greeted by my cousin, Lord Mirek, at the mountain fortress. He negotiates trade agreements on our behalf. If a royal signature is needed, he’ll send a runner with the documents here for me to look over.”

“Runner? Lord Mirek doesn’t trust technology?”

Olek chuckled at the very idea. “Quite the opposite. As mining ambassador he often travels offworld to meet dignitaries who have come to our airspace. If anything he embraces technology much better than most Draig. The reason we use runners is because the communication lines between the palace and the mountain fortress are old and need to be repaired.”

“I thought you were the ambassador.”

“I handle mostly onworld politics. Mirek sees to ore trade agreements. We work together when we need to.”

“So, at the coronation, what will happen?” she asked, softly. “What do I need to do?”

“Just show up and smile.”

Nadja gave a small laugh. He loved the sound of it. “Show up and smile?”

“The coronation is simple,” Olek assured her. “The preost will crown you as you remain seated in your chair at the head table in the dining hall. People will be watching to see your reaction. Give them one of your smiles and they’ll be as charmed as I hear the villagers are. You aren’t required to make a speech or do anything special. We’ll have dinner, dance if you wish, and that is all.”

“I think I can do that,” Nadja murmured. Her eyes again dipped to his mouth. He wondered if she would taste like wine if he tried to kiss her.

“I greatly appreciate your cooperation in this matter, Nadja.” Olek couldn’t read her expression as she stared at his face. When she didn’t speak, he stood to go. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

Nadja wanted to stop Olek from leaving, but couldn’t think of anything to say as he stepped away from the table. His boyishly handsome grin made her heart tighten. Her eyes dipped to his mouth, longing to kiss him. Her hand twitched to reach for him, but he turned away before she could get up the nerve to touch him.

With a sigh, she opened her notes to look at the formulas, but her concentration was broken. Instead she thought of the coronation banquet. As long as there wasn’t any intergalactic news coverage of the event, a party didn’t sound all that bad.

Chapter 22

Nadja took a deep breath, giving Pia a pointed look. They were in a long rectangular exercise room in Pia’s home. The wood floors were perfectly smoothed and polished. There were weapons everywhere—some of which Nadja had no clue as to how they were used. The paper-thin door leading between rooms was opened and Nadja could see Pia’s dining room table from where she stood. Someone had left a couple knives on it. After seeing Pia’s skill firsthand, combined with Zoran’s taste in decorating, she determined she’d hate to see what one of their marital spats looked like.

“Okay, Nadja,” Pia said, trying to draw her friend’s attention back to her. Nadja was drifting off again. “I want you to kick my hand.”

Nadja was in a pair of comfortable black pants and a cotton shirt Pia had lent her for the lesson. Her own clothes hadn’t been suitable for what they were about to do, according to Pia. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the woman’s hand high in the air.

“Just like I showed you,” Pia urged.

Nadja kicked, giving a light jump as she did so.

“Again,” Pia ordered. Nadja kicked a second time and then a third and fourth on command. Pia smiled. “You’re getting a lot better.”

Nadja tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just so distracted today.”

Pia lowered her hand. “What’s going on?”

Nadja shrugged. “Have you been told about our coronation?”

“We have a coronation?” Pia asked, before laughing.

“I guess not,” Nadja said. “Olek told me about it last night. He said it’s important to the kingdom that we go and act happy.”

“Ah,” Pia said, perceptively. “He didn’t say that it was important to him that you go.”

Nadja nodded. “He’s so frustrating. One minute I want to kiss him and the next I want to practice kicking at his head, then I want to…grr!”

“Kiss him some more?” Pia finished with a small laugh.

“Exactly,” Nadja said with a bashful smile. Pia lifted her opposite hand and Nadja kicked it repeatedly, taking small pauses to speak in-between whacks of her foot. “And I shouldn’t want to kiss him. He’s not what I wanted…at all when I came here. I wanted a sweet country doctor…who was old…and didn’t make me want…to kiss him all the time.”

“Instead you got a prince.”

“Exactly.” Nadja kicked harder and faster. Losing her breath, she was finally forced to stop. “I got the perfect prince. Sometimes, it’s like I married a title, not a man. I have no clue what he does all day. I know he’s an ambassador and working on trade agreements, but every time I ask he changes the subject, like I’m some kind of alien spy sent to gather intelligence.”

“Now a low kick,” Pia instructed, holding her hand down low near waist level.

Nadja turned to use her other leg.

“Nadja,” Pia began, the word edged with curiosity and caution. “Why did you come here?”

Nadja froze. Her leg lowered to the ground without striking. Pia dropped her hand. Taking a deep breath, Pia reached forward. Nadja, thinking she was to resume training, kicked.

Pia bent over to grab a glass of water just as Nadja’s foot struck out and hit her in the stomach, sending her off balance. Nadja inhaled sharply in horror as her foot made contact. Pia stumbled back in surprise, and crashed right into a display of swords. Her mouth opened in shock as she fell over.

“Oh, Pia!” Nadja ran forward. She reached to help her up. “I didn’t mean to. I thought—”

“No,” Pia grunted. Her somber expression kept Nadja back. The woman looked down at her side. Blood spilled onto the floor next to her. “Don’t move me. Get a medic.”

Nadja teared up and ran for the front door.

“Open,” Pia yelled weakly.

The door slid open and Nadja thought she heard Pia fall over on the floor and say, “Please hurry.”

Nadja had been fortunate enough to find a servant in the halls who directed her to Tal, the royal household’s personal medic technician. Somehow the man understood enough of Nadja’s tearful rambling explanation and urgings to hurry, and to ascertain that he needed to bring a handheld medic unit. They rushed to Pia’s side and, after a thorough examination, Tal declared the princess was going to survive. Pia had lost a fair amount of blood and her wound needed to be seared closed with a laser. He did the back wound first, before moving to the front. Nadja felt awful, pacing worriedly in the background as the man worked. The sight of blood and open wounds didn’t bother her so much, as the fact that she’d actually caused harm to another person—and a person she considered a friend. Pia told her to quit fussing, that it was just an accident, and she’d been through much worse.

Nadja didn’t feel better. She had never hurt anyone. To think her only female friend might have died because of her stupidity made her want to retch. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father’s laughing face. He would think it a great irony.

Pia flinched, barely making a sound as the medic worked. She lay on her couch, arm raised above her head. Her clothes were drenched with sweat and blood.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to deaden the pain, my lady?” the medic asked when she jerked at a particularly deep section of the wound.

“No,” Pia answered between her tightened lips. “It’s fine. Just keep going.”

Nadja stood behind him, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry, Pia. I didn’t mean to kick you that hard.”

Pia chuckled, sucking in a breath as she was again seared with the laser. Through gritted teeth, she said, “It’s nothing, Nadja, quit fretting. I should have been ready for it. You’ve got some power in those legs of yours. Next time, we’ll just make sure we’re nowhere near the sword display.”

Nadja relaxed some, watching the medic closely for any errors. He was very competent and she sighed when his task was almost completed.

Pia closed her eyes and waited for the man to finish. Hearing the door slide up, her eyes popped back open. The woman moved to stand. The laser bumped and seared off course onto her undamaged skin. Pia grunted lightly. The medic huffed and turned the laser off. Nadja gasped and resisted the urge to take his laser away from him to do it herself.

“You have to sit still,” Tal ordered.

“Zoran,” Pia breathed, ignoring the man as her eyes went to the door.

Nadja turned to the door in dismay to see the Captain of the Guards. Prince Zoran lived up to the rumors. He was a large man, with an overbearingly commanding face, broad shoulders, and a hard set to his jaw. He was terrifying.

She shivered in fear as the extremely large man looked at her and frowned in what Nadja could interpret as displeasure. Then, stepping forward, he eyed Pia’s side. His voice harsh, he commanded, “What happened? Who did this?”

Nadja took a step back ready to run. Zoran looked angry enough to kill. But she couldn’t abandon Pia to his wrath.

“It…it was an accident,” Nadja said to the warrior, hoping to direct some of his ire from her injured friend. She trembled before the prince as he gazed menacingly at her like she was one of his soldiers. She had the impression she shouldn’t have spoken out of turn. Slowly, she glanced at Pia, feeling sorry for the woman.

Pia stared up at Zoran, not looking nearly as afraid as Nadja felt. “Nadja, thank you for visiting. I hope you’ll see me again soon.”

Nadja was thankful for the dismissal. Olek might be a large man, but Pia’s husband was monstrous. At least Olek smiled and had the most brilliant laughing eyes that danced in gaiety and mischief. Zoran looked as if he didn’t know how to smile, let alone laugh. It was no wonder Pia didn’t talk about her husband too much. He was absolutely terrifying. Nadja started for the door. “Pia, I’ll see you later.”

“Open!” Zoran barked, opening the door to let her out.

“Thanks, Nadja,” Pia called after her. “Remember to practice.”

Nadja didn’t look back. She skirted around the warrior prince as quickly as she could without touching him. To her immense relief, Zoran ignored her. Reaching the hallway, she had the strongest urge to run. Zoran looked fit to kill. Now, that man truly looked like a beast. Pia was injured, and even though she claimed she was fine, Nadja felt horrible about it. Pia was her first and only female friend and she had almost ruined it. She didn’t see how the woman could forgive her.

Chapter 23

“What’s wrong?” Olek asked, as his wife rushed inside their home. He stood up from the table, shoving his sketches into a folder to hide them. He’d been thinking about her, almost tempted to send a guard to for search her—only he was having a hard time coming up with a good enough excuse.

“I met your brother,” Nadja said. Her rounded blue eyes glistened from the frame of her porcelain skin.

“Oh?” Olek asked, wondering why she was so shaken. Her hands trembled as she stepped forward. She stopped by the fountain and swayed lightly on her feet, prompting him to question, “Which one?”

“Zoran,” she answered, weakly. The word was a delicate whisper and her lips quivered.

“What happened?” Olek came for her, unable to keep from gathering her into his arms. His eyes devoured her, searching her for injury or a clue as to why she was upset. He trusted his brother to be honorable, but he couldn’t deny his wife’s expression. She trembled beneath his hands and, to his amazement, the reserved Nadja began to cry. He pulled her close and cupped the back of her head to his shoulder. “Nadja, what happened? What’s wrong?”

If Zoran has done anything to her, I’ll kill him!

“Pia and I were practicing. She was trying to show me how to defend myself and I accidentally kicked her in the ribs,” Nadja managed between sobs. She gasped as she tried to get her story out. “I thought she was ready for me, but she wasn’t, and she fell on a sword display and was stabbed and there was blood and I didn’t mean to hurt her, but there was so much blood, and Tal—”

“Nadja,” Olek interrupted as she began to babble incoherently. He brushed back her hair. “Is Pia going to be all right?”

“Yes, the medic said that she’d be fine.” Nadja sniffed. Pulling back miserably, her wet eyes studied him. “But I think your brother wants to… He looked really angry with me.”

Olek frowned as her head dropped forward and she burrowed into his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say to her. He’d never seen her this vulnerable, this willing to stay in the comfort of his arms. His body stirred with hot desire—that always happened when she was near—but beyond the desire there was more. He wanted to keep her in his embrace, to protect her. It was a new, deeper feeling, a connection that stirred between them, pulling them together. He felt every nerve in his body drawing her closer, as if he could fold her inside himself and keep her next to his heart.

Feeling her shiver, Olek soothed, “Zoran has a temper but he’s a reasonable man. He won’t hurt you, Nadja. I’m sure he’s just worried. I would be if it happened to you.”

Nadja pulled back to study him. She didn’t appear so sure. “You didn’t see his face, Olek.”

“I’ll tell you a secret. He always looks like that. It can’t be helped.”

Nadja laughed through her tears and hit him lightly on the chest. “You’re not funny.”

“Ah,” Olek murmured softly, brushing a tear back with his thumb. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see. I’ll even talk to Zoran first thing tomorrow for you.”

“You’ll tell him I didn’t mean it?”

Olek nodded. His eyes dipped to her mouth. Nadja lifted up on her toes and kissed him first. He groaned in surprise. Her hands wound up into his hair, pulling him closer. Her soft body pressed along his. Her lips were tentative, but she didn’t stop. With a moan, she forced him back toward the couch.

Olek’s knees hit the side and he was instantly pushed down. Before he knew what was happening, Nadja had his hips straddled with her thighs and was rubbing her warm sex against his full arousal. He felt her getting wet for him, her heated center dampening her clothes. She pulled back from her kiss, holding his face as she panted for air. Her eyes bore into him, pleading. He read her passion for him, but also saw her confusion. She didn’t know what to do next. It was an appeal he couldn’t resist answering.

Nadja had looked into the deep, liquid pools of Olek’s green eyes, eyes that were so soft and giving, and was unable to resist them. His hands stroked her gently. She’d seen he wanted to protect her and for the first time in her life, she felt as if nothing could reach her—not even her father’s wrath.

She couldn’t stop herself. His lips moved beneath hers and it was all she could do not to devour him. The temptingly masculine scent of him urged her onward and she had to keep kissing him. Her hands moved over hard flesh, wishing he was naked so she could better explore.

Olek took control. His hands ran up into her hair to free the silky brown locks before moving down to her hips. He pulled her onto his clothed erection, grinding her hips against his harder. Nadja moaned, liking the added pressure, as she moved along the extraordinarily thick length of his cock.

Olek groaned into her mouth as he thrust his hips up. His lips slid form her mouth as she bounced on his lap. He kissed her throat, tilting her head back so her hair fell over her shoulders. He gripped her, forcing her down so her sex pressed hard against his shaft.

“My sweet solarflower.” He growled against her flesh.

Nadja didn’t try to fight him. She was tired of fighting her body. She only wanted to feel him and the safety he provided her. He artfully swept her onto the couch so she lay beneath him, his hand cradling her head. His body rocked into hers. His hands were everywhere at once, on her stomach, curving to her hip, digging beneath her shirt to free her swelling breasts to the onslaught of his searching lips. When he touched her it was as if nothing could ever harm her again. She was safe.

“Tell me you want me.” Olek moaned hoarsely, desperately.

“Yes,” Nadja said and was rewarded with another press of him between her legs. Her body arched. “I want you, Olek.”

Her hands went to his shirt, and she frantically pulled it over his head. She glided her fingers over his chest, tracing the solid bulges of his muscles. Olek reached for the drawstring tie on his pants, intent on freeing his arousal.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Nadja gasped, about ready to smack him if he dared to pull away now.

A groan left his parted lips and he nearly collapsed in frustration. That’s when she heard it. Someone was knocking on the door.

Taking a deep breath, Nadja’s mind began to clear. She covered her chest from view and began to unwind her legs. A blush crept over her features.

Olek grabbed her face and kissed her. “Just leave it. They’ll go away,” he said, ready to continue.

“But…” Nadja said, having regained a bit of her sanity. “What if it’s about Pia? What if she’s hurt worse than I thought?”

Olek slowly nodded and climbed off her. With a frustrated sigh, he yelled, “One moment!”

He grabbed his shirt, tugging it over his head. Nadja followed suit. Her body hated her. Her sex ached, nearly throbbing in protest. Tiny waves of desire shot up from her neglected sex. Her nipples stood at hard points against the material of her shirt.

Leaning over, Olek kissed her cheek and whispered the heated promise, “We’re not finished with this, solarflower.”

Nadja’s fingers fumbled at the admission. She trembled, now that she had time to stop and think about what she was doing. The old insecurities hit her hard. Olek had been so passionate, so bold, and she became frightened she wouldn’t measure up to his expectations.

Olek strode to the door, walking around the fountain, as if eager to send whoever it was away. Nadja righted her clothes. Still on the couch, she used the fountain as a blockade between her and the door until she felt she could properly receive their guest. Her cheeks and neck were flushed and she tried to fan her face with her hands.

“Draea Anwealda,” a servant acknowledged. Olek glanced over his shoulder to where Nadja still sat. She dropped her hands to listen. “The king bids you to join him immediately in his office. Prince Zoran is back from his mission and has reported. The king wishes to discuss his findings with you. Furthermore, he said to tell you there is a problem with the trade agreement and he wishes to go over the final preparations for tomorrow’s event.”

Stiffly, Olek nodded. “Inform my father I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Very good, my lord,” said the servant, leaving to do as he was told.

Nadja stood as Olek turned to face her. The door slid shut behind him. Her clothes were smoothed and she kept her gaze guarded.

“Nadja,” he said hoarsely, as if feeling the need to explain.

“Go,” she told him calmly. “I was a little emotional. I’m fine now. Your kingdom needs you.”

“But…” His eyes roamed over her.

“I know, you have work to do.” She tried to keep the sour note out of her voice and failed. “Duty is duty. Now, go. The king is waiting.”

He hesitated before nodding once and striding to the door.

Nadja watched him leave. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, she let loose a ragged breath of air and fell back onto the couch. She couldn’t move to save her life. Her body sang with the tumultuous fire of his touch. But, as she had time to cool her thoughts, she grew frightened by the passion in him. His eyes had been so determined, so possessive. His hands were so forceful and confident. After what she’d done to Pia, she had been so vulnerable, and his arms were so comforting.

She had never acted rashly, never just leapt before thinking. This time, she’d leapt into his arms, no debate, no considering the consequences. She shivered, thoroughly confused.

“This is not the life I had planned,” she whispered. “And he is nothing like the husband I envisioned.”

Olek frowned, resenting his father’s man for his horrible timing. Never had he cursed his position as much as he did in that moment. His body had been strained to the point of explosion. He didn’t want to leave his wife. He wanted her to beg him to stay. If she’d have asked, he would have defied the order and gone back into her arms without hesitation.

Duty is duty. Now, go. The king is waiting.

Olek flinched. She’d been calm as she said it—too calm. What happened to the fiery passion of just moments ago? He wanted that version of his wife back.

He hesitated, torn between going back to Nadja and continuing on to the royal office. Knowing she had been right, he growled and stormed down the hall to meet his father. What else could he do?

Chapter 24

Olek’s mood had turned disagreeable by the time he arrived back home. The king’s need of him lasted well into the night. Zoran had nothing of relevance to report. He had followed a suspected Var spy into the swamps, but had to turn back before he could completely track the man down. Otherwise, he would not have made it to the coronation on time.

As if coronations, planetary Var threats, and unhappy marriages were not enough, they now had reports of a possible alien threat to their northern ore mines. Even though the rumors were unconfirmed, it was something they had to take very seriously. Galaxa-promethium was the lifeblood of the Draig intergalactic economy. The special ore was how they paid for everything offworld, including Galaxy Brides’ shipments.

Olek pressed a finger to the center of his throbbing forehead. After the problems with the current bridal shipment, they were forced to reconsider the Galaxy Brides’ trade agreement as well. Olek’s grandfather had put it into place during his rule hundreds of years ago. They had come to depend on bridal procurement for their very survival. If they stopped trading, he wasn’t sure what the people would do—especially the unmarried people. It could be the first Draig uprising in remembered history.

The Lithor Republic sent a communication via Lord Mirek much sooner than Olek had expected. It was nearly one hundred pages long and came with a ten page request that basically asked to set up an official meeting between two of their dignitaries. As always, Lord Mirek would go and meet with their dignitary, Barun Monke. For some reason, the Lithorian people insisted on formality each and every year and required a member of the immediate royal family to sign the agreement. They also sent all communications on paper with no electronic copy. Honor and common sense dictated the prince read every page, every time, to look for changes in the wording. It was one of Olek’s most dreaded tasks. His father took pity on him and helped with the smaller document. His generosity, however, did not extend to the one hundred page contractual tome. By the time they were finished drafting a response to the dignitary request, the king had decided to put the ceremony’s final preparations off until the next morning.

Olek’s head ached terribly from having to decipher the first part of the Lithorian mess. He deposited the hundred page communication on his desk, none too eager to sift through it.

Nadja was asleep. He looked at her for a long time, lying on his couch with a blanket and pillow. He wondered why she chose to sleep there instead of the bed where she had been staying. There wasn’t room for two of them and he had no wish to wake her so late. His body aching, his head throbbing, he fell into bed still wearing his clothes.

The next morning he awoke late. Nadja was already gone. He assumed she was checking on Princess Pia.

His dreams had been haunted by her kisses, overshadowed by the duties he faced and the attendance of the Var at the coronation festivities. The prince would not have admitted it, but the possibility of a Var threat to the royal princesses was in the back of his mind. He had no proof of their conspiring, only a husband’s worry over his bride.

Dressing quickly in a fresh change of clothes, he had no choice but to go back to the royal office to prepare for the night’s ceremony. The sooner he could get it done, the sooner he could be back home with his Nadja. A smile found his lips as he thought of her. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too averse to picking up where they had left off.

Chapter 25

Nadja trembled in nervous excitement, despite her determination to be calm and dignified. She’d been to celebrations, balls, parties, and numerous other royal events before. She’d even been the guest of honor, along with her father, at many of those functions, giving joint speeches with him, shaking hands, and smiling prettily for the crowds. So tonight should have been no different—but it was.

In her nervous anticipation, Nadja took twice as long with her hair to make sure it was perfectly upswept. She put on makeup and perfume. Looking at her bare throat and ears, she wished she hadn’t been so rash when getting rid of all her jewelry. Her diamond necklace would have gone perfectly with the gown she was to wear.

She’d spent most of the day with Pia, helping the woman get ready. Pia acted as if being accidently stabbed was an everyday occurrence. She moved around as if nothing had happened though Nadja knew the woman had to be sore. Pia didn’t hold a grudge and Nadja was glad for it, though she still felt guilty. Luckily, and to her great relief, Zoran was away while she was there.

Finishing her makeup, Nadja practiced smiling into the mirror before getting her gown. She held the light robe at her waist as she walked. Olek was still gone. She knew he was more than likely with his father.

The coronation gown was nothing like she’d pictured when she saw Bara’s quick sketch of the queen’s design. The dress was divided into two layers. The first was a softened, cream-colored, faille silk that overlaid a tight corset bodice on the top, with non-existent sleeves. It pushed her breasts up, but not too much. The cream skirt then flared out from the hips in a light sweeping effect that glided beautifully when she walked.

The top layer was more of a high-collared jacket of dark green. She’d been told green was Prince Olek’s royal color and she would be wearing it in some form at most royal functions, whether it was a gown or a simple sash. The jacket met at her waist with silver miniature dragon clips. The overskirt flowed, though it was heavier than the cream. Slipping into green dress slippers, she sighed, feeling every inch a princess.

“You look…lovely,” Olek said from the bedroom door. His gaze roamed hungrily over her.

Nadja turned, not having heard him walk in. She smiled, brushing down her skirt. “You don’t think it’s too much? The queen said—”

“It’s perfect,” he murmured. His eyes transfixed on her bodice, he seemed unable to stop himself from going to her. He began to reach for her waist. Nadja darted out of his embrace. Olek glanced up in surprise, clearly confused.

“I spent three hours on this hair. You are not going to ruin it,” she said, seriously. Her hands lifted to make sure he stayed back.

Olek gave her an easy smile. He took a step for her again, teasing her as he pretended to reach for her.

“Oh, stay back,” Nadja cried. “I mean it!”

Olek laughed. “I’ll agree, but only if you give me one kiss.”

Nadja eyed him suspiciously.

“Just one,” he said, taking a step forward. He dropped his hands to the side. “I won’t even touch you. See, I’ll keep my hands right here.”

Nadja, still watching him carefully, eased forward. His mouth stuck out expectantly and she pecked him on the cheek.

Olek’s hands instantly found her waist, pulling her to him. “You call that a kiss?”

Nadja struggled against his hold, though the power in his arms excited her. She swatted at his hands, trying to get free. “Olek, come on, let go.”

“Fine, but I will not forget. Promise to kiss me later and I’ll let you go for now,” Olek said. His eyes dipped down to her cleavage with untold promises. Nadja knew he would be expecting more this night than just a kiss.

Weakly she nodded. “Now let me go. I have to go check on my hair and make sure you didn’t shake it loose.”

Olek nuzzled her neck playfully. “What if I promised not to touch your hair? Would you at least let me see the rest of this dress?”

Confused, she looked down, trying to see what he meant. “This is the whole dress.”

Olek’s hand shifted to undo one of the dragon clasps and his fingers dipped beneath the jacket at her waist. “I want to see under here.”

Nadja swallowed.

“And under here,” Olek huskily continued, his hand trailing underneath the overskirt to the back of her thigh. “Let me see what you’re wearing underneath this skirt. Will you take it off for me?”

Nadja was naked beneath the gown. Qurilixian fashion didn’t supply much in the way of underclothing. She nearly swooned when his lips gently assaulted her neck. Passion readily flooded into her limbs.

“You smell so good,” he whispered. “You feel so good.”

She moaned.

Olek undid the second and third clasps, completely freeing the top layer. He groaned as his eyes moved over the tight bodice clinging to her breasts. Her nipples tightened under the gown, responding to him.

“We’re going to be late,” Nadja said, though in truth she had no idea when the event was due to start. She swatted at his searching hands.

Olek chuckled, and grinned as if he’d been expecting her to come to her senses and stop him.

“Ah, solarflower,” Olek teased, “I won’t take too long.”

Nadja scrunched her nose, not completely understanding, but not liking the idea of a fast whatever-it-was he was planning.

“Is that a no?” Olek asked, stroking her thigh one last time before giving the bottom curve of her ass a hard squeeze. He let her go.

“Get dressed,” Nadja ordered, glancing at the bed. “Your clothes are right there.”

Olek’s eyes followed her nod. She’d already laid out the formal tunic that would match her dress the best. Leaning forward, he smacked her loudly on the lips and let her go. Nadja was almost sorry to feel his protective arms leave her.

“Do you want to help me get dressed?” he asked mischievously.

“I have to go fix this mess you’ve made of me,” she scolded, walking from the room.

Olek smiled after her like a fool. Then, sighing, he went about making himself presentable.

Chapter 26

Nadja peered around the common hall. The dining area was immaculate, from the red stone floor to the steep, arched ceilings. The center dome for light was larger than the one in their wing. Banners of the family crest lined the walls, one for each color of the family lines—green for Olek, red for Zoran, purple for the king and queen, black and blue-gray for the two other princes she had yet to meet. If they were anything like Zoran, she wasn’t in a rush for an introduction. Each banner had the embroidered silver symbol of the dragon.

Lines of dining tables reached across the floor, filled with villagers and attended to by servants who carted out endless pitchers of various drinks and set them out on the tables. Their combined voices created a low, constant murmur over the hall.

With a slight frown, Nadja realized no one had thought of decorations. There were tablecloths and a vase of flowers on the royal table, but the walls were bare and only goblets and pitchers graced the lower tables. Trust men to throw such a party.

Nadja would just have to offer her services next time. This was one area where her skills as a socialite would definitely come in handy. At least there were musicians setting up in the corner. That was something.

Glancing at Olek, she felt jittery. He was seated to her left. On her right was the king. He had smiled politely and welcomed her. But, beyond that, he didn’t speak to her and kept turned toward his wife. Even so, she was keenly aware of the man’s presence.

Pia sat next to the queen, appearing very uncomfortable with the arrangement. Prince Zoran was by her side, as forbidding as ever in his red Lintianese-style tunic. Next to him was Prince Yusef. Nadja had never seen him before. He was much darker in appearance than the rest of the family and acted as unhappy as Zoran. The seat next to him was empty. His princess did not come to the event.

The princes, the king, and the queen all wore silver crowns as a symbol of their sovereignty. Queen Mede’s was smaller in size, though of the same plain design. Nadja glanced at Olek’s head. The crown suited him.

“Where is your fourth brother?” Nadja asked curiously, leaning into Olek. “I thought it was important that all the brides attend tonight.”

“He’ll be here in a moment. His wife must come in and end her slavery first,” he said.

Nadja stiffened. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Her gaze hardened in dismay. “Your brother made his wife a slave?” Her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“She did it to herself,” Olek defended.

Nadja frowned. It is just like a man to blame the woman!

Suddenly, the hall grew very quiet and her attention turned forward. Morrigan Blake walked slowly to the center of the room, her head down-turned in a way that made Nadja want to scream. The woman looked absolutely subdued. Where was the spunky, sarcastic Rigan she’d known on the ship? Where was the woman who always looked proudly to the distance, as if she were overrun with thoughts and ideas?

“What did you do to her?” Nadja whispered. Olek glanced at her questioningly, but she didn’t repeat herself.

“Queen Mede, King Llyr,” Morrigan said giving the royal couple a curtsey. Her voice wavered and she swallowed nervously. Nadja’s frowned deepened, desperately wanting to go to the woman’s rescue. What sort of a man would make his wife humiliate herself like this in public? She glared at Olek, wishing he would do something to help the poor woman. Morrigan continued, “I come to you as a humble slave, begging for your royal pardon. I have restored my honor and wish to seek your blessing.”

Nadja lifted her jaw.

“Prince Olek?” the queen asked.

Nadja glanced at her husband in shock. He had something to do with this? He allowed this to happen? Maybe he wasn’t the man she thought he was. Maybe she didn’t know him at all. He never told her about his work. What if his work included enslaving women or selling children? She really had no clue who these people were. All she’d seen was the glossy surface of palace life and the nearby village. Just as soon as she could manage, she was going to raid his office and find out what he was up to once and for all. So help him if he turned out to be another version of her father. She had not left one tyrant to live with another.

Her emotions told her that she was wrong. Olek couldn’t possibly be cruel. Then he spoke and logic argued otherwise.

“Yea,” Olek answered. Nadja turned her eyes forward, waiting quietly as the queen named her sons and husband, getting the same answers. How could the queen be a part of this? She seemed so lovely when they were together. Is this what they did to women who didn’t follow their royal dictates?

“And I say ‘yea’. She has spoken well,” Queen Mede said. “We have agreed. Now it is up to you, my son. Will this slave receive her pardon, Prince Ualan?”

Nadja couldn’t listen to anymore as Prince Ualan made his way down to his wife. She hadn’t noticed him joining them at the head table until that moment. Turning to Olek, she whispered, “How could you have allowed this to happen?”

Olek frowned, clearly not understanding. “I didn’t allow anything.”

“But, you’re taking part in it,” Nadja returned under heated breath.

“Yea,” Ualan announced. “I shall pardon my wife. She has proven herself very worthy of her title and of my family’s honor.”

“Arrogant wretch,” Nadja mumbled, watching Ualan lead his wife to the table.

“What?” Olek leaned in to better hear her.

“Nothing,” Nadja grumbled. When Morrigan looked up at her, she could tell the woman was upset. She looked ready to kill. Nadja smiled at that and gave her a stiff nod, glad to see the woman’s spirits hadn’t been completely broken.

“It is glad I am that all my sons have found brides. We are a house blessed,” the king announced when Ualan and Morrigan were seated. “Preost, crown the princesses.”

Nadja felt a crown being placed over her hair and automatically reached up to help the preost ease it on her head without messing up her upsweep. She didn’t turn around to look at the man as he spoke Qurilixian words she didn’t understand. She glanced around, happy and very much relieved to see there weren’t any visible cameras in the hall recording her image.

She felt Olek affectionately take her hand beneath the table and stiffened. He glanced at her, smiling kindly. For a moment, his gaze almost drew her in, but she looked away before she let it.

Olek blinked, not understanding what he had done. Ualan’s wife enslaved herself by her own will. Not even Ualan had any say in the matter. In fact, her enslavement actually made things worse for Ualan, because it was forbidden for a master to touch a slave in passion—even if that woman was his wife.

Nadja looked over at Princess Morrigan and her lips pressed harshly together, turning white. He wondered why she was getting so heated over the incident. It’s not like the family actually treated the woman like a slave.

“Nadja?” he asked, thinking she might be more upset about the coronation and using the Morrigan incident as an excuse. He knew she didn’t want to be a princess.

Instead of answering his entreaty, she inquired, “So who are the ambassadors we are trying to impress?”

Olek’s expression fell, but he gave a slight nod toward a distant table. A solemn group of blond cat-shifters sat by themselves, ignored by most of those gathered except for the occasional hateful stare. No one liked having the Var guards in the Draig palace—not even Olek and he’d been the one to arrange it. Only one servant approached the enemy guests, seeming to hesitate as he filled their goblets. The Var men held still, not looking at the servant as he made his way around them.

Olek found himself holding his breath, hoping they wouldn’t shift or do anything stupid in front of the princesses, who as of yet had not been told that they were on a planet of shape-shifters. He’d been so distracted with thoughts of his bride, Olek forgot to take into account that detail. If the Var shifted to cat form, the Draig warriors would be obliged to turn into dragons and the hall would erupt into chaos. He looked at Nadja. He wasn’t sure his delicate solarflower could handle that kind of coronation entertainment.

“Who are they?” Nadja asked. The Var men were the only ones not enjoying themselves. Nadja shivered as one of the largest warriors subtly returned her stare. She hastily looked away.

“The House of Var,” Olek answered evenly, keeping his attention carefully trained on them without appearing to do so. He frowned, not liking the Var king’s attention on his bride. King Attor snarled at her as if he would like nothing more than to snap her neck between his flexing fingers. “They are from the kingdom to the south. We rule this half of Qurilixen, they rule the other half.”

“Your family rules half a planet?”

“Our planet isn’t so big,” he said modestly, taking a drink.

“So the Galaxy Brides uploads were imprecise when they referred to you as the Qurilixian people.” Nadja said. Olek liked the way she twirled a strand of her hair when she was in deep thought. He noticed she did that often when working on her formulas. “They should have specifically classified you as the Draig of Qurilixen.”

“I suppose,” he answered, just thankful they didn’t publicly classify them as dragon-shifters. If the Federation Military’s attention was drawn to that little fact, the Draig would never get rid of Federation recruiters.

“Is Lord Mirek attending? I would like an introduction. I want to talk to him,” Nadja said.

At that Olek turned his full attention to her. He remembered telling her that Mirek often traveled offworld. “Why? Are you planning a trip somewhere?”

“A trip?” She furrowed her brow. “No. I wanted to talk to him about his wife’s condition.”

Olek relaxed. “I’m sure your sympathies will be appreciated. No, none of my cousins are here tonight, but we can have a runner deliver a missive if you like. They would have liked to come, and please don’t think of it as a slight against your coronation, but they each have very pressing matters of their own to attend to in the mountains. I expect they will send you gifts in the coming week.”

Nadja nodded.

Servants came around with plates of food, serving royalty first and the Var guests second. The Var lifted their hands, silently refusing the meal. The servants moved on, giving their plates over to the next table. The hall became more subdued as the people began to dine. Musicians played soft music in the corner.

Nadja kept glancing nervously at the Var warriors. The cat-shifters drank in silence, rudely taking in everything with obvious displeasure. The gathered paid them no attention, pretending as if they didn’t exist.

“What are the Var doing here?” Ualan questioned in the Old Star language. His tone was hard and Olek could tell he wasn’t happy to receive the Var king and his guard in their home.

“They are our guests,” Olek answered. Nadja looked directly at them, clearly listening. Olek’s jaw tightened to match Ualan’s expression. He was more worried about it than he would let on.

“See that they are watched,” Ualan ordered. “I won’t have their deceits in the House of Draig. There will be a big price to pay if we must punish them.”

“Yusef is taking care of it.” Olek paused, very aware of his wife’s blatant eavesdropping. Easing purposefully into their native tongue, he continued, “We wanted them to see the royal marriages for themselves.”

Nadja frowned. She would have thought her husband and his brothers completely unconcerned by the visitors until she heard Price Ualan lean over to speak to Olek. She wanted to hear more of what they said, but she wasn’t very good at the Draig language. It was annoying, like parents spelling out the bad words so the kids couldn’t understand. She’d really have to step up her practice of their language if she were to learn anything useful.

Nadja realized Morrigan was looking at her, a serious expression on the woman’s strained face. Nadja tried to smile, but the woman just nodded stiffly and turned away. After enslavement, it would be understandable if the woman didn’t want to be crowned. It was possible the punishment had been a way to force Morrigan to attend. Olek did say they needed happy brides at this event.

For the most part Nadja ate in silence. A servant came to take her plate and she let him. Olek occasionally spoke to his brother in their language. Nadja glanced at him, seeing his head turned from her. She thought of how Olek and Ualan really did look alike, though Ualan’s eyes were blue and Olek’s were the much sexier green.

Pia smiled at her and Nadja smiled back. She wished she could switch places with Zoran so she’d have someone to talk to. Seeing her attention in his direction, the king glanced at her and grinned. He leaned to his wife, murmuring softly to her.

Nadja was about to turn her attention to the crowd when she saw Pia’s expression fall in horror. A shout of laughter resounded in front of them. She watched, amazed, as Pia jumped up from her chair and rushed down to the hall floor below. Leaning forward to get a better look, Nadja witnessed a young boy struggling to his feet. One foot turned in slightly and started to drag, causing him to limp.

Several large Draig warriors at a nearby table laughed harder as they watched the slender, sickly boy. The boy nearly toppled back over as Pia stopped next to him. He tried to bow, but his position was precarious and he stumbled before righting himself.

Unbidden, Nadja’s hand found Olek’s leg beneath the table and she began to knead it in agitation. He tensed at the contact and turned to study her.

“Leave him be,” Pia ordered the Draig warriors. One of the Var stood up amidst the distraction. The scolded warriors quieted and looked at Pia in question.

“What do you want with Heinrich, my lady?” a burly man with a beard asked. “Does he offend you? I will have him removed.”

Pia’s face turned red with anger and her blonde hair flew as she spun to glare the man down. “He does not.”

“My lady,” the Draig warrior defended himself, “the boy knows we mean no harm. Don’t you, lad?”

Heinrich dutifully nodded his head at the man’s hard look.

“See,” the man said.

“Yeah,” a shorter warrior with a pockmarked face added. “He thinks to become a warrior, don’t you, boy?”

The table started to laugh anew.

“Well, I am a princess,” Pia announced, “and he will be my personal warrior.”

The warriors looked shocked, but none more so than Heinrich whose mouth nearly fell to the floor.

“If my lady wishes for a warrior, let us battle for the position. Do not insult us by naming a boy,” the burly man insisted.

Prince Zoran came around to gather his wife as the soldiers shouted in agreement.

“Let us have a tournament,” one of them called. He was met with excited shouts.

“Do you dare to question a princess?” Zoran asked, his voice booming with an authority they automatically respected. The hall fell deadly still.

Nadja shook. She saw Pia’s hard eyes searching over the crowd. Pushing up from Olek’s leg, she stated, “He is my warrior too.”

Olek choked on his wine. All eyes turned to her.

“And mine as well,” Morrigan piped in, rising to her feet.

Nadja looked at Morrigan and smiled. The small show of public defiance felt great. An invisible thread joined the three princesses in that moment, bonding them. Pia nodded gratefully at them.

“Gods’ bones,” the king said under his breath.

“There you have it,” Zoran said. If Nadja wasn’t mistaken, he actually looked like he was trying not to laugh. “You cannot deny the wish of three princesses. Heinrich is now under royal protection and will be treated according to his new station.”

The stunned hall broke into a crescendo of murmurs. At Zoran’s nod, the musicians picked up their tune once more. Nadja watched as he led the boy to the head table to sit by Pia in Yusef’s wife’s empty seat. Pia waved at a servant to bring the boy a plate.

Prince Yusef nodded at the boy before standing. He went to the musicians who welcomed him good-naturedly and handed him a guitar-looking instrument. He strummed a few tunes with them and proved himself quite up to the task. Someone joined in, singing in the Draig language. It was a beautiful ballad.

“That was very kind,” Olek said as Nadja once more settled beside him. His hand skimmed across her lower back and she shivered. “The boy has no family. It is good you all claimed responsibility for him. It shows you as compassionate in your rule.”

“The men did not seem too pleased,” Nadja answered.

“Ah, but they will never question your authority now that you have proven yourselves firm in your purpose. When the soreness wears off they’ll respect you.” Olek’s voice dipped. “As I respect you.”

Nadja blushed, finding pleasure in his compliment. All too aware of being on public display, she eased slightly back from his mouth, which dipped closer as if he would kiss her.

“Do you play?” Nadja asked, nodding her head to where Yusef sat with the musicians.

“I never really took to it,” Olek answered. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

His eyes again dipped to her mouth and she blushed. Nadja gently pushed his hand from her hip and reached to pick up her goblet. Olek sighed in loud, groaning disappointment.

The king glanced at them. Nadja nearly choked on her drink. The queen chuckled at the purposefully wounded look her son was affecting.

Under her breath, she scolded, “Stop it.”

“What?” he returned innocently, his green eyes shining with liquid gaiety.

“You know what,” she said, doing her best not to turn five shades of pink as he licked his lips and looked at hers. His brow rose slightly as if considering the taste of her mouth. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Why?” he feigned a frown, though his eyes still shone.

“Because we are in public. It isn’t appropriate.”

“But…” Olek glanced around to the lower tables. Some wives sat lovingly on husbands’ laps. Couples kissed as freely and naturally as breathing.

“No,” she commanded regally, already knowing what he was going to say. “I am well aware of what everyone else is doing. However, you’re a prince and you should act with a little more decorum.”

Olek leaned to look over her shoulder and winked. The king laughed heartily behind her. She turned, mortified.

“Well spoken, my dear,” the king said. “I see you have him well in hand.”

The queen punched the king’s arm lovingly and King Llyr instantly leaned over to plant a big kiss on her lips for all to see.

Nadja turned her face away. Olek laughed at his parents and no one seemed to notice from the lower tables.

“So solarfl—” Olek began hopefully.

“Don’t even think it,” she grumbled, cutting him off.

Olek chuckled loudly. Leaning into her ear, as if he couldn’t help himself, he whispered, “Until later, then.”

He nipped playfully at her earlobe before pulling away. Nadja shivered, unable to pull her eyes away from the table for a long moment.

“King Llyr.” The dark tone sent chills over her body and forced her to look at the large blond Var who had snarled at her earlier. He stood in front of the raised platform staring up at them.

Nadja unconsciously inched closer to Olek, leaning into him for support. She forgot her embarrassment. Her hand rested on his leg beneath the table. His arm was stiff as it came around her side and pulled her closer into a protective embrace. She felt the tension radiating off her husband.

The Var man bowed, though the gesture looked more dutiful than respectful. He wore the emblem of a tiger on his chest where the Draig royals had a dragon. The Var warrior didn’t look directly at her and she was glad for it.

Nadja couldn’t understand what was being said between the visitor and the king. She held quiet, intently studying the Var’s expressions for a sign of what was happening. She hoped Olek would fill her in later.

“Many blessings on your unions,” the stranger said in the Old Star language. “May your reign be long.”

“As may yours, King Attor,” King Llyr returned. He stood to show a respect that didn’t reflect wholeheartedly in his eyes.

Olek gripped her waist tighter and she shivered in fear. King Attor’s gaze shifted to the side, glancing over the length of the table before he walked away.

“What just happened?” Nadja asked, turning to see Olek’s gaze focused on the Var’s back.

Without answering her, Olek tilted his head to Yusef. The dark prince ended his part in the song early and passed his instrument back to its owner. Nadja watched as he followed the Var king and his entourage out of the common hall.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, touching Olek’s chest to get his attention. He blinked, breaking his concentration to study her curious face. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Everything is fine, solarflower.”

Nadja frowned, not liking his placating tone as his eyes turned once more to the door the Var had disappeared through.

Chapter 27

The celebration livened up after the Var ambassadors left. The musicians played louder and couples gathered together to dance. The local dance steps seemed simple enough. Nadja watched Olek from the corner of her eye. She hoped he would ask her to join him on the dance floor, but he seemed preoccupied.

Sometime after Yusef had followed the Var king out, a beefy giant of a man came to the head table, speaking first to the king in a soft murmur, but he drew the attention of the princes, who also leaned in to hear his Draig words. Nadja watched their expressions stiffen and their eyes narrow, but other than that, they nodded and turned back to their wives.

“What’s going on?” Nadja asked. Olek’s gaze was hard and his breathing controlled. “What’s happening?”

“There’s been a little trouble with the Var guests,” Olek tried to smile for her. The look failed. “Nothing for you to be concerned about, but I have to go.”

“Olek, wait.” Nadja wanted him to confide in her. She felt his unease and it scared her.

“I’ll have one of the men escort you home.” He waved down to a nearby table. Nadja glanced down at the guard. He bowed at her as Olek gave him his orders.

Leaning over, Olek lightly kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“But…” Nadja tried to stop him. It was too late. He was already down the raised platform to join his brother, Ualan. They walked leisurely out the side door, trying not to draw attention to themselves.

The king stood and bowed to his wife. “My queen.”

Queen Mede took her husband’s arm and, smiling, she made her way along the platform with him. She lightly hooked Zoran’s arm as she passed by her son, urging him to join in escorting her out. They acted as if nothing was amiss.

Nadja looked down to where the soldier waited for her. He bowed again, offering up his hand to lead her around the table. Morrigan was already being led away by a servant. The woman appeared uncommonly pale. Nadja wondered if Ualan had told Morrigan what was happening, but she was too far ahead to catch up.

At a loss, she had no choice but to follow the guard. He was quiet as he escorted her through the passageways to her home. Nadja wondered if their claiming of Heinrich had upset him. She thought about saying something, but remembered how Olek told her the men would respect her for it later. Once she said the command to open the door, the warrior moved to the side and put his back to the hallway wall to stand guard.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked politely. “You don’t have to wait out here.”

The guard shook his head in denial and gave a small smile of thanks but didn’t speak.

“Goodnight, then,” she told him. He stood straight and stiff, keeping his eyes forward on the opposite wall. Nadja let loose a small sigh and went inside.

Chapter 28

Olek and Ualan rushed through the castle passageways to the medical wing where Yusef was being delivered. Agro hadn’t been able to tell them much, only that Yusef had been attacked from behind while seeing King Attor out of the keep and off Draig land. Agro seemed fairly confident it wasn’t the Var king or his ambassadors who’d dealt the blows, but the Var were not dismissed as suspects in the tragedy.

Hearing Yusef’s howl of pain, the princes began to sprint. King Llyr, Prince Zoran, and Queen Mede were quick behind them. It had been hard not to run out of the main hall, but it would do no good to alarm the castle until they knew what was happening.

Seeing Agro pin Prince Yusef to a bed as the doctors worked, Ualan and Olek stepped in to relieve the man of his position. Agro backed away, his face strained. Yusef fought like a yorkin, but had lost so much blood he was weakening quickly.

“He was stabbed in the back. He didn’t have time to shift,” Agro said. “I sent a couple of palace guards to look for clues and to clean up the mess before anyone else saw it.”

King Llyr nodded his thanks. Agro was a good friend and a loyal soldier. He’d grown up with the four princes. Speaking low, the king commanded, “Agro, gather our best trackers and see if they can pick up a scent.”

“I’ll lead them myself,” Agro stated, seeming relieved to have orders. Shifting into his fearsome Draig form, he took off down the hall at lightning speed.

“My wife,” Yusef moaned, nearly incoherent, before passing out.

Ualan turned to his father as he let his now still brother go. Olek followed suit. “We should send someone to the outpost to gather his wife.”

“She’s in chastisement,” Olek said. “Send someone discreet and make sure they know not to scare her with a dragon-shift. We don’t know how much Yusef has told her about us. She might not even know she’s royalty.”

Zoran nodded in agreement, glancing over from where he spoke to a guard. He waved the man away.

“I’ve taken care of it,” Zoran said. “They are getting her right now.”

The family turned their attention to where the doctors worked in near silence. The royal family kept out of the way, but stayed close enough to witness everything that happened. Their expressions were tight as they waited to hear if Yusef would pull through.

“We have to stop the bleeding first,” Tal explained to the family, “before we can put him in the medical booth. He’s in too fragile a state to move.”

“Someone, grab me that handheld,” Dr. Ector ordered, keeping a hand pressed to the seeping wound. Tal ran out of the room to fetch the device.

Olek did not flinch at the sight of the jagged wounds, though inside his stomach churned with worry. Half an hour later, Yusef was bandaged but still unconscious. The doctor explained that, since he hadn’t been given time to shift into Draig form, the knife wounds had penetrated deep beneath the surface of his skin. Yusef was still in danger and if they tried to stand him up in the medical booth they might do more harm than good. However, with constant care and monitoring, they were hopeful for a complete recovery.

The king and queen said nothing at the news. Queen Mede laid her head against her husband’s shoulder. “Hopeful” was hardly a comforting word to two parents looking at their fallen son.

Olek silently made his way down the red halls to his home. Seeing the soldier he’d sent to guard Nadja still at attention outside his door, he waved the man from his post. “Is all well?”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Thank you for staying. Please, rejoin the celebration if you like,” Olek said by way of dismissal.

The guard bowed dutifully and left.

Nadja still wore her formal gown when he walked in. She looked as if she’d been frantically pacing the floor, waiting for his return. As the door slid open, she spun to him, hastening forward.

“Are you all right?” Her face pulled tight with worry as she examined him. “What happened?”

Olek didn’t wish to alarm her. She hadn’t asked for the burden of their royal life and he didn’t want to trouble her with it. “Everything’s fine, solarflower.”

“Then what was that all about?” Nadja demanded. “Why was there a guard left at the door? I thought we were being attacked.”

“Yusef had a small accident. The doctors say he’ll be fine.”

Nadja took him at his word and let go of a heavy sigh. “You had me so worried. I was sure something bad had happened with the Var ambassadors. I can’t explain why, but I feel there is something off with that King Attor. He reminds me of,” she paused and took a deep breath before finishing weakly, “He reminds me of people I’ve met over the years.”

The light was dim from the drawn curtains overhead. Olek could see his wife easily though, as he let his eyes shift. He glanced over her gown, wanting desperately to hold her.

Nadja saw the look and instantly backed away. “Oh, no. Stop right there. I know what you’re thinking when your eyes turn all liquid-y like that. Your Draig genetics give you away, Prince Olek.”

He stiffened. She knew? “My genetics?”

“All of you, even the queen, get that little eye color shift when you examine something closely. I know you have some kind of super eyesight going on.” She put her thumb in front of her bodice and pointed upwards. “So you can just stop zooming in on my chest this instant. I’m not through discussing what happened tonight.”

“Who said we had to stop talking?”

“Wait, you don’t have x-ray vision do you?” She gasped at the idea and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can everyone see me naked under my clothes?”

Olek chuckled. “Unfortunately, no, I cannot see through your clothes. So how about you take them off?”

Nadja sighed, dropping her arms. “Oh, good.”

“So you’ll take them off for me?” he asked, hopeful.

“So do you have super sight?” She ignored his request.

“I have normal Draig vision.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Fascinating.” She glanced around and talked more to herself than to him. The brilliance of her shining eyes captured him. Her hair was still piled perfectly on her head. She had been the loveliest woman in the hall that night and she belonged to him. The very idea of it took his breath away. “I have this thing…somewhere…where did I put that bag?” She moved toward her laboratory. “I want to examine your eyes more closely. Sit on the couch so I can—”

“Nadja?”

“Yes?” She stopped and tilted her head to study him.

“If I let you examine my eyes, will you at least take off your gown to do it?” Olek stalked toward her, letting her see in his expression and body movements exactly what he intended to do to her. Enough was enough. It was time they consummated their marriage.

Nadja backed away, around the water fountain. “Wait. Shouldn’t we, ah?”

“I want to collect that kiss you owe me.”

“What kiss?” Nadja asked, feigning innocence. She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Before we left tonight, you promised me a kiss,” Olek stated. He knew she didn’t stand a chance at escape. “Here, let me remind you.”

Darting forward, he wrapped his fingers over her hips. Nadja gasped. He hit a clasp with his thumb and pushed the overdress’ material aside so he could slide his hands over the cream colored underskirt to better cup her ass.

“I believe we were right about here,” he said, giving her a playful squeeze. By all that was sacred, she felt so right against him. “You promised to kiss me after the coronation if I didn’t mess up your hair.”

Nadja shivered visibly. Her lids dipped low over her eyes. He splayed a hand over her lower back and firmly pressed, forcing her cleavage to push against him. Peering down, he devoured the creamy globes of her breasts with his hot gaze.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered, his breath falling over her bare neck and cleavage. “Where is my kiss?”

Nadja leaned forward to quickly peck his lips. When she pulled back, he wasn’t smiling.

“Naughty solarflower,” Olek growled, shaking his head in denial. “That is no kiss.”

“You didn’t specify,” Nadja countered. “Now, let me go so I can talk to you.”

“You talk,” he said, a mischievous grin coming over his features, “and I’ll show you what a real kiss is.”

Nadja gasped as his head dipped down to the top of her breast and he instantly began devouring it with his passionate lips. Whatever conversation she was so keen on having ended in that moment. She weakened into his arms. Her heart pounded beneath his tongue, thundering wildly.

When he’d thoroughly melted her will to his, he lifted his head and grinned. “You don’t speak, solarflower? I thought you wanted to talk.”

“I…” she began feebly, as if trying for the life of her to remember what she wanted to ask him. She gave a small shake of her head.

“How about I speak, then?” Olek brushed his face against her chest briefly before again staring into her eyes. “Shall I tell you what I have been thinking about most of the night?”

Nadja didn’t move. Her eyes widened. His hands grew bolder on her back, working against her skirt to expose the backs of her legs.

“Should I tell you what I am always thinking about?” he continued passionately, claiming her with his intense gaze.

He found the firm cheek of her ass and roughly caressed the naked flesh.

“Yes,” Nadja panted, not turning her eyes away. He smelled the scent of her body and knew she had become moist just listening to his seductive voice.

“I think about you, solarflower, all the time. I think about having you in a hundred different ways.”

Nadja merely stared at the bold admission.

“Shall I tell you how I think about taking you?” Olek leaned forward to lick at her neck.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed. “Yes, tell me.”

“I want to make love to you here on the floor, on that couch, in the bath, on the fur rug in our bedroom before the fireplace. Every time I see you, I want to strip you naked and have my wicked way with you. I want to tie you up and conquer you. I want bend you over my office desk and take you from behind. I can barely think straight anymore. You have completely taken over my thoughts.” Olek grew bolder, licking, nipping, kissing his way along to her collarbone. “My cock is always stiff. Feel it, feel how hard I am for you. I’m going crazy, solarflower. I need to be inside you. I want to feel your wet, soft….”

Olek didn’t wait for her to obey. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his clothed erection. She made a weak noise and didn’t pull away. Tentative fingers moved over the shaft and he nearly came in his pants.

“This is what you do to me, Nadja.” Olek placed his hand back under her skirt to edge his fingers along her sex from behind. They inched between her thighs to test her response to him. He wasn’t disappointed as he slid along her moist lips. “Tell me you’re hot for me. Tell me to take you right now, right here. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“Ah,” Nadja’s mouth fell open and she nodded in fervent agreement. Before she could say the words, an ungodly high-pitched screech came from the hallway.

“Draea Anwealda!” The shout was followed by a frantic knock on the door.

Nadja jolted in alarm, blinking rapidly as she tried to pull away.

“Draea Anwealda,” a woman’s panicked voice called louder. “Come quickly, you and the princess.”

Olek slowly came out of his passion-laden haze. He reluctantly let his wife go. She gave a little shiver of protest.

By all the gods, what had he done to deserve such agony? It was difficult, but Olek managed to tear himself away from her. He couldn’t take much more of this painful denial. The dragon inside threatened him with a shift to ease his suffering. He forced the tingling in his limbs to subside.

“What is it?” Nadja asked. “What is she saying?”

“She’s saying we need to go.” His voice was hoarser than it should have been.

Oh, and how his cock throbbed and pulsed with a tight erection. His gut clenched painfully.

“Where?”

“I’m not sure. Come on.”

Nadja righted her gown as Olek yelled for the door to open. He took her hand, leading her forward.

“What is it?” Seeing it was the doctor’s wife, he froze. Yusef?

“You are needed in the medical wing,” the woman said, her Draig words coming out fast. “It’s the princesses, they’ve been poisoned. Bring Princess Nadja. I must gather the others.”

The woman ran off. Olek turned to his wife and cupped her face to study her closely. She was pale and trembling as he examined her.

“What are you doing?” Nadja asked, fighting Olek as he tried to turn her face from side to side in his inspection.

“Come on, we have to go.” Terror filled him. Without waiting for her to agree, he ran, pulling his panicked wife behind him.

Chapter 29

Nadja tried not to stumble as she was pulled through the hall. “Olek, stop. What is happening? My slippers…”

He did stop. Only, it wasn’t to answer her question. Instead, he lifted her into his arms and ran faster. She had no choice but to hold on as she bounced in his arms. Her chest heaved from a combination of the short burst of exercise and stress. Olek carried her to the medical wing before setting her down.

“Please, tell me what’s going on. Is someone hurt?” She followed him inside. The royal family was already there. Ualan looked tortured, as he stared blindly at the operating room door. Yusef rested on the bed, his skin too pale and his entire upper body bandaged. To Olek, she said, “You said it was just a little accident.”

Olek didn’t have time to explain. There was a rush of talk she couldn’t understand. Queen Mede shook her head, speaking frantically to Olek and motioning at Nadja and Pia.

“Olek?” Nadja insisted, still confused.

“The doctor will explain.” Olek took her hand, ushering her forward to an awaiting doctor covered completely with protective gear, including goggles over his eyes. Zoran did the same with a confused Pia. Nadja trembled. This couldn’t be good.

“Follow the doctor, Nadja,” Olek insisted. “We’ll talk as soon as you’re done.”

“I’ll go with them,” the queen said, following the princesses to the back room. But, the doctor turned and motioned that she should stay out. The queen frowned but obeyed the man.

“But,” Pia protested Zoran’s insistent shove. “I feel fine. I haven’t been poisoned.”

Nadja’s eyes widened in horror at the statement and she spun around to stare at Olek. His lips tightened as he nodded for her to go on. Queen Mede’s hand was on her arm, pushing her forward.

“Go, dear,” the queen said. “Hurry.”

Nadja went into the room with Pia. The doctor turned to the women, taking out two handheld medic units. Without comment, he grabbed their arms and took a sample of their blood before going to the counter to test it.

“This may take a while,” the doctor said. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” Nadja admitted at the same moment Pia answered, “Fine.”

Olek waited outside of the exam room. The fear was almost too much. He couldn’t lose Nadja. He’d only just found her. She was his blessing from the gods.

“Will someone explain how this could happen?” Zoran demanded. “In our home.”

“I have ordered all the food and wine tested, starting with Princess Morrigan’s,” the king said. “They think she must have ingested the poison for there to be so much in her system.”

Olek couldn’t meet his brother’s gaze. He felt responsible. As ambassador, he’d arranged for the Var to come.

“We all knew the risks in inviting King Attor and we all agreed to them,” the queen said.

“Princess Morrigan has fallen victim to poisoning and is possibly dying in the other room. Yusef is unconscious.” Zoran pointed to the door. “My wife is in there being tested.”

Ualan came forward and glared at his commander brother. He balled his hand into a fist in warning. “She will not die.”

“She survived enslavement,” the queen said, her tone calm in an effort to defuse the situation. “She is a very strong woman. The gods would not have given her to you otherwise. The same holds true for Pia and Nadja. You are all honorable and deserving, my sons. The gods would not bless you only to take your wives away so fast.”

Zoran’s voice deepened into a growl as his face began to harden with a shift. His eyes glowed with yellow as deadly fangs extended from his gums. “If any in our family die there will be blood.”

“There will be blood either way,” Ualan swore, his tone just as dark.

Olek nodded in agreement, staring at the door that kept Nadja from him. He would be unable to speak until he knew his wife would live.

“Well?” Olek rushed forward, nearly toppling over the doctor as he came from the exam room. Zoran’s footsteps sounded behind him. The doctor flinched, stumbling back as he was ambushed by distraught husbands.

“The princesses are fine. I tested their blood three times.” The doctor took a slow step back and to the side to get out of the way of the door. “You may go inside.”

Olek almost fell over with relief. The princesses came out of the door. Nadja was stiff as he pulled her into his arms, but she said nothing and didn’t pull away. Pia nodded at Zoran, not really showing any emotion.

“I must check on Morrigan.” Nadja pushed away from him and went to follow the doctor.

Nadja questioned the doctor extensively about Morrigan’s illness. Olek watched as his wife assisted in rolling the woman onto her side as she threw up in her sleep.

Ualan put his hand on Olek’s shoulder. “Your wife has a gift for caretaking.”

The others sat quietly by the motionless Yusef. Morrigan fought bravely and in the end she won the battle for her life—albeit barely. Ualan seemed to breathe easier with the news and took his post by his wife’s side, where he clearly intended to stay until she opened her eyes.

By the time Olek walked Nadja out of Morrigan’s room, it had been discovered that the poison was in a goblet Morrigan had drunk from. The servant responsible for giving her the drink had been dealt with. The man wasn’t at fault. One of King Attor’s men had distracted him as he was preparing to serve the royal drink.

The drink had been meant for the king and queen. But, when King Attor went up to speak, the servant had placed the goblet before Morrigan instead, so as not to get in their way. The Var king couldn’t have realized Princess Morrigan wouldn’t recognize the Draig king’s seal and would take the drink for herself. If Queen Mede or King Llyr had taken a sip, they would have died instantly. The poison worked slower on humans.

Just when Olek thought the family could relax after the long night, the soldier Zoran sent to gather Yusef’s wife came back alone. He looked worried, standing in the doorway, eyeing the royal family.

“Where is she?” Zoran demanded, as soon as he saw the man. Nadja jumped at the noise.

“My lady is gone,” the soldier said. “There looks to have been a struggle. We smelled Var blood, but no human. She could still be alive.”

The king growled.

“We picked up their scent in the forest. I ordered the others to follow it,” the soldier said to Zoran.

“You should call the soldiers back and get one of your best trackers on it,” Olek stated, calmer than his brother. Inside his stomach was tight. “Let them think they have escaped with her into the shadowed marshes. Once we find their location, we’ll go after them alone and reclaim her for Yusef.”

“Send Saben. He has experience with the shadowed marshes,” the queen said.

“Olek’s right,” Zoran stated to his father, switching his language in deference to the listening women so they wouldn’t hear what he had to say. “If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her right then. They took her for a reason. If they hear the men coming after them, they could get rid of her to escape.”

The men nodded in agreement, knowing revenge was going to be theirs.

Nadja remained quiet, though she didn’t like the idea of Olek going out to do battle. Whatever Zoran was saying couldn’t be good if he felt the need to change his language to say it. The sooner she learned their language the better. She hated being talked around like a child unable to handle reality.

When it was determined nothing else could be done, the royal family departed for their homes. Only Ualan stayed to sit vigil over his wife and brother, promising to send news if there were any changes.

Nadja yawned as Olek called open their front door. She stepped inside first, her feet dragging as she walked in front of him. As the door slid shut locking them in, he tugged her into his arms, resting her back against his chest. He tenderly leaned his chin on her head.

“I’m so glad you’re not hurt,” Olek whispered, giving her neck a light kiss.

Nadja stiffened.

“Nadja?”

“Get away from me, Olek,” Nadja said, pulling free. She turned to stare at him. Anger seeped from every pore, but her voice was deadly quiet. “You lied to me about your brother and thrust me at the doctor without so much as an explanation as to what was happening. I can’t talk to you right now.”

She left him standing in the hall, going to the bedroom. With a long, tired sigh she unbuttoned her overdress. She threw the formal gown over a chair, sliding into more comfortable clothes before crawling into bed.

Olek’s body stung with the rejection. Slowly, he walked over to his office. Running his hand over the wall, he opened a hidden liquor cabinet. He poured himself a stiff drink and sat down, sipping at it wearily.

He knew Nadja had never wanted to be a princess. She’d told him that from the beginning, but he had foolishly hoped she’d come around. This was not how married life was supposed to be.

Finishing his drink, he went to the bedroom and changed his clothes. He debated whether or not he should sleep on the couch, but then decided that his bed, by his wife, was where he belonged. He slipped next to her beneath the coverlet.

Nadja mumbled, but didn’t wake. Olek was glad she didn’t resist him when he pulled her into his arms. His body curled intimately around hers and the thickness of their cotton clothing wasn’t enough to keep the softness of her body from stirring him to full attention. Cursing his one-tracked erection, he refused to let her go. No matter how much holding her made him ache, the alternative was so much worse.

Chapter 30

Nadja awoke, startled from her erotic dreams by Olek’s fingers twitching under her breast. His arm draped over her body, lightly holding her to his chest. The hard impression of his cock molded against her ass. Even breathing told her he slept.

In a sleepy daze, she turned in his arms. She reached up the side of his body, unable to see his face in the dark room. Her fingers glanced against his naked waist, tripping on his shirt as they moved up to feel him. She rocked her hips naturally closer to where his arousal stood tall and ready. She moaned to feel the hard length of his body and she searched blindly to kiss him.

He had been in her dreams again. Maybe she was still dreaming. She didn’t stop to think as she opened her mouth to lay claim to his.

Olek gasped, instantly waking, only to groan as Nadja’s softer body rubbed into his harder one. She parted her lips against his in a tender, sleepy kiss. Her hands were on his chest, stroking up to his neck as she urged him to her. Her thigh draped over his hip, her foot restlessly digging along the back of his calf to pull him closer.

She stayed quiet, wrapped in the spell of their lovemaking. He let his hand roam over her body, as if unable to resist the hot passion she awoke in him. She touched his waist, lazily urging the shirt from his chest. Her fingers inched over his muscles, grazing over his tight nipples. Olek lifted and threw off the shirt, before resting against her once more.

Nadja moaned lightly as his warm arms embraced her. Hands explored in aimless directions. Their intermingling breaths created intimate music. He rolled her onto her back and placed kisses on her mouth, her cheeks and throat, before tugging her shirt off and tossing it aside.

“I love the feel of your skin,” he whispered. “So soft, so fragile, so warm.”

Nadja discovered the delightful curve of his lower back as it sloped to his ass beneath the loose pants. She dipped her hands beneath the cotton material causing him to groan against her breast. The sound sent chills over her body, shooting like fireworks throughout her skin. His hips jerked and flexed as she worked her way around to the front. He lifted his stomach to allow her access. Soon, her hands were on the source of his fiery heat, stroking him, feeling him, discovering him.

Nadja wasn’t scared. She’d never be scared of such a wonderful dream. Her eyes were closed, so she had to be dreaming.

“The whole kingdom might come to our door, but I’m not stopping this time.” The soft words barely penetrated her ears over the sound of her fervent heartbeat.

“Olek,” she moaned, wanting him to touch her as she touched him. He was so hot against her palm.

He answered her plea with supernatural speed, ridding them both of their remaining clothing, so there were no boundaries. Her smooth legs ran against his hair-roughened thighs and the sensation was almost more than she could bear.

As if wanting to make sure she was ready for him, Olek kissed a fevered trail down her stomach. Nadja gasped in surprise when his tongue flicked her navel. His mouth pressed a light kiss onto each hip before he dipped lower to taste her sweetness. Nadja tried to close her legs, but his hands strayed to her thighs, parting her wide for him.

He tested her wetness with his tongue. She gasped in astonishment at the sensation. Her sex was more than ready to accept him. Olek’s kiss only deepened and he drank deeply from her, causing her legs to tense and her hips to arch against his mouth. She let loose a ragged moan of approval. A soft tremor started deep inside her body. She pressed her thighs against the side of his head, trapping his face against her pussy. Tiny quivers of pleasure radiated each time his lips moved. She pushed up on the bed, unsure if she was trying to move closer or pull away because the building torture was too much.

Olek pushed back, gasping for breath as his lips were freed from her smothering hold. He swiftly crawled over her, rising up on his hands as his cock sought to burrow naturally into her. Nadja felt a momentary wave of apprehension. She’d felt how big he was against her hand, and had seen the size of him. The heat of his arousal seared her thigh, edging ever closer to stake claim.

“Olek.” Nadja’s breath hitched in her throat. She wanted to trust him but was frightened.

Olek moaned. His words came out in a hoarse whisper, as he said, “You feel so good. I have to have you.”

He guided himself to her. Nadja’s eyes widened. Her sex tightened around him as he eased his way in. She gripped his arms. Olek groaned in obvious ecstasy, as he fitted himself deeper.

A burning sensation flooded her as he stretched her pussy. Tears threatened and she bit her lip. He delved deeper and she panicked, hitting at his arm. “Stop.”

Olek blinked in surprise. Her tight muscles clenched him. His expression tightened and she knew he wanted to thrust deeper, but he held still, allowing her body time to get used to him. Her mind tried to adjust to the idea that she could feel so full and hot, and so wickedly wet at the same time.

“It’s all right, solarflower,” he whispered against her neck, his voice unsteady. “Try to relax.”

“I don’t think this is working,” she said.

Olek’s laugh sounded painful. He eased a little deeper. “You were made to take me like this.”

Nadja stayed tense, not so sure. Olek pulled back, taking shallow thrusts as he tried to stretch her to accept him. Oh, but it was bittersweet agony.

“That’s it,” he urged, moving his hips a little faster. “I’ve waited too long to have you, have been pushed too far without release. I can’t tell you how hard it is to keep from delving fully into your silken depths. I can barely stop to think, but if you tell me to right now, I will find a way to stop. I never want to hurt you.”

Nadja couldn’t find the words to answer him. She didn’t want him to stop.

The fire began to change and she moved her hips as pain turned to pleasure. It built inside her. He gave a shallow thrust, completely replacing the white heat of his initial testing. “That’s it, solarflower. I just want to go a little deeper, just a little—oh, ye-ah.”

Nadja trembled at the sensation overtaking her sex. Before she could discover the true depths of what her body was trying to show her, Olek tensed. His sweaty skin slid beneath her hands, shuddering violently. His yell resounded over her, loud and conquering.

Nadja’s hand fell away at the sound. She panted for breath. A tiny ripple unlike anything she had ever experienced caused a curious warmth to spread over her limbs, making them weak. Her sex hurt, but it wasn’t all bad.

Olek groaned as he slid himself from her, completely sated. Reaching for her, he pulled her into his arm, tiredly kissing her temple. He brushed her hair with his nose, snuggling into her, curving his body to fit hers.

“I’m told the first time is always a little rough,” he whispered into her hair. “As your body gets used to me, it will be better. I promise you, my sweet solarflower.”

Nadja shivered, not sure she could take any more of what he had to show her. Olek held her as they both fell asleep.

When Nadja awoke her body stung. Her first thought was, It is way too early to be having another womanly cramp.

Her second thought was, What happened to my clothes?

The third thought, as her eyes popped open and she became wide awake, was, Why is someone kissing my neck?

“Fire,” she croaked. Nadja sat up as the fireplace lit. Grabbing the blanket to her chest, she looked over at Olek in the dim light. He lay next to her on the bed, grinning like a fool.

Nadja stared at him, her mind trying to focus on what was happening.

“Lie down,” he urged her, reaching for her naked body. Her skin lit with memories as he ran his palms over the flesh of her back. Bumps rose over her skin, though she wasn’t anywhere near chilly.

Nadja gave a tiny jump and inched her way to the side of the large mattress. She pulled the blanket with her as she stood to get away from him. When she turned, Olek lounged on the bed naked, wearing nothing but a confused frown and a very disturbingly ready arousal.

“What are you doing?” she asked hotly. Her stomach muscles twinged as she tried to move. She let her gaze travel over his form, trying not to stare at the most predominant part of him, vying for attention.

“Nadja?” Olek sat up, clearly confused by her reaction.

The full force of what they had done hit her like an asteroid to the head. She swallowed nervously. Her attention went to a telltale red stain on the bed where she’d been sleeping. She shook her head in denial. He was gloriously naked and she tried her best not to look at his handsome body. Eyeing the stain, she said in disbelief, “I was dreaming. That wasn’t real.”

Olek smiled, as he moved to sit, completely unembarrassed. Nadja turned her eyes away as she rushed into the closet to find clothes.

“Nadja?” Olek laughed, obviously in very good spirits. “It’s all right, come back to bed.”

Nadja grabbed clothing, not really paying attention to what she chose, before she came out of the closet still sporting the bedcovers around her naked body. She shook her head in denial. Her arms laden with clothes, she hurried past him to the bedroom door.

Olek’s body sung with released tension and he felt like he’d actually slept instead of tossing and turning all night. If his wife wasn’t too sore, he was more than willing to go at it again. Then she ran out of the room. Well, “ran” was a strong word. She mostly tripped on the bedding-turned-dress as she tried to run from the room.

“Nadja.” This time his voice was sterner.

She stopped a few steps from her goal and turned to glare at him. To his surprise, her volume actually rose as she yelled her irritated answer. “We shouldn’t have done this. I’m still mad at you. Oh, how could you do this to me?”

“Nadja,” he tried to reason. “You woke me up. You were kissing me.”

“I told you I was dreaming. If I had been awake I would never have kissed you. I don’t even like you right now. Why would I kiss you when I don’t like you?” She turned away from him, but didn’t leave.

Olek got out of the bed, going to stand behind her without bothering to cover his nakedness. At the sound of his footsteps, Nadja propelled into action, slipping on the covers as she tried to get away from him.

“What are you so mad about?” he asked in exasperation, at a complete loss. He tossed his arms into the air as she disappeared out of the door.

She returned, kicking the bedspread as she walked. “You lied to me about Yusef. You said it was no big deal.” Then turning, she left again. This time he followed. She kept ranting. “You’re always so secretive about what you do—your oh-so-important princely duties. Let’s not tell Nadja about them, she obviously can’t be trusted!”

“I didn’t want to burden you with it.” He followed her as she stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He heard material drop on the floor as he reached for the handle. As he barged in after her, she was reaching for the door lock. She snatched her hand back.

Nadja clutched the blanket. Her clothes were piled on the floor at her feet. “You didn’t have to lie about it. You said he was in an accident. I saw his wounds, Olek. What happened? Did he fall onto a knife about fifteen times?”

Her beautiful blue eyes stared at him in obvious disbelief.

“I was trying to protect you. I know you hate being a princess and I didn’t want you to be frightened by what happened to Yusef.”

“That isn’t your decision to make. I have every right to know if my life may possibly be in danger.”

“I am your husband,” he said, feeling his face redden in anger. All he wanted to do that morning was make love to her again and again, and now he found himself in a full blown fight. “It is my job to decide what is best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” She howled with laughter. The bitter sound held little humor. “You just want to control me. You may talk sweet, Olek, but you’re just like my father. You just want to tell me what to do, where to go and who to be. Soon you’ll be telling me what I can and can’t eat, who I can talk to, what I can be, what I can wear, what I can say, when to smile and laugh and walk and… Well, I’ve had it with being controlled and I don’t need you or anyone trying to protect me.”

Olek detected the strange tone that came to her voice as she said the words. He had known the calm dam inside her would eventually break. She was raging mad. There was nothing he could say to fight that kind of raw anger, not until she cooled and could hear him, not until she could listen to reason.

“Now get out!” she screamed. “I’m going to take a bath and then I’ll go check on Morrigan to see if she’s awake and….”

“Fine.” He growled in the back of his throat.

“Fine!”

Olek slammed the door behind him and he heard her lock it. He needed to put distance between them. His dragon surged to the surface, shifting his fingertips into talons and his face into a hard mask. Tilting his head, his hearing became powerful enough to hear the whisper of material as she dropped the covers before climbing angrily into the bath.

Perhaps it was best if he left. Battle awaited him. Princess Olena needed to be rescued. The possibility of fighting the cat-shifters in battle was preferable to facing his angry wife.

Chapter 31

By the time Nadja finished taking out her anger on her skin as she scrubbed and ranted to herself in the bath, Olek was no longer in the house. She didn’t care. Her thoughts churned in her head, a combination of Olek’s lies and her father’s much more dire crimes. In her heart she knew Olek was not her father, not even close. It had not been fair to compare them.

Yet, Olek had lied. Even if he did it to protect her, he still did it. She didn’t want to be protected or controlled. She wanted freedom. She wanted a lifetime dedicated to the good she could do for others.

After dressing in a serviceable gown, Nadja went to her laboratory and carefully packaged one of her experimental concoctions to get it ready for transport to the northern mountains. She had no idea if Lord Mirek would trust her enough to give it to his wife, but the herbal tincture should help to lessen Riona’s symptoms while she was in her coma. Mirek had never met her and had no reason to trust her, but Nadja had to try.

She made her way through the halls to the medical wing, stopping to ask a servant to ensure her package and note were delivered. A kind lady greeted her as she entered medical ward. Nadja discovered the woman, Alanda, was married to one of the doctors, and helped out when there was a patient to watch over like now. Doc Aleksander had never paid attention to his staff and Nadja had always tried to make up for that neglect by pausing to talk to them when she could.

Morrigan had awakened and had been allowed to go home to finish recovering. The woman told her that the pain medicine they gave her would keep her sleeping most of the time. Prince Ualan had been in the medical ward with her, but now he was meeting with his brothers.

Yusef was still unconscious, and Alanda asked Nadja if she would stay for a while and sit with the patient until she returned from a short errand. Nadja readily agreed, pulling up a seat by Yusef.

As soon as she was alone, Nadja studied her brother-by-marriage. Finding a pin light, she lifted one of his eyelids and then the other. She took a reading of his levels with a handheld unit. Next, she began to examine his wounds, rotating him over to the side to see his back. She coated her hands with a protective film and then lifted the bandages to probe each wound gently. As she came to a particularly long gash, she frowned.

Going to the glass cases behind the desk, she was surprised to see they weren’t locked. Within seconds she had several bottles lined up and was mixing ingredients together. She had helped her father with post-operative care enough times to know what she was doing.

Returning to the patient, she rolled Yusef onto his back and brushed a piece of dark hair from his forehead. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “Yusef?”

No answer.

“I’m just going to give you a shot,” she continued. “It will make you feel better. It’s much better than those pain killers. It will help you heal faster.”

Still no answer.

Finding an old fashioned syringe, she filled it with her mixture and injected it into a vein in his arm.

Almost instantly, Yusef’s eyes opened. His body shuddered with pain. He looked quizzically at her and then down at the needle in his arm. His eyes narrowed.

“Shh,” she whispered, drawing the needle away. “This will help you.”

Yusef’s eyes fluttered closed, and the man relaxed.

Nadja threw the supplies into a trash compactor and pressed the button. Then, she put the bottles back where she found them. By the time Alanda came back, she was sitting innocently by Yusef’s side.

The woman took one look at the patient and shook her head. “I’ve been staring at him almost the whole night and I haven’t seen a change. But I actually think his color is coming back. Whatever you have been saying to him must have worked a miracle.”

Nadja smiled and said nothing. She walked out of the medical wing, feeling like she may have finally done something right for once with the knowledge her father had given her.

Olek gripped the center horn of his mount as he rode with Ualan, Zoran and the king. The ceffyl’s wide back shifted easily with each stride, used to the weight of a warrior rider. He’d been told the creatures were unique, but to him they looked like a cousin to the dragon of legend. Reptilian eyes looked out from a mammal’s face. The animal’s fanged mouth snapped open with a hiss of its long tongue. Large hooves balanced the thick, hairless body. Considering its size, the animal was deceptively fast and incredibly deadly.

Olek’s hand strayed to the short sword at his waist as the riding party slowed, falling into line behind his warrior brothers as they neared the shadowed marshes. The trackers admitted it had been difficult, but they found Yusef’s wife and her Var captors camping in the area. The marshes were an awful place, filled with the rotting smell of moldy plant life and animal carcasses. Decay masked even the barest traces of scent from all but the trackers, an elite bunch of Draig who were chosen for their highly developed sense of smell.

The trackers had said Princess Olena was still alive. Olek knew they had their orders, or they would have gone in to save her the moment they saw her. But protocol was clear. Someone needed to report the finding in case the mission failed.

The princess appeared unharmed, though she was tied to a tree and half naked. Olek silently wondered if she had been ill-used. It wouldn’t matter to Yusef. He would take her back and not judge her for it, so long as she hadn’t been willing. From the looks of her current position, Princess Olena was not a willing member of this group.

He thought of his wife. Olek didn’t know what he would do if the frustrating woman was ever taken away from him. Even when Olek wanted to strangle his lovely wife, he still wanted to kiss her. She was his other—very aggravating—half. Perhaps it was lucky Yusef wasn’t awake to know what was happening. By the time he recovered, Olena would be safe.

Olek growled low in the back of his throat, drawing the glances of his brothers, who shared his dark mood. The king frowned, clearly knowing all his sons were in a state of torment.

Last night had been so achingly sweet. It was the best Olek had ever felt. He’d longed to hold his wife since first seeing her, had been so desperate to claim her body with his. Even now, he wanted to turn his mount around and go to her. But, this morning she had ripped the feeling away from him. How dare she yell at him for trying to shield her from a harsh world? He only sought to protect her. She was his wife. He was honor bound to take care of her. That was what husbands did.

“Save your anger for the Var,” Zoran commanded softly. His shifted eyes glowed with deadly intent. “If spilling their blood does not placate our wrath, then nothing will.”

The princes and their father were spattered with blood after the battle with the Var. None of Olena’s four captors were left alive. The princess had killed one of the cat-shifters by breaking his neck with her legs as he hung from a tree.

“Hold, woman!” Olek ordered, fighting to keep his seat as Princess Olena tried to wiggle out of his arms. She elbowed him hard in the stomach and grunted. He had half a mind to take the fiery red-head back to the Var and drop her off with his apologies. Surely, he would be doing Yusef a favor.

Fine thanks that was for trying to keep her astride the ceffyl when she had passed out. Grabbing at the center horn of his mount, Olek righted himself. Only, this time, he was careful not to touch the woman in front of him any more than necessary.

Zoran and Ualan broke into snickering laughter. King Llyr watched with a vastly amused smile on his face. Olek’s brothers had refused to carry the aggravating woman.

Princess Olena turned emerald eyes around to glare at the moody Olek in warning. She wore Zoran’s overtunic. It flowed over her slender body. When he didn’t make the mistake of trying to hold her up again, she relaxed her tense arm.

“Where are we going?” Olena asked, as if she hadn’t just tried to throw him from his seat.

“Good morning to you too, princess,” Olek grumbled, rubbing his stomach. How he missed his gentle Nadja at this moment. After seeing the menace Yusef’s bride was, he wasn’t so disappointed in his married life. She might frustrate him, but at least Nadja didn’t try to kill him with her fists.

Olena grimaced at being called a princess and Olek felt somewhat vindicated. She had just discovered her new title and ranking, and was about as happy as the other brides had been when they were told. Apparently, the princes had found the only four women in the universes who didn’t dream of being royal, rich and adored by their husbands.

“Home,” Ualan stated in answer to her question, when he saw Olek had no intention of speaking to her.

Olek ignored the others, concentrating on keeping his ribs away from Olena’s elbows. The traveling party entered the small village outside the palace, riding through the center street. People came out of their houses and shops to watch the blood-covered soldiers. They were hardly shocked by the scene, though they were curious as to what caused it. Young boys waved at the passing royals, some cheered and shouted. The princes waved back solemnly, acknowledging them.

Olena stiffened as Olek reined in near the palace’s front gate. Her face paled. Olek swung down and lifted a hand to help her from the animal’s back, glad to finally be rid of the woman. Olena ignored him, jumping off the other side on her own.

Olek and Ualan grabbed the reins and walked the animals toward the stables. When they were out of earshot, Olek grumbled, “Fine thanks that was for saving her life. It makes me appreciate my wife’s continual silence.” He inhaled a deep breath and held it. His side was bruised from the ungrateful, accursed mor-forwyn. “I think she broke my rib.”

Ualan chuckled in dark humor. “I’m telling everyone you were beat upon by a woman.”

“Of course I was beat upon. What was I supposed to do? Restrain my brother’s wife?” Olek defended. She was Yusef’s wife, and a woman, so he couldn’t strike her back. The idea of Nadja’s softness sounded better and better with each passing moment.

“She has been shaken up too much, like a shake and pop chemical bomb,” Ualan said. “I am sure once Yusef deals with her she will be better.”

Olek looked at his older brother in confusion, but before he could ask what he meant, a stable boy came out to take the ceffyls’ reins. As Ualan answered the boy’s excited questions about the battle they had obviously been in, Olek slipped away and moved toward the castle gate. It was time he had a talk with his wife to clear a few matters up between them. Though he wanted to stop by the medical ward to see Yusef, he knew the fiery wench his brother had married would be there, so he decided against it. He’d had enough of Princess Olena to last him five Draig lifetimes.

Chapter 32

The news arrived that the men had safely retrieved Princess Olena from capture and were heading back to the keep. Nadja refused to go and greet them, as she was still too upset with Olek. He didn’t even bother to tell her he was leaving, and so the news that he was back, had come as a particular surprise to her.

“Typical,” she had said to the guard who delivered the message before she firmly shut the door in his surprised face.

Nadja was staring at her formula notebooks, not really seeing them in her anger, when Olek arrived home. She glanced up from the couch, ready to give him a cold dismissal when she noticed his blood-covered clothing. Instantly, she shot to her feet in shock. The notebook fell forgotten to the floor as her heart squeezed in her chest. Her lips worked frantically, but no sound came out as she rushed to him.

“Olek,” Nadja managed in horror. She reached a trembling hand to touch him, but then pulled back. “What…? Are you hurt?”

Pulling his arm from behind his back, Olek held out a bouquet of flowers.

Nadja blinked in confusion to see the offering. The beautiful flowers showcased white porcelain petals around a lovely light blue center ring. The light brown stem appeared as soft as silk.

“They’re called solarflowers,” Olek said. “I thought you might like them.”

“I-I do.” Nadja blushed. Her hands shook as she reached to take them. She had never seen flowers so beautiful, and the fact that he’d named her after something so exquisite, melted the anger from her until she was left smiling in pleasure. “Do I put them in water?”

“You can.” Olek let the stems slide from his fingers. “However, if you take the center bud out and plant it, you can grow them in your garden.”

Nadja nodded. She would definitely have to try that. Lifting them to her face, she found they were one of the most exotic perfumes she had ever smelled.

“Thank you.” Her eyes again found his marred clothing. “So you’re not hurt?”

“No. It’s not my blood, but the blood of our enemy. I told you I would protect you, Nadja, and today I have.”

She studied his chest.

“Does it upset you?” he asked.

“What?” Nadja inquired, finally meeting his eyes. “Blood?”

He nodded.

Nadja wanted to laugh. Ever since she was a child, she had seen more blood and gore than she cared to remember.

“No,” she answered. “Blood doesn’t bother me.”

“Because of your father’s work?”

Nadja nodded. Feeling rather soft from the gift of flowers, she admitted, “I used to help him take care of patients after surgeries, and when I was older, I assisted him.”

“What about your mother?” Olek kept his voice quiet, as if not wanting to scare her away.

“She’s…” Nadja paused, trying to think of a delicate way to paraphrase her mother but was not able to think of one. She didn’t approve of her mother’s lifestyle, but she did love the woman. “She’s an ornament. My father married her for her beauty, which he helps her maintain, and nothing else. She smiles prettily and throws parties and never raises her voice to him. Though, to tell the truth, no one ever raises their voice to my father.”

Nadja chuckled darkly and thought, Yeah, if they did, he’d surgically remove their voice box while they were still awake.

“Why are you running away from them? Did they hurt you?”

Nadja stiffened at the question. Instead of answering, she said, “Why don’t you go wash up? I’m going to put these in some water before they wilt.”

“Nadja.” Olek said lifting his hand to touch her cheek. His eyes glanced over the dirt marring his fingers and he thought better of it. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” she whispered. As she said it, she thought that perhaps it was the truth. But being able to tell him anything was not the same as actually telling him, because to admit about that part of her life, she’d have to tell him the awful truth of who she was. “I’ll be in my laboratory.”

I know.

Well, that admission was something at least.

Olek couldn’t have been more pleased by her show of concern when he walked in the door. It had not been his intention to scare her, which he clearly had. Normally, it was considered an insult to assume a man had been hurt in battle. Though something told him she did not show concern as a way to question his manhood, but rather as an expression of caring. It wasn’t an “I love you” but he’d gladly take it.

Olek watched as she walked away from him, holding her gift. As much as he liked knowing she didn’t wish him dead, as her eyes had shone out from her chalk-white skin and her lips had trembled, he’d been overcome with the strongest urge to comfort her with kisses. Instead, he’d given her the flowers.

Taking his time in the shower, he let the cool water beat against his skin. Merely thinking of his night with Nadja, made his flesh heat. With a slight smile on his face, he tried to come up with ways of wooing her once more into his embrace.

Finally forcing himself out of the water, he dried and wrapped a towel around his waist. Kicking his dirty clothes into a pile, he went to get dressed. Almost immediately, his Draig senses detected her in the bedroom. His pace quickened.

Stopping in the doorway, his expression fell in puzzlement. It wasn’t his wife who stood next to his bed, but a buxom blonde wearing his wife’s clothing as she posed in front of the mirror. Sniffing, he smelled Nadja but couldn’t see her.

Coldly, he demanded, “Who are you? Where is my wife?”

The woman spun from her trashy reflection in horror. Big, gaudy jewels graced her neck and hands. Her fat red lips moved as if to speak. Olek glared hotly at her, eyeing the busty woman in repulsion. Her large backside and overabundant chest stretched Nadja’s clothing. Platinum blonde locks were piled and fluffed high over her head and her blue eyes were surrounded by an ungodly amount of green makeup, contrasting the awful pink blush on her cheeks.

She lifted her hands to keep him from attacking. In a whiny voice, she said, “Olek, wait.”

“Who are you?” he demanded, storming forward.

The towel dropped from his waist and the ugly woman stared at his member as if she wanted to touch it. Instantly, the half erection he was sporting in thoughts of his wife drained from him. He frowned.

She gasped to see his member become flaccid.

“Olek, don’t, stop,” the intruder whined in her high-pitched resonance, reaching for the ring on her finger. “It’s me, Nadja.”

“You are not in the least like my wife.” He lunged to grab her throat. “Tell me what you have done with her.”

She gasped and lifted the large gemstone on her ring finger. As his fingers closed over her neck, she managed to turn it.

Olek recoiled as the woman’s features began to melt. The lips thinned, the makeup faded. Even the hair tamed and wound itself into a neat brown bun. Within seconds, Nadja was as he knew her.

“What trickery is this?” he demanded in horror. His eyes devoured her to make sure she was complete. His nostrils flared to take in her scent, proving to himself that she was really his wife.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she said, her voice low and pleasing once more. She took off the only jewel left on her finger and held it up to him. “It’s a morphing gem.”

Olek eyed the big diamond and frowned. Placing his hands on his naked hips, he asked, “Why would you have this?”

“I…” Nadja pulled away from him when his scowl didn’t lessened. “I didn’t hear you get out of the shower.”

“Why would you have this?” he repeated.

“It was a gift.”

“Who would give you such a repulsive thing?”

She was so beautiful, it didn’t make sense that someone would want her looking like a cheap, used whore.

“Well, you asked earlier why I left my father’s house,” she began.

“Your father wanted you to look like that?”

“No,” she said as if choosing her words very carefully. “My father wanted me to marry a man who wanted me to look like that. This horrible thing was my engagement ring.”

Olek frowned. She had been promised to another?

“Don’t take it like that. I never agreed to marry Hank,” Nadja said. Then, as if she wanted to get the truth out so it could be over with, she suddenly began to babble, nearly incoherent as she rushed to explain, “My father flew us to a district where arranged marriages were permitted and then he just made the announcement one night at a dinner party that he hosted for some business associates. I had no idea. One second I was ordering a servant to bring a guest some mead, and the next, everyone was clapping and congratulating me.”

Olek didn’t move, as he listened patiently, trying not to smile at the way her eyes widened and her lips moved. Relief filled him to have the torin beast out of his room. By all that was sacred, his wife was beautiful.

“Then, later, Hank found me and gave me this. I was horrified when he showed me what it did. The worst part was that in order for him to have the ring made, he must have stolen a piece of my genetic material—my hair or nail clipping—when he saw me last, which would have been when I was like fourteen.” Nadja shivered in repulsion, taking a deep breath. “That means he knew for a long time he was going to marry me, which means my father knew, which means that is why he kept such a tight rein on me. He was saving me for that fat, creepy slug of a pervert.”

Olek’s mouth twitched slightly at her confession.

“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded, her cheeks flaming. Playfully, she hit his arm. “You’re not supposed to laugh.”

“Never,” he said, but his laugh only rolled out harder at the word. “I was just thinking of Hank’s particular tastes.”

“Well, if you like it so much, why don’t you wear it!” Nadja threw the ring at him and he caught it in one hand.

Holding it between his fingers, he called, “Fire.” The fireplace roared to life and, without looking, he threw the offensive ring into the flames. “That is why you signed up to be a Galaxy Bride? To get out of marriage to a slug?”

“It’s why I ran away,” Nadja admitted. “I didn’t have a clue where I was going when I sneaked out of my engagement party. Galaxy Brides happened to be leaving from the same space port that night and I climbed aboard. They were short some passengers and were more than happy to take me.”

“Ah,” Olek said, his voice dipping seductively. He glanced down, suddenly aware of his naked state. His body stirred back to life and he moved to tower over her. “It was fate.”

Almost desperately, she pushed her hand against his chest to stop him. “That is why my father can never be told where I am, Olek. He would come after me.”

“But you are my wife,” he stated as if that solved every problem. “Your father cannot touch you now. This Hank will be forced to step aside.”

“He won’t see it that way,” she whispered, her eyes fearful. Olek didn’t like the trembling in her voice or the overwhelming wave of fear he felt coming from her. “He’ll try to punish me.”

“Surely he won’t mind being related to a rich prince.”

“Yes, he will,” she persisted. “When I left as I did, he would have been humiliated in front of his business associates. They are very powerful men. You don’t know what they are capable of.”

“Then it’s a good thing you have a very powerful husband with a very powerful family,” he whispered, dipping to capture her lips.

Nadja stiffened, pulling away to say, “Olek, I don’t want anyone hurt because of me.”

“You are my wife.” He growled possessively, briefly deepening his kiss before promising, “I’ll kill any who dare to try taking you from me.”

Nadja moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. Olek stiffened in surprise but didn’t protest as she forced him back to the bed. Her hands delved into his hair, as she returned his kiss with an overwhelming rush of passion that he hadn’t expect.

When his legs hit upon the soft mattress, she shoved him back onto it. She pulled her shirt off and tossed it aside before crawling to straddle his naked hips. Leaning over him topless, her breasts grazed his heated flesh. She kissed him deeply.

Olek’s hands found her slender hips. He pulled the drawstring tie at her waist to loosen the pants, and plunged his fingers beneath the material to squeeze her naked ass. With a moan, he worked her hips so that her thighs spread wider and she became seated fully against his arousal.

Nadja groaned in pleasure but tried to push away. Olek’s grip tightened. He didn’t want to let go. He thrust her forward to grind against him. He watched her breasts bob with the motion.

Nadja placed her hands against his chest and pushed harder. Reluctantly, he let his hands slide from her body. He pushed up on his elbows to watch her stand beside the bed. She slipped the pants down her legs. When she was naked, she let him look. Mutual desire radiated between them.

A small smile came over her mouth as she looked at his erection standing tall from his hips. He took deep breaths, feeling the dragon inside him stir. Though he wouldn’t shift completely, his senses became enhanced as he focused on her. His eyes tingled and he tried to keep them from filling with gold. She didn’t back away.

Olek stroked himself as he looked at her. Light filtered between the parting in her thighs, as if showcasing her sex. Nadja licked her lips as she watched his hand.

“Ride me,” he ordered.

Nadja obeyed the gruff command, eagerly crawling forward on the bed. His lifted his hand to rest above his head and he dropped from his elbow to lie beneath her. The firelight illuminated her, framing her with a golden halo of light. It glinted teasingly off her breasts as she moved astride his waist.

“Yes,” Olek said, his hips searching for her, thrusting up to join their aching bodies more rapidly.

He reached to guide her but Nadja grabbed his wrists and put them back over his head. She pinned him down. Olek groaned in rough approval. Her breasts were so close to his mouth that he leaned up, snapping playfully at one nipple and missing it completely.

Nadja came over him, brushing her sex along his arousal. Though the wet moisture coating his shaft said she wanted him, she didn’t give them the pleasure they both sought. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” Olek closed his eyes for the answer was obvious. He knew she had every intention of torturing him. His hips lifted higher, searching.

She ran her pussy along him, letting his tip part her slightly. Again he pushed up and was denied.

“You want me to ride you, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Nadja,” he panted, sweat beading his brow. “Do it. Ride me.”

“How do you want me to ride you?” Nadja persisted, clearly enjoying her power over him.

“Hard.” His breath drew in ragged pants. “Ride me hard.”

“Is this what you want?” She slid her legs down so she impaled herself a little more on him.

Olek tensed as his stomach jerked of its own accord.

“Deeper,” he begged. If he wanted, he could have thrown her hands from his wrists, but he didn’t dare to move. Her torturous movements were too sweet to resist. “Take me deeper.”

“Like this?” Nadja asked, stretching around him.

“Deeper, woman,” he pleaded and commanded at the same time. He panted, drawing in several ragged breaths. Already his hips flexed as he took what shallow thrusts he could.

“Like this?” Her words were not as confident as before.

Olek thrust his hips hard, bouncing her knees on the mattress. The movement forced her down on him. A loud gasp came from her parted lips as he fitted deeper.

Olek grinned, quite pleased with his own cunning maneuver. “Yes, just like that.”

She lost a bit of her composure. Her fingers gripped his wrists tighter. He let her control their pace and depth. A bond strained to form between them, strengthening. She made him feel whole and he knew he did the same for her. Their lives were completely joined. Seeing how excited it made her when he voiced his needs and passions, he said, “Now finish it, Nadja. Take me all in. Just a little lower, solarflower.” The budding peaks of her breasts called to his lips. “That’s it, just spread your legs and let me in.”

Nadja did as he commanded. Her thighs opened, dropping her completely onto his erection. They were rewarded with instant pleasure. Nadja didn’t move at first, as if still getting used to the hard feel of him

“Is it always this size?” she asked.

“Only for you.”

“I feel like I’m on fire.” Nadja lifted up.

“Yes,” he agreed. “And your body is moist for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re made to glide over me.”

Nadja dropped her legs to impale herself once more.

“Mmm,” Olek moaned in approval. Oh, but her slow thrusts were the most exquisite torture.

By small degrees, she quickened her pace until her body slammed down upon his at a maddening pace. Strands of her long hair worked loose to fall in small waves over her shoulders. She lifted her hands from Olek’s wrists to support her weight as she leaned back over him. Olek rubbed her breasts, tweaked her nipples and then slid his hands down to take control of her thrusts. He showed her how deep he could bring himself into her, how fast and hard.

“Olek.” Her head fell back and she tensed as she met her release.

The feel of her quivering body caused his cock to erupt, jetting his seed into her. His yell joined hers as they met with a brilliant climax.

Nadja stayed frozen above him, as if too overwhelmed by feeling to move. As her breath slowly became normal, she collapsed forward onto Olek’s chest. She buried her face into his neck. It took a moment, but Olek realized she was hiding from him.

“Mmm,” he said against her temple. “You can do that whenever you wish.”

“So you liked it?”

“No.” Turning over, he swung his leg onto her thighs and pinned her beneath him. His soft kiss molded against her lips. “I don’t think the word ‘like’ could possibly begin to explain it.”

Chapter 33

After discovering the depths of pleasure her body was capable of at Olek’s hands, Nadja wasn’t so quick to turn him away. His bed was a virtual playground she found herself longing never to leave. Sanity returned with the morning, as the curtains opened over the dome to let in light. She was mindful of her aching limbs, limbs Olek had gladly twisted and turned into multiple positions as he showed her extraordinary ways in which they could come together.

During the day, work kept her husband from her, taking him to the royal offices or to check on his brother. Truthfully, she didn’t know what he did. He would never tell her. She knew he didn’t want to worry her, but not knowing worried her even more.

She passed the time with the other princesses, excluding Olena, who spent every moment caring for Yusef. Nadja managed to sneak into the medical wing to check on the injured prince. Her injection seemed to be helping because the doctors were baffled by his quickened recovery.

She took her meals in the common hall along with the rest of the family. A high alert had been placed on the kitchen staff after Morrigan’s poisoning, so it was a little tenser than usual when they gathered together. The men didn’t join them too often, taking their meals wherever they practiced and strategized.

When Nadja mentioned how Pia was training her to fight, Morrigan had been only too happy to join in the lessons. So, when they weren’t roaming about the village with the queen or attending meals, they could be found engaged in self-defense training in Pia’s home. It made the days go by quicker and Nadja would wait breathlessly for the evening when Olek would come home.

Olek didn’t press her about her father again, and Nadja was glad for it. Let him think Hank was her only reason for running away. He didn’t need to know the details of who her father was. Hank had been the spurring effect that finally made her leave, but he was only one small reason in a sea of many.

Three days passed in this way. Nadja, who had overheard the queen talking to her husband in their Qurilixian tongue, had taught herself enough to make out the words danger, spy and family.

Knowing Olek wasn’t going to tell her anything, Nadja decided it was time to do a little investigation of her own. She felt only mildly guilty as she sneaked into her husband’s office to pry, armed with her translator.

Scanning a few pages left on his desk, she made out that they were import and export agreements with other planets. She sat on his chair and poked around, pulling out drawers, digging through paper files. There were old communications, but nothing of real interest. There was an electronic word translator, which looked as if it hadn’t been used for some time.

Sighing, she leaned back in his chair and rolled her neck from side to side, to stretch the tired muscles. She was about to give up, when she saw an edge of a notebook peeking out from a hidden space beneath the desktop. Smiling, thinking she’d hit the jackpot, she pulled it out.

She set it atop his messy pile and studied the book. It looked old, the leather binding a little frayed at the edges. She remembered him carrying it around with his other documents. Hesitating only slightly, she opened the first page.

Nadja gasped. Her husband was an artist. She would have never suspected. There were pictures of young boys playing in the colossal trees of the surrounding forest, drawings of soldiers at practice, vicious imaginary beasts that looked like man-dragons, the mountain fortress, the village, and villagers doing everyday things.

Then, as she continued to flip, she suddenly froze. From a pencil-smudged page, her face stared back at her. Shadows danced across her drawn features, until she realized it was the veil she had worn at the Breeding Festival. It was how he saw her the first night they’d met.

Her hand shaking, she turned to see what else he’d drawn. After the first portrait of her, she realized she was all that he had drawn since. She found a couple of incomplete sketches of her at the festival—sitting at the table, wrapped in fur inside the tent. She chuckled. He had drawn her in her laboratory, looking out in irritation, her hair frizzed unattractively around her head. There were drawings of her in the library reaching for a book, at the dining room table pouring over her notebooks, asleep on their bed.

Olek was really very skilled. She had seen a lot of professional artists in her travels and her husband’s talent could hold up to many of them.

Turning another page, she found herself in the gown she’d worn to her coronation. There was a small, unfinished drawing of her with a crown. Her lips were parted and she would have sworn the dreamy look on her face was a figment of his imagination. Touching her mouth, she was positive her lips never pursed like that in invitation.

She shook her head, moving on. Nadja’s hand jolted back from the next page. Now that was something she had never done. Her cheeks instantly flamed. Olek had her posed atop his desk, her legs spread indecently with her hand crawling up her inner thigh. She wore a most revealing piece of see-through material that didn’t hide a bit of naked flesh.

Swallowing over her constricted throat, she continued to turn the pages, mesmerized. He had her restrained in the water fountain, water pouring over her naked form. He drew her in the bath, steam making her hair cling to her face and nipples, as she leaned over what looked like the back of his head.

In the next she was kneeling, in thigh-high boots and nothing else, as she peeked over her shoulder at him in invitation. He even had her small black tattoo down to perfection. Nadja blushed, but she couldn’t look away. There was an array of differently erotic poses and naughty outfits. In some she touched herself. In some she touched parts of him. In one particularly interesting portrayal, she was looking up at him from his lower stomach and her tongue was licking the tip of a very large erection. It would appear the things Olek had done to her in bed were tame compared to what his imagination did to her.

“What are you doing?”

Nadja jumped up from the seat, automatically slamming the book shut as her cheeks flamed. Olek had caught her and he didn’t sound pleased. His eyes darted to the book, narrowing before turning back to her.

“I was,” Nadja began weakly. “I was looking to see if you had the jewelry I gave you in here and I…I found your book.”

It was technically true. She had given the jewelry a passing thought.

Olek didn’t say a word.

“I didn’t mean to pry.” Even as his pictures embarrassed her, they aroused her too. Licking her lips, she glanced down over his body. She took a hesitant step around the desk. “I didn’t know you were an artist. Is that how you see me?”

Olek’s jaw tightened. Nadja realized he waited to see her reaction, to discover if she would be angered by his fantasies.

“Is that how you want to see me?” Nadja asked, her tone growing husky. She touched the edge of her shirt and began to lift it up. His eyes lit with interest but he didn’t move.

Nadja slowly undressed. Standing naked before him, she turned her back to him and leaned over to mimic the pose, exposing her back side to him. She flipped her hair over her shoulder to study him.

Olek still hadn’t moved and he hadn’t looked away. His eyes roamed over her exposed flesh.

“Or do you want me on your desk?” She turned around to sit on his desk top. Scattering papers to the floor, she lifted her legs and let them fall open. Her fingers skimmed her thigh, trailing in little circles.

He stared at her and it looked as if he’d stopped breathing.

“Or like this?” Nadja licked her finger and touched her nipple, budding it for him.

Aware that she had a captivated audience, she slowly brought her legs back down to the floor. Sliding off the hard wood, she took a step toward him. With a shove, she pushed him against the door frame. Olek’s expression was stiff with control and he inhaled a deep breath.

She ran her hands over his tunic to his waistband, deftly freeing him of his pants. Licking her lips, she slowly bent down on her knees before him and looked up at him from the ground. Lifting his tunic up and over his interested arousal, she whispered, “Or was it like this?”

Nadja flicked her tongue to taste his hard length. He jerked and gave a small moan. His hands came forward to touch her face.

She leaned back, not letting him touch her. “You must show me what you want before I’ll give it to you.”

Olek tensed, not believing his ears. He’d never imagined she would find his sketches, let alone pose as he’d drawn her.

“Where do you want my kisses?” Nadja looked meaningfully at his arousal before turning her eyes to his.

He reached for her again, this time pulling her head forward. Nadja licked the end of his cock. Her lips parted and Olek took advantage. To her obvious surprise, he thrust himself between her lips and groaned in approval. He slipped his wet shaft out, only to run the tip over her lips as she kissed him. Jerking her forward, he plunged between her soft lips.

“Suck,” he urged her.

She did as he asked. He leaned against the door frame, holding her head as he worked his erection back and forth into her wet, hot mouth. Her teeth grazed his shaft and he nearly choked her trying to feel more. Closing his eyes, he lifted his face toward the ceiling in ecstasy.

Olek cried out and pulled her off before losing himself between her lips. He forced her to a standing position. “Lean over the desk.”

Nadja gasped at the rough command, but didn’t deny him. She turned and offered her backside. Olek pushed her down so she pressed flat against the wood. He grabbed her hips and targeted her moist heat with his cock.

Olek didn’t need to check if she was ready to receive him. He smelled the intoxicating perfume of her desire. His ass tensed as he forcefully thrust his hips. He entered her hard and fast, not stopping as the mindless pleasure took over.

Nadja thrashed beneath him. He built her climax, waiting for her to explode before joining her in release. Her body tensed, gripping him so tight he had no choice but to answer the call. He came hard, emptying into her.

As his heart began to slow and his eyes cleared, he pulled back from her. His face had partially shifted and he quickly hid the dragon from his face. Nadja weakly pushed up. That’s when he saw her translator on the corner of his desk.

Wearing only his tunic shirt, he reached over to pick up the translator. “What is this?”

Nadja turned to look at him and then paled. She reached for her shirt and quickly put it on backwards and inside out. “It’s not what you think.”

“I think you were trying to spy on me.”

“All right, so it is what you think,” Nadja admitted, pulling on her pants. “But it’s not for the reason you think.”

“Quit telling me what I think,” he yelled. “What were you doing in here? If you wanted something all you had to do was ask.”

“Oh, really,” she shot back, matching his tone. “I have asked you a thousand times in a thousand ways. What do you do all day, Olek? What’s going on with the Var? Why does the queen think there are spies in the palace? Why do you have to be so damned secretive all the time?”

“Nadja—”

“No!” she screamed, turning his tirade back on him. Then, blinking rapidly, she crossed out of the office to put distance between them, took a very deep breath, and affected the deadly calm that had frightened him in its coolness when they first met. “I don’t know what it is you’re hiding from me. But, mark my words Olek, I will find out.”

Nadja stormed away from him and he heard her lock the bedroom door.

Olek glanced down at his desk. Picking up his papers from the floor, he sighed. He shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. He knew Nadja wasn’t a spy for the Var. She didn’t even know the Var. He’d just seen the translator and couldn’t help the suspicion. Day and night, they searched their walls for whoever sold their palace blueprints, but with no luck.

He tugged on his pants. It looked like he’d be spending the night on his couch. A shiver worked its way over his body. Damned if his wife wasn’t an enjoyable vixen, even if she did frustrate the hell out of him.

Chapter 34

“None of the men will fight us,” Zoran said to his brothers. He glanced from Ualan to Olek and then back to where the cowering soldier had moved across the practice field.

Olek frowned. What were they supposed to do if the bravest of their whole race refused to let the princes take out their frustrations on them? He thought about having Zoran stick them in the swamp for a full year.

Snarling, Zoran growled in irritation. “They say our mood is too black. They are frightened we will kill them.”

Olek couldn’t say he blamed them. The soldiers’ frowns deepened at the sound of Zoran’s dark growl.

“Well, what in all the sacred temples are we supposed to do now?” Olek grumbled as he stormed away to the palace.

After Olek left early in the morning with no more than a grunt directed at her as he passed, Nadja took it upon herself to invite misery to share her company. She wasn’t disappointed as the princesses arrived. Each woman was properly somber.

Pia came first, glowering as if she carried on an argument in her head with Zoran who wasn’t there to answer. She was soon followed by Morrigan, who appeared sickly and pale and reeked of stale liquor. Though it was clear she had bathed, it did not mask the subtle smell from a night of binging. Olena arrived last. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun and her green eyes flashed with continual mischief, even when she wasn’t up to something. She looked none the worse for wear after her ordeal with the kidnappers, but she also wasn’t speaking of it.

Gazing around at the women, Nadja sighed.

“Heinrich is now training as a soldier. I released him from his duty to us,” Pia said, as Olena arched a brow in confusion. Nadja nodded, happy to hear the boy had been taken care of.

Stretching her arms over her head, Morrigan yawned. It was the most movement she had made in a while.

“So, have any of your husbands lied to you about who they are?” Olena asked in dejection.

“I thought mine was a prison guard.” Pia chuckled.

“I used to call mine a barbarian,” Morrigan admitted, tucking her hand beneath her head. “And a caveman.”

The women laughed.

“I call mine a dragon,” Nadja shyly said. Well, she did in her mind, anyway. Thinking of his latest bout of anger in the office, she did indeed think he had a dragon-like temper.

“They’re all dragons, if you ask me.” Morrigan winked at Nadja.

Nadja halfheartedly laughed as she rose to answer a summons at the door. She really wasn’t surprised to see the queen had tracked them down. Queen Mede’s obvious good mood didn’t match theirs, but she invited her in anyway.

The queen stepped into the intimate circle of women and nodded. “I heard you were all hiding out here.”

Nadja smiled in a weak effort to be polite.

“How’s Yusef?” Olena asked.

“Still awake,” the queen said. “And still with his brothers. They speak of fighting, and fighting always makes warriors happy, for it is something they know how to do.”

Olena lounged in her chair and acted like she didn’t care either way. Nadja wasn’t fooled.

Queen Mede’s gaze stopped on Morrigan and she arched a brow. Morrigan pretended not to notice though she visibly stiffened.

“Would anyone care for a drink?” Nadja inquired, hoping to break the tension.

“Oh, please, no,” Morrigan instantly declined, covering her mouth. The others laughed and the mood lightened some.

“No, dear, we’re fine,” the queen answered.

An uncomfortable silence ensued.

Nadja knew Queen Mede wished the princesses would talk freely around her. She tried to think of a way to ease the halted conversation, but was saved when the queen stated, “My sons are great men, but they are sometimes too stubborn for their own good.”

The princesses looked at her expectantly. Nadja was a little surprised the woman deigned to stay in their depressed ranks. Queen Mede took a seat amongst them, looking over each princess in turn.

“Enough of this wallowing. This planet is in desperate need of more women and I intend to see that each one of you explores the powers you possess.” The queen evidently not only intended to stay, but also intended to cure them of their woes.

Nadja couldn’t help but smile at the motherly tone.

“Your husbands are warriors,” the queen said. “I expect each of you has a clear idea now of what that means. But just because they made the rules, doesn’t mean you can’t use them. You have more power than you think.”

Nadja sat up straighter, listening intently.

“I’m going to tell you something my mother said to me before I married the king. I never forgot it. She said, ‘Medellyn, men like to be men. Let them think they are in charge of everything. It’s a happy delusion. If you act like they do, you will only have male tools at your disposal—and let’s face facts, men’s natural abilities do not rest in their common sense. They need women to help them. They don’t always admit it, especially these alpha dragon types, but in many ways a woman’s gifts are so much more powerful than brute strength.’”

Nadja thought of her mother and father. They were nothing like the queen described. Doc Aleksander was ruthless. Nothing about her parents’ lives had prepared her for marriage on Qurilixen. She wondered what her mother’s advice would have been, had she been there.

Do up your face, dear. You won’t want your husband to see you’ve been upset.

“I like your mother,” Olena said. Nadja eyed the woman in confusion before realizing Olena spoke to the queen and not in answer to her private thoughts.

“She was an amazing mother and I was such a hardheaded daughter,” the queen said. “I used to think she was so weak for never standing up to anyone, until the day she manipulated me into going to the wedding ceremony. That’s when I knew her real strength came in her gentle ways.”

Nadja was pretty sure her mother’s real strength came from daily injections of happy drugs.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Morrigan said, “but is there any chance you have more of those sugar cookie biscuit things lying around? I ate all of the ones you left with me.”

Queen Mede gave a small chuckle. “That was my mother’s recipe.”

Morrigan nestled her head against her arm. “Mmm, I like your mother, too.”

“Will we meet her?” Nadja had never met her own grandparents.

The queen shook her head in denial. “No. She has long passed.”

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said.

“So, daughters,” the queen paused, eyeing each one, “tell me your problems with my sons and I will give you the Qurilixian solution. I think it’s time that the royal women had the upper hand for once. I have waited too many years to see my sons married to let them ruin my plans now.”

Slowly, one by one, the princesses smiled.

“Pia, why don’t you go first?” The queen looked at the woman expectantly.

Nadja grinned, nestling into the chair as she listened to Pia’s problem and awaited her turn for council.

Chapter 35

“Olek, I am your wife, your other half. When you don’t speak to me, it makes me very upset and when I am upset, you will be upset.” Nadja crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her husband when he came through the door that night. Tired eyes, red from little sleep, met hers. Since he’d probably leave again in the morning, this might be her only chance to make him listen. “If that is the path you want for us, our lives will be stressful and unpleasant. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but you will have to trust me sometime. Life is too long to spend in misery.”

Nadja kept an emotionless mask over her face, repeating the words exactly like Queen Mede had told her to. She didn’t think it possible, but after speaking to the queen, Nadja felt three-hundred percent better. She had a plan of action, a clear way of handling her stubborn husband. The queen was a great source of information, and had been only too glad to inform her daughters about how to receive the upper hand in their marriages. The chat had made the women closer too—like family. Nadja never knew family could feel so…normal.

Olek was suspicious by nature, always trying to read into half-words and hidden agendas. He had to be that way with the sort of double-tongued people he dealt with. Considering the nature of his work, it was only natural he would try to read into everything Nadja said with suspicion. He was an expert at avoidance, never answering or giving more than was needed at the time.

According to the queen, the best way to handle Olek was directly and honestly. He had a lot on his mind and, at any given time, a concise, blunt attack was the best way to get him exactly where you needed him to be. Otherwise, he’d miss the subtler cues completely.

Olek arched a brow at her strange greeting, but stopped to listen.

Nadja smiled. It was working. She would have to remember to give her mother-by-marriage a big thank you gift the next time she saw her.

Let the negotiations begin, thought Nadja.

“I’m listening,” Olek answered when she tried to gather her thoughts. He eyed her intently as he moved to take a seat on one of the high-backed chairs. She sat across from him.

“In accordance with Draig law, because you are an ambassador your wife has the right to be an ambassador,” Nadja stated. “Now, I had every intention of finding a job. Ambassador duties might not be what I had in mind when I came here, but it is the most logical option. According to your mother, you have quite a heavy work load. I know it will take some training before I am ready to be a real help to you, but the sooner started, the sooner ready.”

Olek was quiet, still listening. Nadja knew he was reading her, judging her. She opened herself up and let him. There was no mischief or malice in her face as she spoke. He wouldn’t be able to detect any falsehoods or deceit. He nodded for her to go on.

“I don’t expect to take over your job, but to help you with it,” she continued. “I am educated. I can learn if you will but teach me. Having done some research, I find I could be of immediate use in local disputes. I have already earned the trust of the villagers…”

Olek frowned, clearly not following.

“Do try to keep up,” Nadja said. “See what I mean, you are way too overworked. You don’t even know what goes on in your own house every day. The villagers have been here quite often seeking medical attention. I am the new…oh, what is it they’ve been calling me? Gullveig?”

“It means witch,” Olek translated. “It is a term applied fondly to natural medics.”

“Good, we can agree that they like me,” she stated, not giving him a chance to deny her claim. “I can help out in local disputes, minor things for now. If I have questions about law I’ll come to you.”

Olek didn’t move.

“Also, I have a few ideas I would like to approach Zoran about for the men. I’ve finished the testing on the cream I made, and would like him to try it out on the soldiers during practice to see what they think. Feel free to run it by your doctors for tests.” Reaching beside her, she handed him a bound report. “Here is everything they will need about the chemical makeup as well as the active and inactive properties. I also took the liberty of drafting a small antidote in case of an allergic reaction. I already sent a sample to Lord Mirek in case they needed it for Riona.”

Olek took the report and set it aside without opening it. His gaze traveled to her face, thoughtful and probing.

“I have also talked to the queen about changing the decorating arrangements in the hall for traveling dignitaries,” Nadja continued, not losing her grace for a moment as she hopped from one topic to another. “Really, Olek, some flowers and silk banners wouldn’t hurt one bit and can be put up with minimal effort. First impressions are a key to any negotiation, and our hall just screams, um, like a barbaric planet full of warrior men who would rather fight than talk.”

Olek’s lip curled up along one side. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest and rested his foot over his knee.

“Now, my first act as the newest Draig ambassador is to call an official meeting with you,” she stated brazenly. “I think right now would work perfectly for both our schedules. Update me on the Var situation.”

His finger lifted to press against his chin in thought.

“All right.” Nadja remained professional and business like even though she wanted to hit him over the head and demand he talk to her. “I know spies are suspected within our walls. What have we done so far to locate them?”

“It is being handled,” Olek said. Nadja frowned slightly and he added, “There is nothing to report. Servants and soldiers are being questioned, but it is a long process and so far we have nothing.”

“Fine,” Nadja allowed. “And the attack on Morrigan and Yusef?”

“Morrigan took a drink from a goblet meant for my parents,” he said. “We don’t believe it was meant to for her, but rather to kill the king and queen. Yusef was attacked from behind. Whoever did it knew the back passages of the palace well enough to escape. It’s why we suspect a spy. That, and the royal offices were broken into. Only the palace blueprints were disturbed.”

Nadja nodded. “Anything else?”

“The war council convenes tomorrow,” he answered. “I’ll be gone all day presiding over it. We are giving King Attor the right of defense, though it’s likely he will deny everything and nothing will be achieved.”

“Fine, I will go with you.”

“I am afraid that’s not possible. You are not on the war council.”

“But I am an ambassador.”

“An ambassador in training,” Olek corrected.

Nadja grinned at his words. He accepted her idea. A small smile of happiness came over her as she looked at him. Oh, but he was so handsome and strong. He took her very breath away.

Olek liked how his wife took the initiative with her new course of action. He would gladly accept her help. On the rare occasions he traveled to the northern fortress to greet alien dignitaries, it would be nice to have her lovely presence by his side charming the offworlders. Not to mention how much more interesting those meetings would be if he could look forward to getting her into his bed afterward.

“You will have to stay in tomorrow. Attor’s men are here and everyone is ordered to stay within their homes. We won’t have bloodshed. We aren’t going to risk losing anyone.” Olek stood. “But, since you are an ambassador now, I have plenty to get you started.”

Olek strode to his office, a mischievous grin coming over his features. Reaching in his desk, he pulled out the hundred page communication from the Lithor Republic. He also took her translator from the desk. Coming back to where she sat on the couch, he handed both to her and said, “Look over this document and write a summary of what it says so you may report its conditions to the king.”

Nadja, seeming only slightly daunted by the thick document, didn’t complain. She set it aside on the couch for later. “Not a problem.”

“Glad to hear it.” Studying her, he reached for her hand and pulled her up. “Meeting adjourned? Or was there something else?”

Nadja shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he leaned to kiss her earlobe before giving it a playful bite. “Then may I schedule our second meeting?”

“When did you have in mind?” she asked, giggling as his breath tickled her skin.

“In about three seconds from now.”

“Where?” Nadja’s hands journeyed to his shoulders.

“Bathtub.” He bit her earlobe again only to soothe it with a kiss. “I want to negotiate some marital relations.”

Nadja laughed. He loved the sound of it.

Olek swept her up into his arms, carrying her across the living room to the bathroom. Depositing her directly into the water, clothes and all, he stepped inside with her. Kissing her deeply, he proceeded to negotiate—for most of the night.

Chapter 36

King Attor denied all charges with an arrogant smirk that Olek wanted to smack off his face. But, as long as the cat-shifter king was under the protection of the convened council, the prince couldn’t touch him. After seven very tedious hours, nothing was accomplished beyond a throbbing headache behind Olek’s right eye. However, since the last century of fighting had accomplished very little between the two kingdoms, it wasn’t really surprising that one day of talking had proven fruitless. Royal assassinations on both sides were nothing new, though none had occurred for over a hundred years.

Zoran was in charge of military matters, representing the Draig, with a Var warrior of equal rank opposite him. Olek presided over the whole affair, doing his best as ambassador to keep the peace, though all his brothers knew he would like nothing more than to spill King Attor’s blood for his insults to the royal Draig family. He was tired from his night of love play with Nadja. It seemed his wife wanted to try out every one of his fantasy sketches, not that he cared to complain. In fact, he had a few more ideas to draw for her.

After the meeting, it took another four and a half hours to ensure King Attor and his men were gone. A thorough search of the castle revealed nothing, and the high alert was taken off the village, so the villagers could again leave their homes.

Olek knew that soon they might be facing an escalation of war with the House of Var. Wars were terrible affairs. These battle flairs could last for fifty to a hundred years with much death and seldom any clear progress or victory. At the end, they would have an uneasy truce, while each side replenished their warriors and concentrated on rebuilding the population.

Olek came home late that night, exhausted to the bone. Nadja was just finishing up her translation of the Lithorian document. She looked as if she had been at it all day. But, yawning, she didn’t complain.

Glancing at Olek, she said, “The Lithorian are requesting the exportation of ore and wilddeor meat. This is an outline of how they wish for us to deliver it, down to the formal greeting they wish our representative to give their representative. I have outlined all the important facts for everyone.”

“Tedious lot, aren’t they?” He laughed. “You still want the job?”

“How often do they write?”

“This size of document? About once every five years to renegotiate. Otherwise, yearly.”

“Then yes, I want the job.” She smiled. “But I am putting in for a vacation in about five years and will need approval in advance.”

“We’ll see.” He leaned over and kissed her nose. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. We both look like we could use it.”

“What I didn’t understand from this is what we get in return for the trouble,” she said, shaking the frustrating documents at him.

“The best chocolate the galaxy has to offer,” Olek answered with a playful smirk, “and some other things.”

“Chocolate, you say?” Nadja grinned. She hadn’t forgotten her last experience with it, but thought that maybe it was time to give it another try—on a lesser scale. “As the new Lithorian ambassador, I am afraid I need to test this chocolate before I can endorse this proposal.”

“Coming right up.” Olek disappeared into the kitchen only to return with the red foil bag from the refrigerator with her name on it. Falling on the couch, he laid his head on her lap and handed up a piece.

Nadja took it between her lips and sighed, “You’re right. This is well worth their tediousness.”

Olek grinned. Sticking a second piece between his lips, he offered it up to her. Nadja smiled, leaning over to bite. As she did, he kissed her and they were again lost.

“Maybe we don’t need to go to sleep quite yet,” Olek murmured into her chocolate flavored mouth. Nadja just laughed, continuing to kiss him.

Chapter 37

Nadja nervously looked around at the Draig warriors as they cheered. The cheering was only to be outdone by their laughter, as they waited for the four princesses to throw their blades at a practice post. When Nadja agreed to the outing, she hadn’t really expected an audience. She was used to her training occurring at Pia’s home, where, if she made a mistake, the other women would give her encouragement. Here, the audience was trained soldiers.

She smoothed down the dark breeches and matching tunic needlessly. This was not the sort of public appearance she was accustomed to.

Princess Olena threw first and did decently as each knife made it into the center ring. The gathered men clapped and stomped their feet. Olena glanced at Yusef, trying to act like she didn’t seek his approval. The prince looked very well considering his ordeal, and Nadja assumed he only came out to the yard to let the men see he was alive. A white bandage slashed across his arm.

Nadja swallowed nervously. Pia nodded that it was her turn to go. Looking at Olek, he also motioned that she should try, despite the fact she’d already confessed to both of them that she had never thrown a blade.

“Just like I told you,” Pia whispered. “Breathe and aim.”

Nadja breathed and she aimed, but the first and second throws were too short, the third too long, the fourth hit the post with the hilt and the fifth hit it with the blade, but wasn’t forceful enough to stick. Embarrassed, she bit her lip and peeked at Olek to see if he was disappointed. He merely grinned, apparently not caring whether she could throw a weapon. To her surprise, the watching soldiers cheered her effort and shouted encouragements.

Morrigan threw next and managed to hit the post on her turn, though they weren’t centered. She curtsied as she received her cheers. Nadja thought the gesture was a way for the woman to hide her embarrassment.

“Maybe you ladies should let a man show you how it’s done,” a warrior offered from the crowd.

Morrigan made a face at the other princesses as she went to retrieve the silver blades for Pia. Nadja laughed and went to stand beside Olek.

“Ach,” Agro shouted. She’d met the warrior briefly and found him to be an odd sort, though the princes seemed to like him. “You’re hardly a man, Hume!”

“Have you given my cream to Zoran?” Nadja asked her husband, eyeing Pia’s formidable husband. He looked positively intimidating, with his crossed arms and rigid posture. Nadja definitely didn’t want to approach him personally with the idea.

“I am having the doctors look at it first,” Olek admitted. When she frowned, he said, “Not because I don’t trust you, but because a second opinion never hurt anyone. Besides, if you go around them, it could result in hurt feelings, and the last thing we need is an irritable medical staff on top of everything else.”

Nadja nodded, conceding to his logic. She turned to watch Pia, anxious to see how well the woman would do. She had no doubt Pia would outshine them all.

Pia took the knives, weighing them carefully in her hand as she tested them. Getting to the third one, she lifted it and studied the blade. Frowning, she went to her husband and handed it to him. She took the knife from his waist to replace it, testing his blade as she did the others. “You need to check the balance on that one. It will pull a fraction to the right.”

Zoran automatically threw the blade over her shoulder. It stuck just to the right of the center target. The men laughed.

Not turning to look, Pia said, “Told you.”

Zoran smiled at his wife and Nadja almost fainted. She was sure it was the first time she’d seen him show any emotion aside from displeasure. Olek chuckled and she felt him lean closer to her.

Facing the target, Pia took a concentrating breath and threw the first blade. Instantly, she dropped to the ground and threw the next two while rolling. Then, coming to kneel, she threw the last blades. The fourth blade struck Zoran’s knife knocking it from the post to take its place. On the fifth throw, she missed the post completely. Silence came over the gathered as they all turned to follow where the knife had landed. It was a foot before Hume.

“You missed,” Hume said, laughing to break the silence. The men went wild cheering. Pia took a graceful bow. The women jumped in excitement, enjoying the victory on behalf of the princesses.

“Did you see that?” Nadja asked her husband, smiling brightly. “Do you think you can teach me to do that sometime?”

Olek nodded. “Yes, but first thing’s first, and firstly you have to learn to speak my language.”

“I have a few words you can teach me.” She gave him a playful onceover.

Olek growled low in his throat.

Nadja turned to watch the show. Olena held the blades, and a very irate Prince Ualan had just joined them on the field. He had not been present earlier. Nadja couldn’t hear what he said to Morrigan, but soon the woman was being led away by her husband to the nearby forest path.

Nadja frowned at the way Ualan handled Morrigan. “I’m glad you didn’t get your brothers’ temperaments. I would have drowned you long before now.”

With a wink, he said, “You did try to drown me in the tub last night.”

Nadja blushed. He referred to when she’d wrapped her legs around his diving head, as he showed her the meaning of the phrase, “returning the favor”. Weakly, she hit him, unable to think of a comeback. Olek laughed harder.

“We’re waiting,” came a cry from the crowd.

Nadja watched as Pia turned to glare good-humoredly at Hume. “Don’t make me aim higher, Sir Hume.”

Pia meant his chest, but the rowdy warriors were only too ready to guess something much bawdier. Nadja covered her mouth. Pia looked confused. Olena threw back her head and laughed, not bothering to hide her amusement. Zoran looked momentarily stunned.

Olena threw her turn, hitting the post four of the five times. The last blade was close, but teetered off without sticking. The men cheered as she went to retrieve the blades. Olek looked down as Nadja waved away her turn. She had no desire to try it again in front of onlookers. Instead, her hand crept onto Olek’s arm as she watched Olena hand the knives to Pia.

“We need a blindfold,” Zoran called. Incredibly, the call was almost immediately answered as one was passed over the front of the crowd to Zoran. The commander prince crossed over to Pia and tied it around her head. Zoran then smacked his wife hard on her backside. The men began to laugh. Quietly he backed up.

“I bet she makes it,” Nadja whispered.

Olek patted her hand and she looked at him.

“Make your throw!” Zoran yelled.

Pia lifted her arm and threw in quick succession. The first three blades landed in the post. Suddenly, a loud cheering came up over the crowd. Zoran grinned as he motioned the men to make noise. Nadja watched the large warrior prince in awe. It was the second smile she’d seen from him that day.

Pia lifted the blade, but her gesture wasn’t as confident as before. She threw. The fourth hit, though it wasn’t as deep as the others.

“Oooo,” the men shouted in unison.

“Zoran!” came a sudden panicked shout. “Olek! Yusef!”

Nadja jumped in alarm, glancing around to see who it was. Zoran ran toward the tree line, drawing the sword from his waist. Yusef nodded to one of the men, who instantly tossed a blade which he caught with his good hand. Olek stiffened under her hand, before pulling away. He was right behind his brothers, drawing his own sword.

Nadja stepped forward to follow. Pia tore the blindfold from her head. Gripping her last knife, she chased after her husband. The other warriors began to murmur, but following Agro’s command, they didn’t move. Nadja glanced at Olena and they were both soon running behind the others.

Olek found Ualan being pursued over the forest path by twelve Var warriors from the trees. The cat-shifters had changed from men into vicious, snarling wild cat-men. Ualan dragged Morrigan with one arm. The princess was unconscious, a dart sticking out from her throat. Her feet trailed in the dirt.

Ualan had been forced to shift into his dragon form so that he could deflect the claws coming at him. He turned his body to protect his wife, as he used his free arm to try and fight off blows from his attackers. His brothers joined him, shifting into their dragon form as they fought against the Var. The one-armed Yusef hacked forward with his sword, giving Ualan time to get Morrigan to safety.

Ualan placed Morrigan behind them on the ground as gently as he could before facing the attackers once more. Pia came from behind them, throwing her blade into one of the creature’s throats. When Zoran swung his arm, she ducked beneath him and grabbed the knife from his belt. Olek dove into the trees to stop one from escaping. He growled, jerking the man by his foot. The cat-shifter crashed forward into a tree with Olek still holding on to him.

Nadja’s feet ground to a halt. She watched Olek shift to do battle. His skin hardened, turning a dark brown. His hair remained the same, but a line grew out from his forehead, pushing forward to create a hard ridge of impermeable tissue over his nose and brow. His eye flashed with golden danger. Talons grew from his nail beds and deadly fangs extended from his mouth.

Her lips trembled violently as she tried to scream, but was unable to make sound. For a moment, she closed her eyes and paused a few seconds, thinking the suns were surely playing tricks on her vision. When she again looked, she stiffened in fear. It was very real. Her husband was a dragon. Those drawings he had done were not of mythical creatures.

To make matters worse, the dragon brothers fought human tiger-beasts. The low, beastie sounds they made caused her blood to run cold.

“Nadja,” Olena yelled.

Nadja numbly turned at the sound. Olena kneeled by the unconscious Morrigan. “Help me!”

Seeing the injured woman, she shook herself free of her fear and darted forward to the fallen princess. She shivered to see the dart sticking from Morrigan’s throat. Fearfully, she let her gaze roam around the nearby tree.

“Help me,” Olena demanded, trying to drag Morrigan away from the fray.

Nadja helped her drag Morrigan down the path to relative safety. The sound of battle rang out behind them. When they were closer to the practice field, Nadja stopped walking and dropped to her knees.

“Should we pull it out?” Olena asked.

“No,” Nadja answered. Again she looked at the trees, searching for movement. She saw nothing. “Don’t touch it.”

Leaning over, she examined the wound. The dart was still embedded in Morrigan’s neck and the woman wasn’t moving. The sound of footsteps came toward them. She jolted to see Ualan in dragon-shift coming toward her, and at her look, the man immediately changed back to his human form. Peering down the path, she warily eyed Olek as he approached. He looked like a man, but she had seen the change in him as she had the others. Her mouth trembled before she turned away from him.

Ualan began to reach forward.

“Don’t,” Nadja commanded, her voice raw with fear. She leaned away from Ualan’s hand. Ualan drew back in surprise, but Nadja only nodded at his arm where red blisters were forming on his skin. “She is poison to you.”

Ualan tensed, but he held back and did as she commanded him.

“You can’t move her yet.” Nadja tried to remain calm. She wanted nothing more than to run away, but she couldn’t. She knew the alien dart all too well. She was the only one here who understood its poison.

“But, the poison…” Ualan tried, desperate to help his wife.

“Quiet,” Nadja ordered. Zoran and Pia approached from the battle. They hung back in silence. Nadja refused to look any of them in the eye. Her hands shook as she pretended to concentrate. Inside her heart pumped furiously. Her stomach knotted in fear until she wasn’t sure if she was going to puke or pass out. “Let me think. I need to concentrate.”

Ualan looked at her husband. Olek shrugged.

“Give me your knife,” Nadja held her hand out to Pia. The woman instantly obeyed. Taking a deep breath, Nadja cut into Morrigan’s throat where the dart embedded into the skin. Instantly, a dark green poison oozed from the wound. Working quietly, she dug out the star tipped points of the dart.

Nadja dropped the blade on the ground and continued to bleed the poison out. When she had finished, she quietly told Ualan, “Try touching her.”

Ualan did and was left unharmed.

“It’s as I thought.” Nadja breathed. The knowledge brought her little pleasure as she again looked frantically into the trees. It was as if she could feel eyes on her but couldn’t find them. “I’ve seen this kind of poison before. Usually jealous old lovers do it for revenge. If you had torn the dart out of the skin, it would have released a poison into the blood stream. She would have lived, but you would never have been able to touch her again. It’s ironic really. That way, it is the current lover who poisons the woman, sealing their fate.”

“You should get her to a doctor,” Nadja said, her tone lowering to a mere whisper. Standing, she edged away from the Draig shifters to go down the path where they’d come from. “I would say that whoever poisoned her didn’t want you to be with her.”

Feeling she had done all she could, she turned and ran away from them, desperate to get away from the hidden eyes that looked out at her from the forest.

Chapter 38

Olek hadn’t stopped to consider his wife as he shifted to fight at his brother’s side. But, as soon as the Var were retreating in the forest, the full consequence of that act hit him. He’d run to find her, a little surprised to find her tending to Morrigan and not hiding up in a tree somewhere. Her pale face gave away her fear of them, but hadn’t stopped her from helping Morrigan.

He’d detected her quivering hand and saw her shoulders shake ever so slightly. With the connection that had been building between them, he felt the full blown blast of her terror. He wasn’t sure what scared her more—the fact that she was surrounded by dragons, or that they’d just been attacked by cats.

“Nadja, stop!” Olek ordered softly, not wanting to scream at her in front of his family. When she only ran faster at the words, he darted forward, using the unfair advantage of his Draig speed to catch up to her.

Nadja inhaled noisily as he touched her. Her shoulder jerked violently beneath his hand. Olek was sorry for it, but didn’t let her go.

“Nadja.” Trying to caress her through the dark cotton of her shirt, he whispered, “Please. Don’t do this. Can’t —?”

“Let go of me Olek,” she whispered fearfully, not turning around to look at him. She desperately tried to tug from his grasp. Her head tilted toward the trees to see if they were being followed. Olek wasn’t worried about more Var. He had listened to them run away like the cowards they were.

She jerked away and Olek let her go. His eyes narrowed. He detected her deep fear and was sorry for it. He wanted to hold her, to comfort her. But, believing he was the cause of her fear, he held back and waited for her to speak.

Doc Aleksander had come to Qurilixen. Nadja knew this fact just as sure as she knew her father was in the forest watching her, just as she knew she couldn’t risk being seen with a shifter touching her.

She might not be able to see her father, but then she wouldn’t, would she? No, he’d hide until he was ready to reveal whatever plan he’d concocted. He was going to play with her first, punish her with her own fear. She glanced around the colossal forest anyway, seeing the red earthen path before her surrounded by yellow ferns that looked almost green in the shadows.

The dart that had hit Morrigan was very alien to this planet and only traded on the darkest of black markets. She had transported them in her hair through customs before. Usually they had procured the poison for spurned kings who sought to punish the local village beauty for not returning their attentions. It was a valuable commodity. For the Var soldiers to have it, meant someone very high up in the Medical Mafia had sold it to him. Her father was about as high up as any could get.

If Olek had only been a human prince, Nadja could have clung to the barest of hope that her father would understand and forgive. It wasn’t likely, but there was always the chance.

However, Olek wasn’t human. He was a shifter and that made all the difference in the world. Doc Aleksander was a human purist. He put up with alien races out of necessity, but he didn’t think they were good enough to lick the bottom of a human’s boots.

Oh, if he discovered Nadja had fallen in love and actually slept with a shifter, it would mean a horrible death for the entire royal family. Her heart squeezed with an unbearable pain she couldn’t let Olek detect. Her father might only disfigure her, but he would skin alive each and every person she’d come in contact with. And, if they were lucky, the other human princesses would only be sold as slaves to the lowest form of humanoids he could find.

But no fate would be worse than Olek’s. Looking at his handsome face, she knew it didn’t matter how strong he was or how brave. He couldn’t fight Doc Aleksander or his genetically altered goons. When Olek was caught, as he surely would be if his connection to her was found out, his death would be the most slow and painful. And she would be forced to watch the whole thing.

Nerves jumped all over her body. She’d seen what her father did to people who merely looked at him the wrong way. He’d surgically remove their eyes without putting them under general anesthesia. If they fainted, he would revive them so they didn’t miss an agonizing second of his torture.

Olek took a desperate step forward, his arm reaching to pull her back to him by force if necessary. Nadja’s eyes darted away, looking again at the trees. He glanced, trying to see what she looked at.

“Stay back, Olek,” she warned. Nadja had no doubt her father knew she’d recognize the dart, just as she knew he’d sent it to her as a calling card. If the man was close, then he already knew these princes were shifters. She could only pray she might convince him that she didn’t know until today—which was true—and that she hadn’t had anything to do with any one of them.

She would tell him she got scared, hitched a ride, and ended up here after she realized her foolishness. The princes were nice enough to put her in a room of her own until she could contact her father to come and get her. It had to work. Seeing Olek’s tortured face, she was sorry for it. His feelings for her were the only kink in her plan. She had to sever them immediately.

“Just stay back. Don’t come near me,” she warned in a low voice.

“Nadja, please.” He reached for her again. His eyes implored her to come to him and she wanted nothing more than to go. “Have I ever hurt you?”

Nadja held back. If she loved him, then she would be forced to hurt him to save him. Letting a distasteful snarl hit her lips for the sake of her father’s watching eyes, she asked, “What are you?”

“I am Draig. Nadja—”

“I don’t even know you,” she answered before he could give her away. She let her voice rise, praying they were overheard.

“You know me, Nadja,” Olek pleaded, his tone soft, tortured, caring. “I’m the same man. Here, take my hand. See. I won’t hurt you, solarflower.”

“Just stay back.” She refused his offered hand and glanced around for the sake of her spying father. “I only asked two things, honesty and loyalty. And so far you haven’t been very honest. You never told me you were a shifter and—”

“You never asked,” Olek defended.

“Well I’m asking now. Is there anything else I should know, your highness? Any other surprises, like, do you have five other wives and twenty kids hidden somewhere?”

Olek flinched.

“I told you never to lie to me, Olek,” Nadja continued, quietly. “You lied about being a prince—”

“I said I worked,” he broke in. “Why are you bringing this up now? I thought we were past this.”

“You knew what I was asking.” Every fiber in her being hated what she was doing to him. “Why couldn’t you have just been a small time farmer?”

He didn’t move.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter.” She realized now that a small time farmer wouldn’t have been able to protect her any more than a prince. Doc Aleksander wanted his daughter back and he would get her.

“I never lied.”

“And yet, you never really told me the truth,” she replied. “Go check on Morrigan, Olek. I need to be alone for a while.”

There. It’s done, Nadja thought, her heart breaking into a thousand different pieces. Her body was cold and she suddenly wished the Var had poisoned her instead. She looked out over the distance, hoping her father enjoyed her little performance.

Olek nodded. He didn’t try to touch her again, but moved past her, down the red trail leading toward the palace. Nadja moved behind him, keeping her distance to make sure she didn’t encounter him again.

Once she came to the front gate, she ignored the guard on duty, who merely glanced up at her entrance. She took quick steps through the passageways, running when no one could see or hear her. She knew everyone would be with Morrigan in the medical ward. She wanted to check on the woman, but couldn’t risk being stopped.

Getting home, she hurried inside. Looking around, her heart ached for the life she would never lead here, for the children she would never have, for the ambassadorship she would have worked at with her husband, for all the smiles and laughter she would never experience married to a man like Hank.

She had been a fool to think she’d ever escape marrying her father’s choice. She’d been a fool to think she deserved more. After the years of her life she’d spent standing aside, saying and doing nothing to stop her father’s cruelty, she didn’t deserve Olek. She’d known what her father was doing to those poor victims, victims he forced her to help recuperate. Their endless faces flashed across her mind.

Now there was only one thing left to do. She had to go and find her father before he came to claim her.

Olek felt as if his soul had been ripped from him. Hopelessness and despair surrounded him. The link with his wife was severed and he was left feeling hollow and dead inside. He could no longer detect her fear. She’d cut herself from him, refusing to let him feel her.

Unable to do anything else, he did as his wife asked and went to check on Morrigan. He told himself if he just gave her enough time, she would come around and accept his shifting. He had won her once, he would do so again. He had to. There was no other option to his troubled mind. He needed her like he needed air and food, even more so. She was his heart, his soul.

Morrigan was checked over by the doctors and released to go home with Ualan.

Apparently, when Olek had been busy with Nadja, Princess Pia had discovered the identity of the Var spy using a video feed Morrigan had taken of the coronation. It seemed Morrigan was an intergalactic reporter and had been doing a story on Ualan and his brothers’ royal marriages. Thinking of his marriage, he scowled—some story that would be.

It had also been determined with this last attack on Morrigan, that King Attor planned on striking the princes’ most vulnerable place—their marriages. By killing the princesses, King Attor would ensure they never produced heirs, and their line would end.

If Olek lost Nadja, there would never be another for him. It was the way of the crystal. When she broke it, she joined them forever. The Draig mated for life. If they lost their mate, they lived the rest of their days alone, never taking another to their bed or into their hearts.

As Ualan took his wife home, Olek went to join Zoran and Yusef in the palace kitchens to hunt for the spy. They found him hiding behind one of the big brick ovens, ducking from his work. He had somehow managed to mask his Var smell beneath a too potent scent of Draig.

The spy must have known that he’d been discovered, because he tried to run. It was no use. Yusef was standing in the doorway and with a swing of his good arm he punched the man square in the jaw, sprawling him out on the floor.

Olek missed most of the fight, but did offer to escort the Var soldier to the lower prisons. A Draig guard was sent to retrieve Agro for the interrogation. It was believed that if any of the princes questioned him, they would most likely kill the insolent man for the harm he intended to do their wives. It was better to have someone with a cooler temper. Olek had no doubt that Agro would discover much from the man. When Agro chose to shift, he could be terrifying.

Nadja tried to pack, but she couldn’t risk carrying too much and being discovered. She debated whether or not she should leave Olek a note trying to explain, but in the end decided against it. It wouldn’t do to give him hope. If he tried to come after her, then everything she had just put them through would’ve been for nothing, and she would have to watch him die.

In the end she took nothing, leaving the house exactly as it was. It was getting late. Dusk had formed some time ago. There was no time for goodbyes. This was it.

Nadja took a deep and steadying breath. It did no good. She instinctively knew where her father would be waiting for her. He would be at the scene of Morrigan’s attack, or close to it. Walking down the earthen red trail, she clutched her fingers before her. The dusk made the forest darker than usual, but if she squinted, she could see where she was going fairly well. The deeper sections of the forest were a mystery.

Tears entered her eyes and only the thought of saving Olek kept her moving. Her body trembled with an uncontrollable fear. Her steps faltered as she neared the place where Morrigan fell.

Nadja stopped, and looked around the colossal forest. In the shadowy twilight, she saw the red earth before her, surrounded by the yellow ferns. She waited, not stirring from the path until she detected movement at her side. It was the flick of a match and the lighting of an old fashioned cigar. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice only came out in a squeak.

The orange glow of her father’s cigar brightened, illuminating his sinister face. He lounged against a tree as if he had been watching and waiting for some time. Doc Aleksander stepped out from the sanctuary of the forest, brushing off the rough bark, as if he were in the finest of gentleman’s clubs. His movements were graceful and refined. He wore a dark suit, expensive and handsomely cut. His black hair was slicked back, matching the black of his thick mustache that twitched when he spoke, or when took a long draw as he was doing now. He smiled as the smoke curled out of his lips.

Instantly, she felt like a child, about to be punished for eating a scrap of her mother’s chocolate, or being reprimanded because some handsome foreign dignitary held her eye a second too long.

“How did you find me?” she whispered, looking piously at the ground.

The comment caused a chuckle to rumble along his deep voice. When he waved his cigar around, it was with an air of elegance. “Nadja, darling, come give your father a hug.”

Nadja couldn’t disobey. Taking small steps, she didn’t look him in the eyes. Her arms spread and she put them around his upper body. He lifted his cigar up as she pressed her cheek to his chest in a brief embrace. As she pulled away, his cigar tip hit her arm. She jolted back.

“Oh, sorry dear,” he said, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “How clumsy of me.”

Nadja didn’t say anything, didn’t reach to touch the little burn. She pressed her lips together to keep from screaming for Olek. This was her responsibility. No matter how bad she wished for her husband to save her, she wouldn’t call him to his death.

Aleksander’s hands reached to touch her shoulders, rubbing her arms gently. “Tsk, tsk, Nadja Mandylen Aleksander. How you gave us a scare. Your mother has been frantic with worry over you.”

Nadja lowered her head, stiffening as she awaited another burn. It never came. Meekly, she said, “I’m sorry, father. How did you find me?”

“You didn’t honestly think an act of privacy would keep me from finding you, did you?” he mused. “You would be surprised what laws can be broken with enough money and persuasion.”

Nadja had seen this man’s form of persuasion.

“You…” she began. Pausing, she took a deep breath and tried to look him in his dark eyes. “You didn’t hurt anyone, did you? They didn’t know who I was when they let me aboard.”

“No, darling,” he whispered as if he was the most caring man in the world. “But you’ve hurt me. You embarrassed me and your mother. She was very upset. She hasn’t left her room aboard the medic ship since your engagement party. You looked me in the eye and said you were going to marry Hank. You lied to me.”

“No,” she whimpered. Tears sprung to her eyes when she looked up at him. “I didn’t lie.”

“Oh,” he soothed. “Don’t cry, Nadja.”

“I don’t want to marry, Hank,” she whispered. “He scares me. Please don’t make me marry him. Let me stay with you and mother. Hank wanted to-to—”

“Boys,” Doc announced coldly, not giving her a response. His large, genetically altered henchmen came from the forest as if they grew from trees. “Take my daughter here to our camp, and have her arm looked at. She burned herself on my cigar.”

“Miss Aleksander.” One of the men bowed. Nadja recognized him, but didn’t know his name. He was one of the many mindless clones her father grew in his lab. She could see by the look on his face that if she didn’t follow willingly, he would take her by force.

Nadja nodded at him to walk. And, as he led her into the forest, she knew her fate was sealed.

Olek frowned at the servant who stood before him and then at the note he tried to pass him. The man had said it was from Princess Olena. Shaking his head, he said, “That letter is not for me. You seek my brother, Prince Yusef.”

“No, Draea Anwealda,” the man assured. “Princess Olena bid me to find only you. She was very specific. She told me to give it to you tonight.”

“Very well,” he answered, “I’ll clear up this mistake myself.”

Olek took the missive and nodded the man away. Why would that fiery tree witch be sending letters to him? The very impropriety of it made him sick. As far as he could tell, she didn’t even like him. He clutched the letter in his fist, not wishing to read it when eyes could be on him. He could only imagine the rumors that would be started by this little stunt of hers. He hoped they didn’t get back to Nadja before he had a chance to explain.

Thinking of his wife, he finally managed to get the courage to go home and face her. It was late and, if he was lucky, she would be fast asleep.

“Nadja,” Olek called softly as he stepped into his home. He tore open Olena’s missive, not eager to read what was inside. He looked in the bedroom. Nadja wasn’t there. He searched the whole house, his gut aching when he didn’t find her. Taking a deep breath, he wearily sank down into a chair. Where could she be? Would she even welcome him looking for her?

Chapter 39

Nadja was led to a campsite buried deep in the forest. It felt like she walked forever. No one spoke as they moved. Nadja felt her father’s eyes behind her. She wished he’d have just killed her and gotten it over with. His silence could only bode ill.

“Have a seat, my dear,” Aleksander said, motioning to a chair set up in the middle of the ground.

Nadja eyed it wearily. “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Sit,” her father growled, his dark mustache twisting into a snarl.

Nadja nodded, not daring to naysay him again. She moved slowly to the chair, her body trembling in fright as she sat down. She knew this chair, saw the manacles that would bind a person’s wrists to the arms and their ankles to the thick oak legs.

Nadja crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her ankles together, careful to stay away from the manacle’s bite.

“Are you hungry?” Doc asked, eyeing her carefully. His eyes narrowed in disgust as he took in her waistline. “I see you have been eating more.”

It was true she hadn’t watched her diet since leaving the medic ship, but she had been working out too.

“What else has changed with you, daughter?” he asked, not bothering to send his men away so they could speak in private. The clones were loyal and probably didn’t hear him anyway.

“N-no-thing,” she lied, her voice quivering.

“Sit back,” he urged. “Relax. You look so tense.”

Nadja looked at the chair arms as he meaningfully glanced at them. She shook her head furiously, moving to stand. Arms came around her from the back like vices, pulling her down hard. She screamed. Before long the goons had her strapped to the chair, helpless. Nadja began to cry. Her tears had no effect on the emotionless henchmen.

“Father, please,” she begged, meeting his eyes with hers. “Don’t do this.”

“You did this,” he answered with false sympathy, as if he was the victim and she forced his hand.

“What will you do?”

Doc lifted his hand and motioned his fingers. One of his men came forward holding his medic bag. Nadja tensed, gasping frantically for air, trying not to pass out as fear overwhelmed her.

“Father, no,” she cried out. Her mind called for Olek in terror.

“There, there Nadja.” Doc’s brow rose as he reached into his bag. “If you’re telling me the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

Nadja gulped. She was so dead.

Olek jolted to awareness, his skin prickling. He waited, listening. Nothing. All was quiet. Thinking he imagined the sound of his name, he sat forward to run his fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, Olena’s missive caught his eye. He had dropped it on the floor in his preoccupation with Nadja. With a frown, he picked it up and finished tearing it open. His eyes narrowed as he read.

Your wife’s father is coming for her. Ask her what that means. I go to put him off. You must keep her safe. He is an evil man.

Olek’s hand trembled. The note made no sense. Frowning, worry overcame him. Clutching the missive, he was going to find Olena and force her to tell him what she meant by the cryptic message. Then, he was going to find his wife.

“Father?” Nadja whispered as he came near her. Pricking her arm, he took a reading of her blood. She watched his face in horror as he paled.

Suddenly, he waved his hand at the group of men. “Go. Make sure she wasn’t followed.”

They nodded and scurried off.

“Father?” she whispered.

He ignored her, going back to his medic bag. When he withdrew his hand he held a laser scalpel. Nadja tensed.

“Who is he, daughter?” he asked quietly, eyeing the instrument as if he didn’t trust himself to turn to her.

“Wha-at do you mean?” she asked, trembling.

“You know what I mean. Tell me.”

“There is no one, father, I swear,” she put forth.

“Your blood screen says otherwise.” Shooting forward, his eyes flashed unnaturally in the blue glow of the camp lights. “Who have you whored for?”

“No one,” she said, trying to block Olek from her mind. She couldn’t let him find the love she had for him.

Taking the scalpel, he lightly pressed the end of it to her cheek. With one press of the button, it would light up and slice her eye in two.

“My patience grows thin.” Drawing the blade over her cheek to her neck, he pressed the dull end into her racing pulse. “Give me his name.”

Nadja pressed her lips together. Her father pulled the scalpel back and pressed the button. Taking his hand to her wrist, he clamped his fingers over her and moved the lighted blade to hover over her arm.

“Last chance,” he growled. “I will have a name.”

Nadja tensed, closing her eyes as she braced herself for the cut. It came like a strike of lightening, snaking along her forearm in a deep gash. She whimpered in agony, knowing it was no use to cry out. No one would hear her. She didn’t want to alert the Draig guards. If they came, Olek would follow.

Her breath ragged, she opened her eyes to look at him.

“I can do this all night,” he whispered.

Nadja trembled. She already knew as much.

“But, unfortunately, I don’t have all night. You see, daughter, I have made some friends of my own on this accursed planet. It seems your precious Draig aren’t liked by my friends. And if I help them, they’ll help me. So tell me, which prince is yours?”

Nadja shook her head, trails of tears streaming silently down her face.

“You are such a disappointment.” He sniffed in disgust. “Well, if hurting you won’t get us anywhere, what if I hurt one of your little friends?”

Nadja stiffened. Blood ran from the wound on her arm, but her father had been very precise in his cut and hadn’t hit an artery. Doc Aleksander went to one of the tents, and drew back the flap.

“Bring out the pirate,” he ordered.

Nadja tensed as Olena was carted out. She lay flat on a long operating table, her arms strapped to her sides.

“She had nothing to do with this,” Nadja rushed.

Doc Aleksander shrugged, as if unconcerned.

“Olena,” he called down to the red haired woman. He tapped her face lightly. “Time to wake up.”

Olena blinked, automatically stiffening against her bonds. Nadja saw her mouth was gagged. Her head thrashed back and forth on her shoulders.

“What shall I do to her, Nadja?” her father asked. He drew his scalpel along Olena’s face. Olena stopped moving. Her wide eyes followed the laser blade. “Carve out her eyes? Her nose? Take off her lips?”

“Don’t,” Nadja whispered, weakly.

“Then tell me what I want to know,” he ordered. “Who is the father of that bastard you carry?”

Nadja tensed, sure she had misunderstood him until she saw his eye twitch. “I’ll never tell you.”

Nadja shivered as her father reached into his bag once more. Leaving Olena alone, he turned back to her.

“That bastard inside you will be dissolved.” Doc Aleksander lightly stroked her face.

To her surprise, the manacles were freed from her wrists and she was allowed to move. Her fingers shook as her father lifted her hand into his. He pulled her up. His fingers brushed over her face. Nadja tensed, closing her eyes as she swayed on her feet.

“The time for being a child is over, Nadja,” he said. “It’s time for you to take your place amongst your peers.”

Nadja felt cold, hard metal being placed into her fingers. She jolted in surprise to see a large laser scalpel. It was much larger than the fine, precision tool, her father had used on her arm. Her hand trembled and she looked at him in confusion.

“Do you love me, Nadja?” he asked her.

“Yes,” Nadja answered. She cursed herself. It wasn’t all a lie. She did love him. He was her father. But she didn’t like him, couldn’t respect him.

“Then dissect her,” he ordered, pointing at Olena.

“What…?” Nadja breathed, her wide eyes turning wild as she looked at Olena strapped to the table.

“She is a common thief, a pirate.” Doc Aleksander gave his daughter a shove toward the bound woman. “She broke her word to me.”

“No,” Nadja gasped. The scalpel fell from her fingers to the ground. She turned to run. Her father caught her easily.

“Cut out her eyes,” he ordered. “Or I’ll burn your lying ones from your head.”

To prove his point he motioned for a hot poker to be brought from the fire. Nadja watched the angry red metal smoke and curl with heat.

“Hold her down,” Doc ordered. His voice was calm, unattached, and weary.

“No!” Nadja screamed, flailing. Hands were all over her, gripping her shoulders and her arms, lifting her legs into the air when she kicked. Her father took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The hot poker waved dangerously at the action.

“It’s time you learned, Nadja,” he told her. “You don’t lie to your father.”

Nadja kicked, trying to get free. The poker loomed closer to her face.

“Will you do as you’re told?” he asked, his voice mocking her with its composed, almost soothing rendering.

Nadja nodded. How could she not?

“Let her go,” Doc ordered. He handed the poker back to one of the men who tossed it back into the fire. Then, reaching to the ground, he retrieved the scalpel for his daughter. Nadja took it, her fingers shaking horribly as she pressed the button. A long laser shot out, nearly six inches long and sharper than the most deadly of blades.

Nadja sniffed, unable to breathe. Doc led her forward to Olena. The woman moaned, shaking her head.

“Take the eyes,” her father ordered.

Nadja’s fingers trembled as she lifted her hand to Olena’s cheek. The woman’s eyes pleaded with her to stop. Nadja’s fingers slipped in Olena’s tears, her own falling to splash in droplets on Olena’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Nadja whispered lifting the scalpel close to Olena’s eyes. Turning to look at her father, she said, “I love you.”

Doc Aleksander smiled. Nadja, using a move Pia had showed her, turned, thrusting the blade into her father’s heart. The man blinked in surprise. Nadja held completely frozen, unable to move as a fine mist of blood sprayed over her from his chest. In slow motion, she watched him fall to his knees.

Chaos erupted all around her. Yusef and Olek burst from the trees, subduing Doc’s men with slashes to their throats and rips through their guts.

Nadja stared down. Doc looked up at her, his lips hardly moving. His hand lifted as if to touch her. Nadja fell to her knees, taking his hand into her own.

He pulled her ear down to his mouth and whispered. When Nadja sat back up, he was dead.

Yusef freed Olena, hugging her to his shifted chest as he assured himself she was unharmed. Olek stood above Nadja and motioned to his brother that he should take the shaken Olena home.

When he looked down, he saw a scalpel protruding from a patch on the man’s shirt that matched Nadja’s tattoo. He saw the blood on her arm, but she ignored it. The wound didn’t appear to trouble her. Her beautiful features were spotted with crimson droplets.

Nadja grabbed the hilt of the scalpel, pulled it from the man’s chest, and turned it off. She tossed it over to his medical bag on the ground. Around the edge of the badge he read the words, “Medical Alliance for Planetary Health”.

“Nadja?” he asked. Her eyes blankly turned to look at him and he felt a hollowness forming inside of her.

“He said he forgave me,” she whispered. Then, pushing to her feet, she buried herself into her husband’s arms and didn’t say another word.

Draig soldiers came to the campsite at Yusef’s command, shifted and ready for battle. Olek ordered them to remove the bodies. Nadja still hadn’t spoken after that single sentence. No tears fell from her eyes.

She pulled back from Olek to watch the Draig soldiers taking the bodies.

“Nadja?” Olek asked quietly.

“Burn the henchmen,” she ordered. She hardly moved. Her eyes stared out of her head with an eerie, foreign light. “They’re genetically altered clones, human drones. They had no feelings.”

Olek nodded, calling out her order to the men.

Nadja kneeled beside her father. Unbuttoning the top button on his shirt, she pulled a small oval locket from around his neck. Jerking it, she broke the leather strap. Olek watched as she twisted it. Her picture was on the inside of it. She pressed her finger onto her miniature face. A beam of light came up and then a screen appeared, floating in the air.

“We are recording,” came a voice.

“This is Nadja Aleksander,” she said calmly to the burly man who answered the call. Her face gave nothing away. The man appeared to see her face clearly, but didn’t flinch when he saw the blood splattered on it. Nadja’s eyes hardened as she looked back at him.

“Medical identification?” the man asked.

“Evening Dove,” she answered.

“Number?” The man was emotionless.

“Ten. Twelve. One,” she stated. Olek was shaken by her unmoving features. He couldn’t even feel a trace of emotion coming from her. It was like she was dead inside.

“Miss Aleksander,” the man acknowledged.

“My father is dead.”

“Yes, Lady Aleksander,” the man’s tone changed. Olek saw him rise to his feet and bow to her. “How may I serve you, Lady Aleksander?”

“Follow this signal,” she ordered. “Transport his body and dismantle the camp. Take everything.”

The man nodded. “It will be done, Lady.”

“Tell my mother he died nobly and well,” she continued. Olek frowned at the obvious lie. “Tell her it was an accident. Don’t let her see the body until the mortician has finished his work.”

“Yes, Lady,” he answered. “And shall we be coming for you?”

Nadja glanced at Olek. Slowly, she shook her head in denial. “My father was the head of this family. Now, as his heir, I am breaking apart the family. Tell Doc Truman that I’ll not be taking my father’s place at his side. He died before he could name a second.”

“Yes, Lady.”

“My mother gets everything, every penny,” Nadja said. “I want you personally to see to the funeral. Bring him to the Hazare Complex. Doc Truman will undoubtedly meet you there to give you a new assignment. I go to Datlis to start over. Wipe this planet from the records. There is nothing here for the Medical Alliance but a bunch of primitives who won’t serve any purpose.”

“Yes Lady,” the man said. His fingers moved over to a computer to do as she commanded.

“Evening Dove, ten, twelve, one, out,” Nadja stated. Flipping off the communicator, she dropped it on her father’s chest. It blinked a signal for the ship to trace.

“Nadja?” Olek asked.

She shivered as if really looking at him for the first time. Weakly, she said, “Just let them come, don’t get in their way. If you give them no trouble, they will take all this away and leave for good.”

“Nadja,” he insisted, worried about her. Suddenly, she paled. Olek darted forward, catching her as she blacked out into his arms.

Chapter 40

Nadja awoke in the medic unit. She saw her husband speaking to Yusef. Olena was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting up, she whispered, “Olena?”

Olek glanced at her, rushing to her side. “She’s fine. She was injected with something and they have her in the medic unit trying to discover what it was.”

“I want to see her,” Nadja said. She moved to stand.

“In a moment,” Olek insisted. His eyes darted over her with caring, but she was still too numb to see it. She had to make sure Olena was all right first. If her foolish actions in running from her home had caused any harm, she would never be able to forgive herself.

Olek studied her.

She blinked, looking at him. “There is a baby.”

Olek grinned, nodding happily. “I know. He’s fine.”

Nadja nodded. She didn’t return his smile. Her eyes drifted back to the door where Olena was in the medic unit.

Suddenly, the medic, Tal, went to the door and opened it. Yusef was right behind him in the doorway.

Nadja stood, brushing past Olek to go forward. Lightly, she touched Yusef’s arm and whispered, “Can I have a moment?”

Yusef frowned, but nodded his head. He motioned for Tal to leave the women alone.

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said when the door shut behind the two men. She was glad to see Olena was indeed alive and well. A dam broke in her, as she rushed, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Olena chuckled lightly. “Don’t apologize. You saved my life.”

“I couldn’t let him kill again. You have nothing to worry about,” Nadja said. She swayed slightly on her feet and Olena could tell she was worn out. “As Doc’s heir, I dissolved the family. They won’t be back.”

Nadja moved over to the machine as it beeped. Absently, she moved to the panel and pushed a button for it to continue. She pulled up a chair, waiting as it cycled, and then she again pressed a button.

“Nadja, I’m sorry. I know he was your father,” Olena said.

Nadja held up a hand to stop her from saying more about it. “I am one of the few who could have done it without backlash. No, it was time for his terror to end.”

“Still,” Olena tried.

“Thank you.” Tears came to Nadja’s eyes and she sniffed. Shaking her head, she again held up her hand for silence. No more words were needed on the subject. A part of her was saddened. He was her father and a part of her loved him. But she didn’t regret her actions.

The unit beeped again and Nadja glanced down to the screen.

“Are you in pain?” Nadja asked at the panel’s prompting.

“No,” Olena said.

Nadja pressed a button.

“How’s your baby?” Olena asked.

Nadja sniffed and wiped her eyes. She thought of Olek, desperately wanting to see him now that she knew Olena was all right. It was as if she’d finally crawled out of a nightmare. Reading the panel, she grinned. Laughing lightly, she said, “Hopefully as healthy as yours.”

Nadja was quiet as Olek walked her home. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but she was scared. He didn’t mention what he thought about her father or about what had happened. And she was too ashamed to ask him.

As they went to bed, Olek didn’t say a word. Nadja lay down beside him. He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly against his chest. That night, he didn’t let her go.

Chapter 41

A sweet, exotic scent curled around Nadja in her dreams, causing a smile to touch her lips. All around her were the small brushes of silken softness. Blinking awake, she realized Olek was gone, but petals of solarflowers were sprinkled all around her.

She sighed, running her fingers over his pillow. Her fingers met with a piece of paper and she instantly sat up. It was a portrait of her sleeping, surrounded by the petals. In the corner, Olek had written, I have to go meet with my brothers. We have discovered King Attor’s camp and will go to face him. I couldn’t bear to wake you when you looked this beautiful asleep. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

Nadja felt tears coming to her eyes. She rushed from the bedroom, out into the hall to see if she could catch him. The portrait was clutched in her fingers. He was long gone. Her fingers trailed to her flat stomach. He couldn’t go to battle without her speaking to him first. She had so much she needed to say to him.

“Open,” Nadja ordered the door, ducking under into the hall before it was even up. “Olek!”

Nadja ran down the passageway barefoot.

“Olek, wait,” she yelled, not caring who heard. Coming around the corner, she nearly toppled over the king. “Oh!”

“Hey, easy,” King Llyr said. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she mumbled, trying to get past him. “Olek.”

“Shh, daughter, wait,” the king said. “You can’t go to him now. He’s in the lower dungeons. Agro discovered from the spy that King Attor is camped along the southern border, planning an attack.”

“Then take me down to the prisons,” she ordered.

“No,” he denied gruffly. “They are no place for a lady.”

“But,” she tried to protest.

“Now, come on,” the king said. He took her elbow and led her down the hall toward her house. She still held the picture and he glanced at it briefly. “Let’s just get you back inside. You shouldn’t be straining yourself in your condition.”

Nadja blushed, following her father-by-marriage’s guiding hand. The king ordered the door to her home shut behind them. He led her to the couch and urged her to sit.

Staring up at him, she asked, “He told you about the baby?”

“Of course he told me,” the king said. “He’s told everyone.”

Nadja sighed. “Then he does know.”

“He heard your father mention it.” His eyes turned serious as he took a seat. “How are you, daughter?”

“Fine,” she said absently. “And he wasn’t upset about it? He was…happy?”

“Of course Olek was happy,” the king answered loudly, but Nadja could see the caring in his eyes. “We all are.” He paused. “I don’t know what that man did to you, girl, but he’s not your family. We are.”

Nadja blinked, tears forming in her eyes.

“Ah,” the king grimaced, “don’t go getting all emotional on me.”

Nadja bit her lips, sniffing her tears back, and dutifully nodded.

“All right, then, good.” He relaxed when he saw she wasn’t about to start bawling. “Now, why would you think he wouldn’t be happy? Surely you sensed his feelings about it.”

Nadja shook her head in denial.

“Well, why didn’t you read them for yourself if you were curious?” The king looked at her like she was crazy. “That is why the gods gave you the gift of it.”

“The gift of the baby?” she asked, confused.

“Did those Galaxy Brides people tell you girls nothing?” He frowned in dismay. “The gift of himself.”

Nadja just stared at him blankly.

“Ah,” he sighed heavily. “You remember the whole crystal smashing, right?”

Nadja nodded.

“All right, then,” he grumbled. “Pay attention. Our crystals have magical powers. They glow and we find our wives. We choose to take them back to our tents for…well,” he paused and cleared his throat. “You stay and choose us, you crush the crystal, our life extends yours and there you have it. You’re joined.”

Nadja blinked at the rough description of a wedding.

“You understand?”

Nadja shook her head in denial.

The king sighed. “Qurilixian babies are given a crystal when they are born. They’re magical.”

Nadja nodded, trying not to laugh at his exasperated face.

“When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in such a way that can never be taken back. You exchanged part of your souls, or so the women keep telling us. By crushing the crystal, you assured the exchange would never be reversed. And in the process, he gave you some of his years so you could live longer together. Do you understand what I am telling you, so far?”

Nadja dutifully nodded. She didn’t dare smile too brightly at the king, lest he stop his explanation.

“All right, good.” His hands clenched into large fists on his lap as if he forced himself on. “Each of you are like half of a, uh, a sword. Without the other side, you can’t…”

“Lob someone’s head off?” Nadja offered.

“Exactly!” the king exclaimed with a smile. “It means he’s yours and so on—”

“So on?” Nadja probed.

“Yeah, he’s done sleeping with other women,” the king answered. “Now, since you’ve bonded together, you can read each other’s, you know—ah, hell! Ask your husband. It’s his job to explain all this. I only came by to tell you Zoran approves of your warrior cream. He’s requesting a larger batch to issue supplies to the men. Make a list of what you need and I’ll get a worker right on it.”

Nadja smiled and nodded, thinking more of Olek than her herbal creation.

The king stood and placed his hands on his hips. “Now stay here. Olek should be back by tomorrow morning at the latest. I don’t want you running about risking my grandson.”

“Is that a royal decree?” Nadja asked with an impish grin. She couldn’t help it.

“Yes,” he grumbled, trying to frown at her but failing. “Yes, it most certainly is!”

The news came that night that the men were off to battle with King Attor and his Var warriors. The Draig trackers managed to confirm the spy’s words as to the position of Attor’s encampment. Nadja was worried, lying in bed for most of the night, the dome curtains drawn, as she tried to sleep.

She’d found the box of jewels her father had given her, and had spent most of the day crying over them as she tried to remember the good things about him, though they were very few in number. Replacing the last piece in the box and closing it forever, she finally wiped away the last tear she would ever shed for him.

Doc Aleksander was the past. Olek and their baby was the future.

Olek didn’t make his way home until late the next afternoon. Nadja was waiting for him when he walked through the door. To his surprise, he was greeted with a sprinkling of kisses on his face and a long pair of legs wrapping around his waist.

His hands instantly cupped beneath her ass to hold her to him. His mouth parted in astonishment and she moved to kiss him deeply, her tongue dipping to explore his mouth as she tried to steal his breath.

“Mmm,” Olek moaned, pulling back. A quizzical grin on his face, he whispered, “What’s this?”

Her hands roamed over his shoulders and suddenly she flinched. “Ow, your sword.”

She swung her legs back around to the ground. Olek chuckled. The hilt of his sword had poked her in the upper thigh. When she had safely landed, he let her go and unstrapped the weapon from his waist.

“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you about my father, Olek,” Nadja rushed. “He was one of the leaders of the Medical Mafia. The Alliance is just a front. They could easily save lives, but they don’t. They take them. I couldn’t stay there and marry his associate, Hank. That’s why I ran away and wanted a farmer. I was scared he would find me. And then I saw that dart in Morrigan and I knew he,” Nadja inhaled a deep breath, “had come for me. He used to make me carry them across border checkpoints in my hair. Anyway, that’s how I knew what it was. I knew he was watching us and that’s why I yelled at you. He hated anything not completely human and I was afraid he would try to torture you. I was so scared. And you don’t repulse me, and I don’t care that you shift—in fact it was kind of…oh,” she blushed, but hastened on. “So what happened with King Attor, was anyone hurt? Why were you gone so long?”

Nadja stopped, looking expectantly at him. Her wide blue eyes blinked beneath her fanning lashes.

Through her whole babbling tirade, Olek managed to piece her story together. She searched his face as if her whole life depended on what he would say next. Gone was his reserved Nadja who always had a calm answer. He found he liked the babbling version. She was adorable.

“We all are fine. Attor is dead. I’ve been negotiating peace with his son, the new Var King. It looks promising—” he couldn’t finish his answer.

“So you know I’m pregnant?” Nadja broke into his words.

Olek was going to say that peace looked promising. That it would be slow going, but could be achieved. Some of the older nobles would protest on both sides. However, in the end, they would bow to the decision of their leaders.

“Yes,” he said. “I heard your father mention it in the forest and you told me in the medical ward before you spoke to Olena.”

“I did?” she asked, surprised. “It is all such a blur.”

“Yes, you did.” Olek was about to say more, when she broke in again.

“Do you hate me?” Nadja hesitated. “I’ve never killed anyone, I swear. Well, no one but my father. I never did the things he did. I understand if you want me to leave. I know this has to be an embarrassment to your family. So, do you hate me?”

Olek swept forward to her, gracefully wrapping his arms about her waist. “How could I even think of hating you, Nadja, when I have loved you since first seeing you?”

Nadja trembled. Tears poured down her face and she jumped up and wrapped her legs back around his waist. “You love me, you really do?”

A rush of feeling poured out of him, connecting her to him and him to her. This connection was strong and free. It would never be severed.

“Y—” Olek couldn’t even get the word out.

Nadja started kissing his face. “I love you. I love you,” she whispered into him, panting her words between her light, scattered caresses. “I love our baby. I love our life. I love this. I love you, Olek. I love y—”

Olek captured her lips to his, chuckling happily into her. Nadja instantly melted, moaning against him. He pressed her to him. Suddenly, she pulled away, her eyes shining with mischief though her face was serious.

“What?” he asked, his lips curling with his perfect smile.

Nadja licked her lips and squirmed naughtily against him. “I think your sword is poking me again.”

Olek growled, “Keep moving like that wife, and it will be sure to impale you.”

Nadja’s laughter was cut off by her prince’s kiss. She clung onto him, taking everything he gave her. Life was perfect. They were perfect. And, as he carted her off to his bed, she whispered, “I hope you never let me go.”

The End

Dark Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

By Michelle M. Pillow

Dark Prince (Dragon Lords) © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

Previously Titled: The Dark Prince (Dragon Lords)

10th Anniversary Edition, Third Electronic Printing June 2014, The Raven books

Second Electronic Printing August 2010, The Raven Books

First Electronic November 2004

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ISBN 978-1-62501-086-5

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

About Dark Prince

Dragonshifting Romance

Out of the fire…

Intergalactic thief, Olena Leyton is one of the best space pirates in history. Sailing the high skies in search of adventure is in her blood. When her crew is scattered in a run from the law and her ship explodes into a ball of flames, the injured Olena is forced to find sanctuary on a bride procurement ship. Posing as a blushing ‘mail-order’ bride on the primitive planet of Qurilixen to elude the bounty hunters pursuing her is a necessity of circumstance. But, being a bride isn’t something this pirate takes seriously.

Into the flames…

Dragon-shifting Prince Yusef leads a simple life away from the palace. He knows from the first moment he sees his fiery temptress that he will possess her and make her his mate for all time. The prince soon learns that playing with fire will always leave a man burned. However, with passions that surge as powerful as theirs, he is not willing to give up his bride without a fight.

To JRA, for making me laugh, for smiling and nodding at my crazy ideas, for getting my jokes, and for agreeing to build me a spaceship. You might not remember that last one, but it happened. You agreed to it. Trust me.

Chapter 1

Olena Leyton’s calculating eyes shot hot sparks of angry fire, as she met her reflection in a broken piece of glass on the ground. A drop of blood splattered over her right eye. She grimaced in annoyance and pressed her fingers to the seeping wound in her arm. The black spandex of her top had been ripped. She cursed. Biting her lip, she felt a chunk of metal embedded deep within her skin. She gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the wound to pry out the jagged strip. Dispassionately, she eyed the metal before dropping it to the ground.

Her arm continued to ooze blood, a little worse than before, but she ignored it. Now was not the time for weakness. She was in the crate storage of some metal space dock. The large open door let in a cooling breeze from outside, making her shiver as it hit the layer of sweat on her skin. Leaning forward, she squinted, trying to read the address label on one of the crates. X Quadrant, Earthbase 5792461.

X Quadrant!

She let loose a long breath. Her ship really had gone off course. Glancing over the lush alien countryside she’d run three miles through, she took a calming breath. Her heart hammered, more from the sprint than the pain in her arm. Her escape had been too close for comfort.

Vexatious bounty hunters, trying to get back what she rightfully stole. They had shot up her ship, scattered her crew, and now she was stranded in the X Quadrant. Things couldn’t get much worse.

Olena was wrong. With a frown, she watched as an orange ball of fire lit up the distance. She cursed and closed her eyes as she saluted the last breath of her ship. With that kind of beacon, the bounty hunters would be all over this planet like a Ven-5 sand ray on an injured fighter pilot, not to mention the local law enforcement. Wouldn’t they love to get their hands on this little pirate?

“Not going to happen,” Olena grumbled, darkly. She looked around, refusing to give up. She had been in tougher spots than this. Granted, she usually had her crew with her.

Discovering a row of small luxury crafts, and personal transport ships, that had been lined up for pre-flight maintenance, she grinned. Oh, this was almost too easy. She stood and was instantly sorry. Lightheaded, she swayed on her feet and had to concentrate to keep from blacking out.

Olena glanced at her arm. Her blood trickled over her arm pooling onto the floor, staining the black spandex of her pants, and dripping onto her leather boot. She needed a medic, and fast. But, worst of all, she was in no condition to fly. She could very well pass out during the gravity shift of takeoff.

Moving stealthily forward, she peeked through the windows of the personal transports for a first aid kit to tide her over, and the rich people who owned these crafts were always good for a supply of painkillers. Right now she needed both.

Olena found a kit and glanced around to make sure the place was empty. With a swift kick, she smashed in the window and unlocked the transport. Moments later, she had her arm bandaged and a couple pills stuck and dissolving in her dry throat. She tried to swallow them.

“Who’s there?”

Olena froze in her search for a bottle of liquor, and silently cursed. Blasted dock security guards. Why didn’t they find themselves a real job?

Olena edged close to the ground to peek around the side of the transport. The security guard came into view. She cursed again. Her arm was in no shape for self-defense. Looking at her waist, she saw her gun registered empty. She had used all her ammunition to fire her way out of the ship’s metal side. The hatch had been jammed by the ground.

Hearing a rush of feet coming from the other direction, she stiffened. A woman hurried near them, covered with a rich fur cloak from head to foot and laden down with numerous suitcases. As Olena watched, she shifted her bags and pulled the cloak tightly around her, jerking it over her head, as if frightened of the dark and lonely docks at night. Olena smiled. She might not be able to drive, but this rich woman would definitely have her own vehicle.

Olena heard the guard move. He stopped to smile at the rich lady. The woman jolted in mild surprise to see him, but managed a weak nod of acknowledgement in return. The guard appeared to know her, because he waved at her and pointed down the docks. Olena looked in the transport. Seeing a coat, she slid it over her shoulders and buttoned the front to hide her pirating attire. Then, grabbing a hat, she positioned it on her flaming red hair, and tucked the ponytailed locks up beneath it.

Some floral bags had been stowed in the back seat and she took all four of them. Olena loaded them on her shoulders, trying not to flinch at the pain, as she began walking after the cloaked lady. She smiled innocently at the security guard who had forgotten his investigation and was going back toward the monitor room. He waved at her, pointing down the docks in the same direction he had for the other woman. Olena smiled brightly, as if she understood his signal.

She took the plank reserved for first class, again seeing the rich woman next to a uniformed man with a clipboard. The woman’s hood was down, and the brown hair appeared very respectable, pulled back into a bun. Olena squinted, detecting the glittering of diamond earrings on the woman’s ears. Instantly, her mind calculated the worth of them. Oh, she’d love to get her hands on those. It might make this little detour worth it.

Olena pasted a smile on her face as she watched a bunch of women load into the spacecraft, beneath a banner that read, Galaxy Brides, in curving script. Carting her new bags, she came forward to stand in line.

“Perfect, Miss—ah—Aleksander,” the uniformed man said to the rich woman. “Welcome aboard the flight to your future!”

Olena didn’t pay the woman’s answer any attention as she set her bags down. She turned to dig through her gun belt.

“No, Miss. Galaxy Brides Corporation owes you.” The man answered whatever Miss Aleksander had said.

Olena pulled out the first ID she came across and quickly tugged the coat to cover her weapon. She pushed the stolen luggage closer, kicking it lightly across the floor with her foot. Glancing over her shoulder, she thought she heard air sirens outside the dock. They would be going to investigate the explosion. She could only hope the blast had made her ship unrecognizable.

“I wish to invoke the right of privacy law. If anyone asks, I’m not here,” the rich lady said.

“Police?” the man questioned in surprise, though the idea didn’t seem to concern him. He obviously had a quota to fill and Olena knew these corporations were notorious for looking the other way.

Olena didn’t hear the woman’s answer, but saw the man nod in understanding. She tried to edge closer, taking another peek at the pricy earrings.

“I’ll make a note, Miss. That won’t be a problem.” The man wrote a notation on Miss Aleksander’s file.

“And, by the way, where are we going?” the woman asked, her voice mild and unwavering.

Olena stepped closer. She knew about Galaxy Brides. They were a corporation who peddled marriage to barbarian planets in need of women. Once she had been asked, by a lower breed of humanoids, to shanghai a load of brides. It was one of the few jobs she had turned down. Not even she could take profit from delivering hapless women to men who squirted slime from their…well…yeah.

The worker chuckled. “Most women ask before they come down here. It must be some maniac you are trying to get away from.”

The woman said nothing.

Reigning in his humor, he answered, “You’re heading to Qurilixen, Miss.”

The woman nodded before she walked away, following a droid who carried her bags. Instantly, Olena turned her sweetest smile on the uniformed worker. He grinned in response.

“Hi,” she murmured in a sultry vixen’s tone that she knew drove men to instant distraction. Pouting her lips, she said, “Oh, these bags are so heavy. I never thought I would get them all the way up the dock by myself.”

“Are you here as a last minute replacement?” the man inquired, his breathing quickened at the look she gave him. He took her bags and moved them forward.

“Oh, thank you,” she gushed with feigned innocence. “I’m so glad I made it on time. Rick at the office told me it would be all right if I tagged along. This is the flight to Qurilixen, isn’t it? I didn’t get lost again?”

“Yes, Miss. I know Rick,” the worker lied. “Fine man.”

“Why yes, he is,” Olena giggled with a toss of her hand and a playful bat of her eyelashes.

“Sign here,” he said, handing over the clipboard. “We are several girls short, so they’ll be more than happy to have you. Your health screenings will be done in flight. You’ll have room 209 on platform two. It’s the one all the way to the back, left side. Ship orientation is tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Earthtime.”

“That is perfect,” she declared, as she set her ID on top of the clipboard. To her surprise, it was her real name. Out of all the fake IDs to choose from what were the odds? Since it was too late to grab an alias, she signed her name with flourish.

The man looked at the ID and handed it back. “Here you go, Miss.”

“Oh, and…” Olena glanced down at the man’s name tag. “Rick said it would be all right if I invoked the right of privacy law. He said just to tell Bernie, and you would personally see to it my privacy isn’t violated.”

“Stalker?” the man asked.

“Oh, is it that obvious?” Olena pouted, trying her best not to laugh at the protective look the guy gave her. She dabbed fake tears from her widened eyes and sniffed.

“No, Miss,” Bernie answered in a self-important tone. He motioned to a droid to pick up her bags for her. “It just seems that there is a lot of that going around lately. The galaxies can be a dangerous place. You’re very lucky to have found a reputable company like ours.”

One month later…

Olena sighed happily, resting back in the beauty chair in absolute comfort. A droid massaged her feet in the pedicure basin. A second unit rubbed her neck with two robotic hands while its other four did her hair. Looking around the parlor, she had memorized almost every one of the brides’ names. It was an old habit, one that had saved her hide more than a few times.

Besides, what else could she have done during the last month of deep space travel? Plan her future marriage with a barbarian husband? Knit him and their nonexistent children space helmet liners?

No thanks. Not likely. Never going to happen.

The brides prepared for the Breeding Festival which would happen that very night on Qurilixen. The planet had no locally born women because of one of their suns’ blue radiation made the men shoot boy-only sperm. She supposed it was admirable they paid for wives rather than raiding other planets and taking unwilling captives. Then again, kidnapping women could cause the brides’ families to get upset. Aliens would attack the planet for revenge. Intergalactic war would start. People would die. Security measures would be heightened and pirating would get a lot more dangerous.

The mass wedding was held on the one night of darkness on the otherwise sunshiny planet. Apparently, the locals only let the men get married in the dark. Oh, there were so many, many jokes she could tell on that little piece of cultural trivia. How horrible were these guys that they had to hide their faces, and pay for women so desperate they’d marry anything?

Olena had every intention of finding a poor sucker to marry her. What easier way to lay low for a few months as she plotted her escape? Besides, free room and board? Who could resist? Although, the dupe would probably want to have sex with her. It was an annoying detail, but one she wasn’t overly concerned about. She was fairly confident she could lie her way out of any marital duties. If he became too handsy, she’d drug him, or hit him over the head, or start speaking in religious tongues until he ran away terrified.

She couldn’t help wondering what the Qurilixian males must be like—a whole planet of Medieval Old Earth warrior types. From her experience, men who were left in each other’s company for too long tended to lack certain social graces. But, since Olena also lacked certain social graces, this temporary layover might actually be fun.

Smirking, Olena inwardly laughed at the other women onboard the Galaxy Brides’ ship. They were all such dopes, with their high hopes of having a royal marriage and living blissfully ever after—on a primitive planet, with guys too grotesque to be married in daylight. Yeah, like anyone ever found true love at the end of a glowing crystal. What these foolish women would find had nothing to do with love. People loved when it was convenient for them to do so, or when they were getting something out of it.

Olena chuckled, a grin forming on her features. Why else would the Qurilixian men call their wedding ceremony a Breeding Festival? It was so laughably obvious. It had nothing to do with love and everything to do with a planet full of horny males, with no females of their own, who needed to find release. Hell, it was easy to say “I love you” to one of the only women on the entire planet. How else were the poor bastards going to get laid?

Olena took her feet out of the water at the droid’s gentle push and set them on the edge of the basin. She watched the droid stain her toenails with permanent polish.

Maybe, I’ll find a prince and make the entire planet worship at my feet, Olena mused with a whimsical smile. Queen Olena has a nice ring to it.

She would never do it. Though it might be fun to play queen, the truth was the wanderlust in her veins would eventually get the better of her. No planet could hold her interest for long. With permanence came responsibility. Pirates tended to stay away from such mature undertakings.

Olena closed her eyes and concentrated. The ship had uploading services, and she’d been able to interface with the specialized software to load planetary information directly into her brain. Though convenient, it took work to actually sort through all the suddenly-gained knowledge.

The words filtered through her mind, “The fact that the Qurilixian have no women of their own, is why the services of corporations like Galaxy Brides are so invaluable to them. In return, the Qurilixian mine a special ore that is only found in their caves. That ore is a great power source for long-voyaging starships, all but useless to the Qurilixian because they are not known as explorers. For you as brides, this is good news. Your men won’t be leaving for other colonies after the marriage.”

Olena frowned as she tried to focus past the marital sales pitch Galaxy Brides snuck into the program.

“The Qurilixian worship many gods, favor natural comforts over modern technical conveniences, and prefer to raise, grow, and cook their own food. They have been peaceful for nearly a century, aside from petty territorial skirmishes that break out every fifteen or so years between a few of the rival houses. So brides have nothing to fear. At Galaxy Brides, we take your happiness very seriously. That is why we—”

“Ugh, never mind,” she mumbled to herself. She wanted useful information and they’d uploaded a blasted commercial.

As backwards as these barbaric men sounded, she hoped they at least had a space port so she could easily hitch a ride off the planet. If her situation wasn’t so dire, it would have been hilarious.

The planet was in the Y Quadrant. That was good. Olena was familiar with the territory. She had escaped a renegade hunter a few years back, by flying into an asteroid belt that ran through its outer edge. She had seen the red-brown planet briefly and had almost stopped for repairs. Even though she hadn’t landed, a pirate always remembered a potential planet on which to hide. You never knew when it would come in handy. Her excellent memory and dumb luck were the only reasons she’d survived this long.

But, knowing what she did now, how they were a superstitions lot who shunned modern technical conveniences in favor of natural comforts, she was kind of sorry she hadn’t paid them a quick visit before now. With the right crew, she could have scammed the unsophisticated kingdom for all their valuables in a month’s time. Good thing a corporation like Galaxy Brides was there to find them—

“Blasted space monkeys!” she swore under her breath. Stupid commercial get out of my head.

The droid pedicuring feet finished its task. Olena wiggled her toes, sure they’d never looked so pretty.

This trip hadn’t been so bad. She’d traveled in far worse accommodations. Plus, the ship had a medic unit. She’d found it that first night, typed in her room number, and seconds later her arm was fixed without even a scar to show for it.

The spacecraft was luxurious, but she’d spent the last four weeks quarantined with a boatful of jittery, excited brides. Apparently the corporation didn’t want the shipment compromised by the male crew. Olena looked around. Um, these women were crazy enough to sign on to be ship- order brides. She’d hazard a guess and say the shipment was already a little compromised to begin with.

After a month of traveling with the giggling twits, Olena was sure that refusing the shanghai gig had been one of her best calls. She would have dumped the brides out of her smaller rust bucket of a ship in a lunar second.

Stop judging, she scolded herself. You don’t know their stories.

But you have to admit they giggle. A lot, herself answered.

Personal droids and cooking units were assigned to each passenger. She had used her cleaning droids to no end, spending hours making a mess just to watch the things pick up. They never complained. As soon as she heisted a new ship, Olena was going to make sure she took a dozen of those little numbers with it. As for eating, having known firsthand the pangs of starvation, she gladly feasted on more than her fair share of food simulator meals.

Yep, her accommodations could have been much, much worse. Option number two would have included being tied up in a prison, held at the mercy of some half-wit bounty hunter, who’d more than likely try to take an advance on his wages with her unwilling body. Then, she’d have to kill him, she’d be left helpless, that ship would crash…disastrous.

“They are gorgeous, but I think I am going to go get my breasts enhanced again—just a little bigger—and I’m going to have my nipples enlarged.” Hearing Gena make reference—again—to her own genetically altered breasts, Olena forced a false smile and giggled with the rest of them. Gena’s boobs were an ungodly size. Olena had been tempted more than once to bump into the woman just to see if she tipped over.

Oh, yeah. This was getting old. Good thing they were docking in a few hours or she might have tried squeezing out of the small port window in her room so she could float away into deep space.

Gena kept babbling, but Olena ignored her as she looked down at her own body. She had taken advantage of some of the services, having the hair on her legs and armpits permanently removed. She didn’t care much for the body altering, though she did get one annoyingly puckered brand removed from her backside.

“How will you know who the princes are?” came the cynical reasoning of Pia Korbin. Olena looked to her right. She liked the sarcastic Pia. “I’ve heard all the men wear disguises. You could end up with a royal guard.”

“Or a gardener,” a brunette offered with a laugh.

“I hear they wear practically nothing at all,” Olena said, just to get a rise out of the women. “Except a mask and some fur.”

She wasn’t disappointed. They tittered in excitement.

“You can’t miss royalty,” the self-important Gena announced, tossing her auburn hair. “You’ll see it—”

Blah, blah, blarg, blah, Olena mentally filled-in as the woman spoke, rolling her eyes.

Olena caught her reflection in a mirror. Weakly, she waved back the hands of the beauty droid who had finished curling her locks. For a moment, she froze, not recognizing the woman in the plush white cotton robe staring back at her. Turning her head to one side and then the other, she frowned as she studied her upswept locks. The sides pulled up into a center knot, only to cascade down her back in curls. She looked like a spoiled rich girl and it made her uncomfortable.

“Come on, Olena.” Riona Grey placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned over to whisper in her ear. They’d spent quite a bit of time drinking in Riona’s suite, playing Frendle’s Chips and avoiding the others. “Want to have a couple drinks and try to find a way off this ship that doesn’t include a gangway?”

Olena smiled, but was unable to take her eyes away from the stranger in her reflection. “I wish.”

“Try to find me if you don’t get married. We’ll raise fury on this planet.” Riona chuckled and pushed back. She’d spent a lot of hours with the woman, but had a feeling this might be one of the last times they actually spoke. Riona didn’t seem intent on staying, but Olena needed to find a husband so she could find a ride off the floating rock. Then she’d be logged out of Galaxy Brides’ active database.

Swallowing, she shook herself from the trance and stood to follow the others out into the hall leading to their suites. She took a deep breath, telling herself none of this mattered. What was a little marriage if it would help her recover her freedom? It wasn’t as if she had any plans to marry for love or happiness. The universes were a rough place. A girl had to do what she had to do. Like everything else in her life, this adventure was just a means to an end. Her hair would soon be undone and this costume she wore discarded.

Then, forcing herself to look on the bright side, she glanced down at her stained toenails and thought, Won’t the crew get a kick out of this!

Chapter 2

Olena shivered, uncomfortably standing in her traditional silk and gauze Qurilixian gown. At least it was black, a perfect color for her unamused mood. She felt like one of the female slaves being readied for the auction block of Phatar. The only redeeming factor was, unlike the slaves, there was no collar around her neck, and she had the hope of escaping.

The revealing outfit had been cut low on her chest, basically showcasing her goodies for the barbarian suitors. Her skin looked overly pale next to the black. The skirt clung to her waist and hips, but the bottom pieces looked shorn as if she’d been attacked by something with claws. Cloth shackles bound both arms—elbows to wrists—fastening them to her waist. Though she could have escaped the silk chains, it greatly added to the whole slave auction effect the men seemed to be going for.

What was marriage anyway, if not voluntary slavery? she thought. Olena almost felt sorry for the guy who picked her. He would really have no idea what he was getting himself into.

It was too late to change course now. This was happening.

The brides stood in the corridor leading out of the ship’s port. Olena closed her eyes briefly as a breeze whipped her skirt around her legs. With a deep breath she steeled her nerves and opened her eyes with an expression that denoted a confidence she didn’t necessarily feel. She wore the mask like a shield, with an automatic series of facial movements that created the illusion she was in complete control of her destiny, and that she knew something very important the onlooker didn’t.

She was the first slave on the auction block and was provided with an ample view of what was going on below. Determined, she took stock of her primitive surroundings. Below her, men howled in delight as her dress blew higher around her thighs. Olena was too proud to push the skirt down. Let the wind blow it where it would. She lifted her chin into the air and gave a half smile she didn’t feel.

Standing before her, shoulder to shoulder in two long lines, were the bachelors. They didn’t move, didn’t shout, as they formed an aisle of naked flesh. Olena had already been instructed that she was to lead the other women through so the men could get a look at them. As her skirt blew around her again, revealing her athletic thighs, she mused, There, let them have a good ole peek.

The blue-green of dusk obscured the distant mountains and nearby forest with shadows, slowly changing the appearance of the reddish-brown soil to black. Stars winked down framing a large moon. She’d been on planets like this before—well, maybe the trees were a little smaller on other planets, but close enough. Seeing a nearby tree trunk nearly one fourth the size of the Galaxy Brides’ spacecraft, she smirked. Okay, so trees were a lot smaller on other planets.

Glowing ash from the nearby bonfires drifted overhead, before losing their fire as they blew away in the cool breeze. The smell of burning wood wafted over her as the wind shifted. The rowdy crowd seemed to be getting louder. Behind them, near the back, couples kissed openly. The style was obviously long hair for both sexes. The women wore dresses of flowing material and the men wore simple tunic shirts and breeches. Such fashion was created with natural fibers. The women sitting on the men’s laps didn’t look like prostitutes, so she guessed they were married couples. It was a strange notion, being in the bridal line looking at a possible future.

Not that she would ever choose such a future.

Music and laughter resounded over them. The campgrounds were filled with large pyramid tents. They glowed from within as torches lit dim earthen pathways between them. Ribbons and banners floated on the breeze in many brilliant colors. Olena refused to be impressed by the sight. The less she liked about this place, the better it would be when she left. And if not better, easier.

The silent, seven foot barbarian-grooms were larger than she first anticipated, though Olena was hardly a woman to back down from such a thing. This was definitely an isolated warrior- class planet. They would take pride in themselves and their ways of doing things. Their pride would equal arrogance, and she knew just how to play to arrogance.

The grooms wore only three things—a fur loincloth wrapped their thick waists to leave bare their muscular legs and chests, jewelry consisting of a bracelet of intricate gold around their sinewy biceps and a crystal necklace, and a black leather mask that hid their faces, from upper lip to forehead, from view.

She tried to hide her smirk as she remembered thinking how hideous they must have looked, wanting to get married in the dark. Then, seeing the unmasked crowd behind them, her smirk faded. These people weren’t ugly or malformed. Far from it. Swallowing nervously, she tried to keep fear from creeping into her chest.

Firelight transformed oil-glistened flesh into glowing towers of solid bronzed perfection. Chests rose steadily and muscles were tense, like the predator anticipating prey, counting the heartbeats until it was time to pounce.

Olena detected the lust radiating bright and feverish from the eye slits in the masks. Their heated gazes oozed like liquid metal—possessive, dominant, ready to lay claim.

Yep, Olena told herself, no longer feeling any guilt for what she was about to do. Slave auction.

Prince Yusef of Draig stared at the red-headed vixen at the front of the bridal line. The black of her dress whipped boldly around her athletic body and she did not even try to stop it from lifting in the breeze. He saw the pride in her bright emerald eyes as she stood very still.

Yusef did not need to confirm his instant attraction to her by checking to see if the crystal hanging from his neck was beginning to glow. He knew the moment she stepped onto the deck that she was going to be his, even if he had to go against tradition, and the magic he believed in, to claim her.

Glancing down, he saw such drastic measures wouldn’t be necessary. A sultry smile curved up the corner of his mouth. The magic of the gods agreed with him. The fiery woman was destined to be his wife.

Again he stared at her, letting his eyes shift with the sight of a dragon, so that he could better see the details of her face. Her lips curled with what could have been mocking disdain for the whole affair. He smiled. Yes, this one definitely had fire and Yusef always loved to play with torches.

Olena sighed. Following the pilot’s signal to step down, she led the procession of brides through the long aisle of man-flesh. The soft slippers on her feet were uncomfortable as they didn’t fully protect her feet from the uneven earth. Oh, how she longed for her boots and maybe a drink. Scratch that. She could definitely use a drink. Boredom started to set in when—bam. She was breathless, captured by a spell.

Eyes of a dark and dangerous gray rose to challenge her, staring out from the face of an ungodly gorgeous man. This groom was so unlike the paler companions at his side. His skin had been kissed by Qurilixen’s suns, leaving no doubt by his lack of tan lines, that he spent a great deal of time naked and outdoors. His possessive gaze sent chills over her skin in a way so unfamiliar to her she had to consciously shake herself to be sure she still breathed.

The man smiled a slow, sultry smile she had seen so many times before. She wasn’t fooled. This man wanted her. He was trying to stake claim to her with his animal magnetism. Even as she resented his confident expression, she was stirred by it.

I’m surprised he doesn’t pee on my leg to mark his territory, she mused, trying to pretend that she wasn’t affected.

As she passed him, he had the audacity to bow to her. Olena snarled at him, snapping her teeth in a saucy wench sort of way, which appeared to greatly upset the plans of his male vanity. Nevertheless, soon he was recovered and she saw the unmistakable light of daring in his gaze. His mask shifted as his brows rose in acceptance of her challenge. Again he bowed, blowing her a kiss to make her cheeks flame.

Chapter 3

The presumption of that man!

Olena was too irritated to eat the huge feast laid out before the brides on a long wooden table. The food consisted of roasted two-horned pigs, blocks of Qurilixen blue bread with whipped cheese, strange fruit, and crusted pastries. Servants walked by replenishing the food like they’d be hung if something was out of place.

Olena eyed the campground path that led to the Galaxy Brides’ ship. The corridor of male flesh was no longer there. How dare he act like she would just come to him willingly because he wished it to be so? Oh, she knew what he wanted from her. It was clear in his very lecherous gaze.

Reaching for a piece of blue bread so she could tear it into tiny pieces, she grumbled to herself, Stupid, lecherous, handsome barbarian.

She shivered as she thought about his dark, come-hither smile. Olena frowned. As much as he annoyed her, she had to admit his confidence was attractive. That attraction irritated her.

Olena grabbed a slice of meat and took a bite out of spite, just to prove to herself that she wasn’t affected by the man. She could eat. She could have a good time. Watch as she lifted a glass in celebration. See how freaking merry and carefree she was?

Who was she kidding? She wanted nothing more than to run away and never look back. What made her think she could do this?

Simple, she thought. I didn’t think I’d feel anything.

What was wrong with her? She was better than this.

The married couples fed each other, as if it were a performance of marital bliss the brides were to watch. Servants carried pitchers and Olena eagerly waved one of them over. The man’s light blond hair fell over his shoulders as he bowed. The servants were more fully clothed than the grooms had been. She held up her goblet, barely giving him a second glance as she tasted the strange berry wine. It wasn’t a nerve-stiffening drink like she’d wanted, but she’d take what she could get.

“He makes for a peculiar servant,” Pia pondered at her side.

Olena glanced over, drinking as she did so. The woman’s gaze was suspicious as she watched the blond man walking away. He looked like a servant to her, not a very good one by the way he spilled some of the wine on the ground as he walked away, but a servant nonetheless.

“They make for a peculiar race,” Olena mumbled, secretly searching for the dark-haired stranger. She absently ran her fingers through her hair, touching the firefly hairpin she had stuck in her locks. It’s cold, black stones brought her a little comfort.

The wine settled her nerves and she was able to regain some of her composure. Surely it was shock that made her nervous. She hadn’t expected to find attraction. But that’s all it was. Momentary attraction brought on by a combination of her strange attire, and having been quarantined with a bunch of gossipy women.

Olena took a deep breath and smiled. She was ready for a good challenge. The men were forbidden to have sex this night. That just might work to her advantage. She’d have the dark barbarian turned around in circles before he ever knew what hit him.

Pia laughed softly. “Do you believe this whole deal?”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Olena asked curiously. “You hardly seem like the type to get trapped into coming.”

“Free benefits,” came Pia’s enigmatic answer. Her eyes shadowed for a moment and Olena wondered at the look. This woman was definitely hiding something. Before she could comment, Pia said, “I think I am going to follow that servant. He’s up to something.”

Pia stood but was kept from leaving as the grooms suddenly appeared before them, walking up to the table platform. They hadn’t changed out of the loincloths. Olena pretended not to notice the dark warrior coming for her.

Not all brides had been chosen and Olena grinned to see Gena still sitting alone with a look of horror on her stunned face.

Guess the magical breasts didn’t do the trick. Maybe you need to go just a bit bigger next time. Olena tried so hard not to laugh at her own thoughts, she gave a small snort.

“I am Yusef.”

Olena glanced up, covering her mouth at having been caught making such an indelicate sound. She purposefully faked a yawned, as she looked up at the dark warrior. She felt Pia move away and wanted to reach out to make the woman stay. She didn’t.

“Come,” Yusef said, his accent as thrillingly dark as his gaze. He lifted his hand to take hers. It was a strong hand, with long tapered fingers. She saw calluses along the palm and shivered. Such a hand would feel so delectable against her skin.

Olena glanced over his bronzed flesh, as if he was a piece of meat at a fueling station, and she the intergalactic health inspector. His chest was cut and chiseled, an effort of much hard work and training. Seeing his large arms, she knew she would never be able to take this man in a fair fight. That fact was disconcerting. He would crush her if she even dared. There was pride in him, an arrogance that came with such handsomeness. But the confidence didn’t deter her. She liked a man who knew his own worth. Being trapped with him for a few months might not be so bad. It might even be downright enjoyable.

Finishing her bold examination, she shrugged as if it were no big deal and said, “Sure, supernova, why not?”

A quizzical smile came to his mouth at her words. Olena took another leisurely drink of the wine. His expression wasn’t what she’d expected.

Without taking his offered hand, Olena pushed up from her chair and strode around the table by herself. She let her hips sway slightly, knowing from years of experience that he would be looking at them. Even though she appeared calm, her heart beat erratically fast. His voice sent chills over her flesh and turned her nervous system to water.

When Yusef merely watched her step down from the platform to the ground, her emerald eyes sparkled in mischief, as she said lightly, “Well, come on, won’t you? Let’s go get this over with.”

Yusef slowly came down from the platform, stopping to eye her as she had him. It was a bold stare, one that left no doubt he was undressing her with his mind. Olena’s confidence wavered slightly. He licked his lips.

“Are you done?” she demanded, her voice coming out a little harsh. Olena covered up her emotions with ease, slipping from one role to another despite what she felt on the inside. It was the only way a pirate of the high skies could survive.

“No,” he answered obstinately, continuing to look his fill. Olena’s arms crossed over her chest. He looked at her creamy breasts, pushed up and together by her defiant motion.

The crystal hanging from his neck pulsed and Olena discovered that her body was trying to pulse along with it. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the stone. Something wasn’t quite right. Her head was beginning to fog over with pleasure. What exactly were these barbarians up to? She glanced back at the table, seeing that more brides were being led off, their eyes glassy as they listlessly followed their future husbands.

Olena grinned, remembering all she had learned of the Qurilixian customs. Stepping boldly forward, she reached to grab his fur-covered manhood. To her surprise, it was already at half arousal. Squeezing it, she asked, “You want it here, barbarian?”

Yusef stiffened. His breath caught in amazement that his bride had actually grabbed him in public viewing. Her boldness excited him, but he also knew this was not the place. He wouldn’t dishonor his family or his name by acting like a greenknight at his first battlefront. Reading the mischief in her eyes, he knew she was teasing him.

The woman waited, her brow poised in dangerous challenge on her forehead, as she slowly licked her lips. The arousal beneath her fingers lurched. She grinned.

Before she had a chance to figure out his plan, Yusef leaned over and lifted her over his shoulder. She made a weak noise. Though clearly self-assured, she didn’t have a man’s strength to back up her fierce stance. Her body was light and he walked easily with her through the campground. His hand curled over her thighs, digging under the thin strips of material, to fasten on smooth, naked skin. His other arm wrapped around her dangling legs, trapping her to him.

Yusef strode with his prize, smiling like a fool. Seeing his friend Agro nearby pointing at him and laughing, he waved jauntily. A cry of amusement went over the onlookers.

His bride, clearly not to be outdone, ran her fingernails over the muscular curves of his back, scratching lightly. He shivered beneath her touch. His heart beat hard, thumping a wonderfully erotic rhythm beside her leg.

Without losing breath, he carted her through the entire encampment to the far end of the field. Keeping her balanced on his shoulder, he pushed open a black tent flap and carried her inside. He did not let her go, choosing to hold onto her, liking the silky feel of her body.

She pushed up on his shoulder to look around. He held her up from beneath the under curve of her ass, hugging her tightly to his chest. Tapping her nails lightly on his shoulders, she turned to look the other way. His face pressed next to her hip, as he breathed in the womanly scent of her.

Torches lit up the black walls, casting an eerie light over them. It glowed seductively on the creamy flesh of her legs. He automatically looked at the bed covered in fur in the middle of the tent. It had chains strapped to the four posts. He suppressed a growl as he thought of how fun it would be to have her chain him.

One of the three pyramid corners held a bath, steaming hot and very inviting. In the second corner was a table laden with food and drink. Traditionally, they were offerings left by the family to encourage a fertile marriage. Yusef didn’t think he’d need a plate full of chocolate aphrodisiacs to ensure he would do everything it took to make a fruitful marriage bed.

Slowly, he loosened his grip so she slid down his chest. He hugged his arms around her narrow waist. Her breast came before his face and he paused in his release to smile impishly up at her. He enjoyed the physical contact. Her soft body molded easily to his. Her exotic cinnamon scent washed over him, propelling his heart to race with desire and lust. He ached to taste her flesh. And she wanted him too.

Her eyes were in a constant state of mischief, though he guessed the look was meant to hide her other emotions. His little bride was a great mystery. He knew she was up to something, he just couldn’t tell what. He would have to be careful until he figured her out. But, in the meantime, he’d just wait and enjoy whatever wild ride she had in store for him.

Suddenly, her legs wrapped around his waist and she lowered herself letting her breasts brush by his lips. With one swift move, he could’ve taken her right then. He smelled it on her, wafting up from her hips like a perfume to tempt him into beastly madness.

Chapter 4

Olena grew nervous, wondering if she was pushing things too far. He was a man after all and she didn’t have a weapon to defend herself. But, seeing the restraint on his face and knowing the penalty for him would be great if he coupled with her, she relaxed. It was just a game, a game the Pirate Olena was determined to win.

Wiggling her hips, she said throatily, a pout forming on her lips, “Aren’t you supposed to ask me something, Yusef?”

Yusef smiled, simply stating, “Choose.”

Olena grinned at him as if she hadn’t a care in the world, but it was an emotion she couldn’t feel in her trembling heart. The heat of his body spread into her limbs. The impression of his skin drove her to distraction. None of these things mattered. Once Olena chose a course of action she did not back down. That was what made her so good at her trade. That was what made her one of the most sought after thieves in galactic history.

“Well, if you insist,” she purred. Threading her fingers into his soft black hair, she wound the locks around her fingers. His bronzed skin clashed with the white of her hands. Without untying the straps, she took much more time than necessary to work the mask off his head.

When she saw his face for the first time, all well-thought-out plans momentarily fled her. He was handsome, breathtakingly so. He stared at her with the most gorgeously shaped eyes she had ever seen—and she had seen a lot. His dark gray gaze shifted before her, flashing with yellow.

Now, that was something she hadn’t seen for a while. This man was a shifter.

The thought brought her up short and she knew she had to be very careful. Shifters could be exceedingly dangerous, depending on what they shifted into. It was a genetic defense, so it wasn’t like he’d turn into a cute and fuzzy bunny. No, they usually shifted into strong, warrior beasts.

“Why don’t you put me down,” she murmured, impishly throwing the mask behind her, “so I can unwrap my prize?”

He didn’t readily respond. She was careful not to give anything away with her expression. Fear tried to work its way through her and her heart quickened.

Yusef lowered her to the ground, letting her feel the entire length of his heated body, including the stiff arousal pressing from beneath the loincloth. She held her breath. Her eyes widened as the erection hit dangerously close to her lower stomach. Her nipples ached, reaching for him like little traitors. She was not supposed to desire him. The idea was to get him to desire her. Once she had him frustrated with need, he would be putty in her hands and give her anything she wanted for just a chance of fulfillment—a fulfillment that would never come.

To her dismay, as he let her go, her knees weakened and she stumbled. His arrogant grin was not lost on her. She tightened a fist, automatically wanting to wipe the insolent look off his face. However, when she saw his eyes narrow in warning, she held back and smiled instead.

“Well?” she questioned, gesturing at him. “Let’s see.”

“I thought you wished to unwrap your prize.” His voice dripped over her body like warm syrup. His Qurilixian accent rolled softly from firm lips. Olena fought for control of her stirring desires. Those lips moved in such a way that she knew he would be able to shower her with toe-curling kisses—just looking at them made her skin tingle and her heart race.

Olena took a step forward, forcing her legs to be still. Tilting her head, she licked her lips and looked him over. She lifted her hands to his chest and drifted down the hard length of him to the fur waistband of his loincloth. When her fingers reached his stomach, his muscles tightened. He grabbed her wrists.

“What?” Olena pouted, before teasing, “Embarrassed? I’m sure it’s fine, supernova.”

“Use your mouth,” he commanded, not taking the bait.

Olena was stunned, but she hoped she didn’t show it. Swallowing, she let him bend her forward so that her face was close to his waist. She widened her stance and pushed out her backside. He held her hands out to the side, so she couldn’t cheat.

Yusef groaned, as Olena swayed her hips beyond his reach. Lightly, she kissed his abdomen and dragged her tongue over his stiffening stomach. She worked her mouth over the fur, not liking the way the strands stuck to her lips. Taking hold with her teeth, she jerked her head back. When she stood before him, loincloth hanging from mouth, hair wildly tousled about her back and shoulders, she impishly winked at him.

Unable to stem her curiosity, she peered down. Her eyes widened before she could hide her surprise. Now that was something she hadn’t seen before. It would seem this barbarian toted a large warrior all his own.

Yusef stepped to her, spreading her arms wider as his hands remained shackled around her wrists. The material straps at her waist ripped free with the movement. Olena shivered at the sheer power of him. With a quick strike, he grabbed the end of the fur with his own lips and took it from her mouth only to growl, jerking it like a wild dog before tossing it to the side.

Before she knew what was happening, he kissed her. It was a blistering caress that stole her breath and stopped her heart in her chest. It was a kiss full of passion and unleashed desire. Here was a man who knew what he wanted and went for it without thought. Before she knew what she was doing, Olena was kissing him back.

Olena moaned. She had been kissed before, but never like this—never like she was the last woman in the galaxy. With her arms out to the side, she couldn’t fight him off. To her shame she realized, if not for his hold on her arms, she wouldn’t have been fighting him, but encouraging him.

Angry more at her loss of control than at him, she bit him—hard. Yusef jerked back, his lip bleeding. He blinked, stunned. She licked her swollen lips, tasting his blood on them. She narrowed her gaze, silently daring him to punish her for it.

Yusef touched his injured lip and arched a brow.

“You didn’t say please,” Olena explained.

“Please,” he growled under his breath, his gaze dancing with heat. Stepping forward again, he resumed the kiss where they had left off. Only this time he bit back. Olena gasped, her leg lifting to kick him in reflex. He dropped her arms, only to wrap her in his forced embrace. Her leg missed its target, moving instead to intimately rub the side of his naked hip.

“Let me go,” Olena demanded against his mouth, struggling as she tasted their intermingled blood on her lips, not knowing how much of it was hers and how much was his.

“Please,” he whispered, leaning over to lick her wound. Nudging her lightly with his jaw, he said again, “Please.”

Olena couldn’t refuse the rolling sound of his seductive words. The crystal pulsed between them, but this time she ignored her suspicions as he once more claimed her. Her blood simmered, and the sensation of passion pooled between her hips to create a feeling of desperation and longing.

His kiss was gentle, probing and soothing. She melted into his arms, forgetting the battle as he called her unwillingly to a truce. She couldn’t think against his onslaught of tenderness. She wanted him, like she had never wanted anything. The fog, that had tried to invade her thoughts all night, had crept into her brain during that kiss and now held her in its mist—unwilling to let her think, only feel what its master wanted her to.

Yusef knew he was pushing her, waiting for the eruption that appeared to be simmering under her fiery surface. Maybe it was her flaming red hair, or perhaps it was the way she seemed so sure she was in control of the situation. Whatever the reason, he wanted to push her, and keep pushing her until she ignited into a passionate explosion. If he boiled this little vixen’s blood, he knew the rewards would be great.

He felt her weakening in his arms. Pulling back from the kiss, he looked into her passion-hazed eyes. She wanted him, nearly as badly as he wanted to possess her.

“Now,” he breathed hotly against her lips. “Let me see what I have won.”

She shivered, as if too stunned by the feel of his lips to move. He caressed her cheek and neck. He trailed his hands over her gown, her flesh burning him through the silk as if the material didn’t exist. He flexed his fingers, letting his palms do most of the touching. They moved down her hips, over her waist only to come up, cupping naturally around her smaller breasts. The soft globes fit beautifully into his hands and he touched them as if they already belonged to him.

His bride gasped. Yusef kept his eyes locked to hers. He ran his finger up her delicate neck, so fragile he could have strangled the life from her with little effort. But he would never cause her pain. Well, except for the bittersweet agony building inside their bodies.

Taking the dress, Yusef tore it. The material ripped loudly, causing her to jump in surprise. He tossed the gown aside. Her nipples puckered as the warm air of the tent hit the naked flesh. The buds beckoned him, tempted him.

Yusef stepped back, boldly taking her in. Her skin was white and flawless. She looked so pure compared to his tanned flesh. Undergarments hugged her hips, taunting him with their lacy barrier. Oh, how he’d like to bite them from her as she had done to his loincloth. Freckles dotted her shoulders, like light and airy kisses. He promised his mouth he would kiss each and every one of them in time.

Her body was well-built, muscular and strong, but still gentle and soft—just like her playful eyes. There was a quiet innocence to her gaze, but with their growing physical connection Yusef felt deeper inside her emotions than mere appearances allowed. He knew the looks she gave him weren’t all true, and yet it wasn’t all an act.

By the calluses on her hands, though they did not appear rough, he could tell she worked hard. Already he concluded this woman knew how to use a gun. He felt the bump on her trigger finger as if she’d fired one often.

She lifted her hair off her back and gave it a small shake. His eyes instantly went to the shower of red waves. Yusef swallowed, already tortured by what was to come. Still, he couldn’t think to stop it.

Questions swam in his mind. He wanted to know who she was, why she came to his planet. He understood it was partly their combined fate that brought her to Qurilixen, but he wanted to know her other reasons. Was she hiding from something? Was she looking for something? There was more to her, and he instinctively knew he wouldn’t discover the answers easily.

Olena dropped her arms as she watched him devour her with his eyes. It made her hot to see his desire for her, unfiltered in its brazen intent. A wave of guilt overcame her, for she knew she would never succumb to him. She would use him and then leave him behind just as soon as she had a chance. He was a means to an end—and her end was escape from this exile of a planet.

Thinking of that goal, she blinked away the crystal fog, fighting it. It was clear her feelings had something to do with the stone around his neck, as well as the wine they had given her to drink. It had taken her a moment to place it, but she had tasted something akin to that unique blend of herbs before. Psychiatrists liked to use them because they opened the mind and loosened the tongue, a practice that was illegal in many quadrants. Narrowing her eyes, she stiffened her resolve. This man had tried to drug her, tried to take away her will.

Her eyes shone brightly with an innocence she did not feel. “Like what you see?”

His response was a bestial growl. He didn’t look away.

Taking a finger to her lips, she felt the drying blood on them. The straps still wound up her arms and she left them there. She kicked off her shoes. Sucking her finger, her eyes growing wide, she turned to pose shyly for him.

Her eyes fell on the tub. It had been a long time since she had a water bath. The Galaxy Brides’ ship had a decontamination unit, which basically sucked the germs and oil off your skin in a swift puff of air and sweep of lasers.

Olena blinked as she murmured in her most sultry of tones, “I think I got myself dirty, Yusef. Maybe you should clean me up.”

Maybe you should clean me up.

Yusef couldn’t help the fever that ignited in his body at the request. He knew he was going to regret it. His warrior instincts told him to be careful, that this woman was cunning, that she was going to be trouble.

Her lush, full lips called to him. They pursed when she talked, begging to be touched. He saw the swollen cut where his teeth had bitten her and he felt the matching sore on his own lip.

The firefly pin atop her locks glistened when she moved. The little black gemstones sparkled like stars, winking mischievously at him. Reaching for her, he glided a hand down her cheek, cupping her jaw. Not heeding his own instincts, he let his lust do the thinking as he obeyed the naked vixen staring at him.

Chapter 5

Olena froze, not allowing the shiver that tried to overtake her at Yusef’s gentle caress. Slowly, he drew his hand over her shoulder and down her arm. Taking up the tattered ends of the winding straps on her wrists, he backed up, leading her to the steaming tub.

Olena let him look at her, unashamed of her body. It was just bio-material. She wasn’t a fool. In the end, he would want the same thing all men did—her complete submission. She would never do it. She’d been a man’s slave once. Once was enough.

Yusef was unaware of her turmoil and she liked it that way. When he looked at her, she gave him a beautifully dazzling smile. Bringing her forward, he tried to kiss her.

Olena moved past him, impishly denying his offered mouth. She shrugged out of her panties and got into the bath. Standing naked before him, she waited.

Yusef did not have to be commanded. He stepped into the large basin joining her. Slowly they sank into the warm water. Their backs to opposite sides, they faced each other with her legs resting to his side. Olena closed her eyes, momentarily content to enjoy the water.

Soon, his fingers were on her feet, lifting them to his chest so he could lather them with soap. His soft touch took her in for a moment, entranced her mind with the pleasure of it. He let his hands roam, gliding up her calf. When he touched the intimate curve of her knee, she stiffened, ticklish.

Opening her eyes, she moved to bathe him as he did her. When she lathered his feet, she found herself working up to his hair-roughened thighs. The soap slid erotically on their skin, and felt delightful. Their touches stayed on task, heating and building fires wherever they journeyed. From the thighs they discovered hips, from the delectable hips they discovered stomachs, and from flat stomachs they found chests.

Yusef took his time, teasing her breasts, learning their feel, testing their response. By his open expression he was not disappointed. As he ran his thumb over a sensitive nub, her body jerked in pleasure.

Soon they were kneeling in the warm water. Her hands moved in circles over Yusef’s shoulders. His mouth was inches away from hers, parted, ready to kiss her but holding back. He worked his large hands over her back, massaging her closer to his chest.

The raven strands of his hair were on his shoulders. The dark tips wet. The texture of his flesh mesmerized her. It was hypnotic to her fingers. She couldn’t stop touching him. The smell of him, of the soap, drove into her senses.

It was insanity. She knew it. Being with him would go against every code she lived by. It would ruin the balance of her life. But she could no more stop herself than she could stop the march of time or change the will of the seasons. He was desert heat to her arctic cold. They would never survive together, yet here they were—touching, feeling, stroking, burning.

His tenderness cracked the ice block that had settled over her heart years ago. She couldn’t fight this kind of passion. He didn’t demand anything from her, only gave. How could she refuse such a gift? No one had ever treated her like she was delicate, like she was a real woman.

Desire overwhelmed her, scaring her.

Olena didn’t know if it was the man, the wine in her veins, or the crystal glowing brighter with each passing moment, that was driving her onward. All she knew was that her body would never be the same. As her desire had begun to respond naturally to his, she forgot her plans, forgot they shouldn’t be doing this. She forgot to hate him.

Slowly, she leaned forward, her arms winding slowly around him as she kissed him.

Yusef held her, enjoying himself as he let her make the first move. Her lips were open and sweet, pouring a tender vulnerability over him. Her body pressed more firmly against him as he leaned back in the tub to support her weight. Her legs adjusted over his waist, careful to keep him from touching her with his arousal.

The mischief faded from her emerald eyes and he saw the raw agony of pain staring at him. In that moment, a veil was lifted, baring her soul to him. He detected her longing for him, but also the deeply buried fear. Her eyes moistened with tears as she looked deep into his gray eyes. Whatever it was that she had planned by luring him to the bath, she was not following through with it.

He growled into her opened mouth. Her lips quickened to a fevered pace as she moaned into his. He found her hips, naturally urging her body closer, seeking to tame the ache she had created. He paused in their kiss, opening his mouth as she slid next to his arousal. The water caressed them, burning hotter near his erection.

Suddenly, he pulled back. If they finished this mad tirade, the council would sense it on them. If he broke the law, his marriage would be disapproved and he would be forced to live the rest of his very long life alone. Not until she publicly declared she wanted him by breaking his crystal, could he claim her.

His sweet bride, too impassioned with the new feelings to stop, went forward to nuzzle his neck. His pulse jumped beneath her kisses.

“No,” he commanded. “Stop.”

She didn’t obey.

“We can’t do this,” he said, feeling like a fool as the words came out. He wanted to caress her, but he denied his hands the pleasure. Her lips slid along his jaw to his mouth. Her wide emerald eyes stared into his gray ones.

“Why not?” she persisted. “Who would ever know?”

“I would know,” he answered with pride. “The council will know.”

She shrugged, moving to kiss him again.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, her eyes alighting with the mischievous shield to block him out. “Now.”

“Say please,” he teased.

Her eyes hardened. All vulnerability was gone when she looked at him. Her smile pulled dangerously to the side. A lovely pout on her features, his bride leaned forward.

Yusef watched her, thinking she was perhaps one of the most beautiful creatures in the world. Soapsuds clung to her breasts, drawing his eyes. He would never know how he had the willpower to stop her advances. Her naked arms stretched above her head. Sometime during their play the wristbands had fallen off into the water. Yusef swallowed as her cream-colored breasts shifted with the movement of her arms.

She reached for her hair and pulled the firefly pin from her locks. With a shake, the silky waves spread over her shoulders like trails of fire. Her sultry gaze looked deep into his. His breath caught. He knew the battle was now hers. He wouldn’t be refusing her again. Leaning forward, she brushed a kiss to his lips.

“Please…?” She pulled back with a pout.

Yusef stiffened, feeling a poke in his neck. He lifted his arms to grab her. Instead, his vision blurred and his hands dropped into the water with a big splash. He couldn’t move. Even as he was passing out he managed a light curse, his dark eyes glaring hotly. As his vision faded around the treacherously lovely being standing over him, he saw her smile waver into a hard look.

She waved at him, insolently wiggling her fingers, as she said darkly, “I just don’t say please, husband.”

Olena watched Yusef’s eyes close. The firefly pin stuck in his neck where she’d jabbed the tip into him. With a push of the firefly’s wings, she’d injected a sleeping agent into his bloodstream. One so strong it could easily put an Egrat mammoth out.

“Stop?” She eyed him in disbelief. “Nobody tells me when to stop!”

Her body had been roused to such a pitch that she didn’t care about the council or this man’s sudden discovery of honor. Just a moment ago, when he was trying to nestle his erection closer to her inner thighs, where had his sense of honor and his fear of the council been? A wave of bitterness crashed inside her, caving in her heart. She was a fool.

This man was good, she’d give him that. He’d turned her own con back on her and, like a dupe, she’d fallen for it. He’d made her admit to wanting him only to deny her.

Olena pulled the pin from his neck. The wound dotted with blood but did not drip. He would be out for the rest of the night. Standing, she did not smile as she slipped the pin back into her hair.

When she finished pinning up her locks, she looked down at Yusef, staring at his naked body for a long time. He was incredible. His touch was fire, and her body sung with what he’d done to her. She would have to be careful. This barbarian had almost tricked her into forgetting herself.

Not bothering to dress, and knowing he would be out until morning, she leaned over to haul his arms over the side of the bath, making sure he wouldn’t drown. It wouldn’t do to add his murder to her long list of crimes. He was too heavy to move much further, so she just left him there.

Striding across the fur-covered ground, Olena didn’t bother to dry her wet body. She dripped a long trail as she went to the table laden with food. She grabbed the earthen jug in the middle and took a long pull off to try and calm her nerves. Emptying half the contents, she set it down with a gasp for air. Then, seeing a knife left on a tray of sliced fruit, she picked it up.

She glanced at Yusef. Crossing over to him, her face hard, her heart harder, she clutched the knife in her steady hand. As she reached the bathtub, she stopped directly above him. Her fist turned white around the blade as she studied his chest lifting with shallow breaths of sleep.

“You almost bested me,” she said softly, pointing the knife at him, ire pouring from her expression as she glared at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Never again.”

Olena turned the knife in her hand and held it steady. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and drew the blade through her upper arm with a stiff jerk. A whimper left her lips at the pain and she instantly dropped the blade to the ground. Blood ran crimson trails down her arm. She fell to the floor, clutching the injured appendage and refusing to cry out.

For a moment she just rocked, naked and frozen on the ground, waiting for the worst of the initial pain to pass. As the discomfort of her self-infliction started to dull, she grabbed a nearby bath linen and wound it around the cut to stop the bleeding.

Staring at her husband, she nodded at the prone man and declared, “To the Pirate’s Code, Yusef. You won’t best me again.”

Chapter 6

After cleaning up her mess of an arm and washing the knife, Olena spent the entire night dozing on the bed. Occasionally a loud, passionate cry from a nearby tent would jolt her awake. Sleep never claimed her completely as she watched Yusef’s chest rising and falling in the torchlight. The ache he stirred in her gave way after about an hour to leave a pain much worse than the one in her injured arm.

Yusef didn’t move. Olena knew he was going to be sore when he woke up from being in the same awkward position all night—not to mention livid. She couldn’t really blame him. She’d be livid too if he had done it to her.

As dawn crept into the tent, the torches had all but burnt out. Olena had memorized every line of his face and shoulders. The more she looked, the more handsome she thought him. It didn’t matter. The throbbing in her arm served to remind her that she couldn’t let him affect her.

Hearing a shuffle outside the tent flap, Olena yawned, pushing her tired body out of bed. Taking the fur coverlet, she pulled it around her shoulders and stumbled to see who was there. As she moved the flap aside, the waiting manservant seemed surprised to see a half-naked woman answering him. Blinking, he tried to see over her shoulder.

“He’s taking a bath.” Olena smiled for the man, letting a blush she didn’t feel fall over her features. The lie came a little too easily, as she continued, “He should be along in a moment.”

“Very good, my lady,” the servant said. His kind brown eyes drew down, politely refusing to stare at the married woman. He was dressed in a simple tunic and brown breeches, his hair pulled back from his face. Lifting his hands laden with garments, he said, “Your clothes, my lady. The council bid me to tell you they are ready to see you as soon as you are dressed.”

“Me?” Olena asked, surprised. How could they have known what she did? Were these shifters telepathic too? That hadn’t occurred to her.

“Yes, my lady,” the servant said. “You and his lordship.”

“Lordship?” Olena asked, looking over her shoulder.

A lord, eh? she thought.

She took the black clothing from the man the best she could in her coverlet attire. “Yes, yes, I’ll be sure to tell his…ah…lordship to hurry.”

“Very good, my lady. I will—” the servant answered. The tent flap fell in his face before he’d finished.

Olena turned, looking at her husband with renewed eyes. What exactly had she stumbled into? So Yusef was a lord, was he? That meant he would have money and men with money usually had things—things like spacecrafts and jewels and other valuables that could fetch a good price on the Torgan black market.

If her crew still looked for her, as she knew they did, then they would be much happier to greet her if she were laden with gifts. It would be a nice gesture to thank them for their loyalty. Maybe she could afford to take them to Quazer for a well-deserved vacation. Maybe she could even get the slave brands removed from their backsides as well. She smiled, thinking of her now smoothed ass.

Setting the clothes on the bed, she dug through the pile with one hand. Her injured arm still pained her when she moved it. On top was a black tunic jacket, too big for her to wear. It was made from a soft cotton-like material with simple edging. A silver dragon clasp held the jacket together in the front. It paired an under tunic and tight pants, which were also severely black in color. On the jacket’s chest was the emblem of a dragon embroidered in silver.

Olena grimaced, as she came to her clothing. “Ugh, another dress.”

Her gown was of a matching shade. Before putting it on, she carefully peeled the bandage from her wound. The cut was angry and red but, for the sake of her honor, she wasn’t allowed to do anything about it for three days. Only then could she disinfect it and help it to heal. Ripping her wedding dress, she tore the black silk into strips and tied up her arm.

The tunic gown hugged tightly to her waist, dipping low at the chest in a very elegant way. Silver overlay fit at the shoulders and bodice, moving to trail over the back portion of the flared skirt. She too had the dragon on her chest, a smaller version than on Yusef’s tunic jacket. The sleeves swung wide from her elbows to the floor, leaving her forearms exposed. She was glad her cut was high enough to be hidden from view by the sleeves.

Slipping into the boots that had been delivered with them, she sighed in comfort. If she never saw a pair of slippers again, it would be too soon. Everything fit perfectly, but she took little time to wonder about it.

She combed her fingers through her hair, pinning the bulk of it into a serviceable knot at the back of her head. It was slow going with one arm injured, but she did manage to tie it back. Then, as she was placing the firefly into the top of the coiffure, she heard a low growl.

Olena froze in sudden fear. She dropped her hand to her side. That was not the sound of a man.

Spinning just in time to see a flash of brown skin, Olena gasped in fright. Yusef had awakened in a dragon-like mood. Well, dragon-like wasn’t necessarily true. He was literally a human dragon. She had suspected he was a shifter, but she wasn’t ready to see it firsthand.

Golden eyes of fire stared at her as taloned fingers gripped her arms. She cried out in pain as he pressed into her cut. His beautiful black hair was the same, but his forehead had pulled forward, bringing a low ridge down from his hairline to his nose. His breath came out in ragged draws, rumbling with a growl in the back of his throat. His flesh had turned as hard as armor and would be near impossible to pierce with a knife blade. Still, she wished she had a knife. She would have liked to try it.

“Ah,” Olena gasped as he squeezed harder.

Olena clenched her eyes shut, trying not to cry out as he hurt her, refusing to show weakness. His breath hit against her skin. His show of power excited her, even as it frightened her.

Yusef stared at his wife as if looking through a tunnel. He focused on her worried face and smelled her fear. It didn’t stop his dragon reflexes. He breathed hard, primal instinct telling him to fight. He did his best not to rip her head off for attacking him. The soft flesh of her arm barely penetrated the fog and he squeezed harder, as if in doing so, he’d find reality through his numbed nerve-endings. Her heart raced, the pounding caught up in his sensitive ears and it was difficult for him to hear past it.

Then, catching the scent of blood, he leaned forward to sniff at her neck. He followed the scent of blood, moving down her arm. Discovering that the source was beneath his hands, he let go as if stung. The tunnel began to widen and he fought for control over the beast inside him, thinking he might have gouged her with his talon. The very idea that he’d hurt her was enough to shock his system. Instantly he shifted back to his human form and took a step away from her. He looked at his hand, seeing blood smeared on his palm.

His bride inhaled deeply and opened her eyes. He expected her to scream, or run, and was unsure what he’d do if she did. Could he really blame her?

Yusef glanced at the bath he’d woken up in, and then back to stare at her arm. Frowning, he demanded hotly, “Why?”

Her composure didn’t waver in light of his outraged voice. “You drug me. I drug you. We’re even. Fair is fair.”

“What?” Yusef forced his eyes away from her before he shifted again and ripped the delicate throat from her neck. The dragon was still in fighting mode. His arms ached from his awkward night in the bath, but he wouldn’t give her the pleasure of seeing him stretch the muscles. “I never—”

“Don’t lie,” she warned. “I know exactly what was in that drink. A little Maiden’s Breath mixed with just a dash of Last Ember’s root. It makes the victim nice and malleable. Too bad for you, I know what it does and can resist the effects.”

“It’s a traditional drink,” Yusef defended, “not a drug.”

“Nice tradition, dragon. Why don’t you just skip the drugging and get straight to the rape?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but his mood darkened. It would have been better if she’d stabbed him. At a loss for words, he didn’t know how to respond to the accusation.

“Listen, we’re even,” she said. “You don’t try to drug me and I won’t drug you, deal?”

“We do not rape,” Yusef growled, deeply insulted by the insinuation. “The crystal chooses the pairing. With the crystal, the wine makes the mind open. That is why it’s against the law to come together this night. The woman’s will must be left free, so that she may choose freely. The wine helps to connect, to start the foundation of a good life. It helps to…”

Yusef stopped. He didn’t want to tell her it opened a portal between their minds so that someday they would be able to read each other’s thoughts and feelings. Already he could feel the initial stirring of her emotions, though they were too tumultuous to get a good reading on them.

She arched a brow. “Pray, please continue with this lovely lesson on dominant male logic.”

“You’re bleeding,” Yusef stated, afraid of what he had done to her in his confusion upon waking.

“It’s nothing.” She turned her attention to the bed. “Listen, it looks as if we are going to be spending countless hours together, so do you mind if we cut this pleasant little get to know you session until later? I didn’t sleep too well and I have a wicked migraine. Besides, a servant came by and said to tell you that the council is ready to see us as soon as we are dressed.”

She motioned to where his clothes were neatly folded in a pile. Yusef realized he stood before her completely naked. He began to feel a chill. She kept her gaze averted while he donned his clothing. Yusef would have laughed by the show of modesty after having witnessed her little performance last night, but he felt too drained at the moment.

Looking at his chest, he saw his crystal still glowed. Perhaps that is why she did not react to bleeding. She might not be able to feel pain this morning, unless it was like she said, and she was immune to the drink. Come to think of it, it might be her headache he was starting to detect inside his brain. It would make sense if he could feel inside her.

This damn thing might be broken, he mused, again eyeing the crystal.

But when he looked at the red-haired vixen keeping her back to him, he saw her tremble. He felt their connection as strongly as the first moment he’d seen her. She was his life mate. She was his perfect match.

Damn perfection anyway.

Olena listened to the man behind her as he dressed. A trickle of blood made the slow journey down the back of her arm. The pain brought her comfort and normalcy. She gradually turned her hand so he couldn’t see it. It was easier to handle his anger than his tenderness. Her arm throbbed and she wanted nothing more than to grab it. She refrained.

Yusef sighed. “I smell blood. Let me see your injury.”

“No.” She flicked absently at the dragon on her chest. “I’m fine.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” she said, growing uncomfortable.

“Are you frightened?” Yusef asked.

“Of what? Of you?”

Sure she was scared of him. She was scared of what he’d made her feel the previous night in his arms. She was scared that even the wound she’d given herself wouldn’t be enough of a reminder for her to fight him—to not fall for his handsome face and fierce dragon eyes.

“Of me, yes,” He came up behind her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Olena flinched but did not back away. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his serious expression. His hair fell forward over his shoulders, framing his face. As she turned to look fully at him, he drew his hand over her back, resting it on the opposite shoulder.

“You mean because you’re a shifter?” She gave a light, unconcerned shrug.

“Yes, because of that.”

“Did you really think I couldn’t figure out you were a dragon-shifter?” She eyed him. “You’re all dragons, right?”

“The Var to the south are cat-shifters,” he said. “But, yes, the Draig are dragon-shifters. This doesn’t frighten you?”

Olena wanted to laugh but didn’t. Lufa, a member of her crew, was a walking amphibian and left a slime trail whenever he was near her. MoPa was a hairy yeti from the Bogylands. Hedge had prickles on his head instead of hair. In a pinch, he made for a damned fine needle. No, she wasn’t scared of a little shifting.

“No,” she said truthfully. The ache in her chest replaced the ache in her arm. She really did miss her crew. They were the only family she’d ever known. Olena pulled away from him when he tried to pull her into his arms. “I have no fear of alien cultures. So what if you are a shifter?”

“But, the other brides…” Yusef tensed.

“I won’t say anything. I don’t want to be the one to catch them when they faint.” Olena forced the smiling mask over her face. “Let their husbands deal with them.”

“But they are your friends.”

Friends? Olena thought in surprise. She’d never had a female friend before. No, a friend was someone who had your back. Those girls on the ship would turn their backs as soon as they found out what she was.

“No,” she said, with a calmness that made him pause. She closed herself off to him, not letting him see any trace of her emotions. “I just traveled with them. I didn’t have any friends on that ship.”

Sighing, Yusef pulled on his boots and held out his elbow for her to take. “Shall we?”

“Sure, why not,” she mumbled, not really thinking about where they were going or what they were about to do. None of it mattered anyway.

“By the way,” he said as he led her out of the tent. “Do I have your promise that you will never drug me again?”

“Sure, why not,” Olena repeated. But, this time, she flashed him a bright, impish smile. Her eyes shone with disobedience. “So long as you don’t deserve it.”

Chapter 7

Olena stood before the council leaders, bowing her head regally to the king and queen seated in the center of the ranks. They nodded back, their crowned heads tilting forward. They smiled graciously at Yusef and his bride. The royal couple was dressed in matching purple tunics. Looking over at Yusef’s black outfit and then hers, Olena frowned. They weren’t going to have to dress alike every day, were they?

The bonfire in the main yard had burned low sometime during the night. Olena noticed no one looked the worse for wear, expect for one beefy warrior on the sideline with two black eyes. Seeing he had her attention, he smiled jovially and nodded his head. Olena insolently winked back.

“Queen Mede, King Llyr, may I present Lady…” Yusef’s voice trailed off. With a sheepish grin, he turned to his wife.

Olena absently rubbed her arm and flinched as she came too close to the wound. She was glad Yusef had stopped asking about it. It was not something she could explain without first telling him she was a pirate.

Yusef put his hand over hers and leaned to whisper, “You know I never got your name.”

Unable to stop herself, she smirked. “I know.”

“What is your name?” Yusef asked, insistent.

The king and queen shared a look. Olena smiled at them and the queen hesitantly returned the look.

“You should have thought about that earlier, dragon,” Olena said mischievously. Someone from the crowd began to chuckle.

Straightening, Yusef announced, “My lady wife.”

The queen tried to hide her amusement behind her hand. The king pressed his lips and nodded. Olena tried not to laugh.

“Beware, wife, you’ve had your fun, but I’ll discover your name.” Yusef’s voice held much promise in it. “Now crush my crystal and be done with it.”

Olena’s suppressed laughter died at his words. Her smile wavered slightly. Lifting one hand, she took the crystal from his neck and dropped it on the ground. With a hard whack, she crushed it beneath her boot. The gathered crowd cheered.

Through a haze, she heard the queen speak, as if in slow motion, “Welcome to the family of Draig, my lady. I hope you will enjoy your new home.”

The gentle fog that had remained over her, lifted. Her eyes became clear and the pain in her arm intensified tenfold. She blinked, feeling the blood run out of her features. It was as if some protective shield had broken and she was again human.

“Yusef.” The queen rose to her feet. She pointed at Olena. The proud smile faded from his face. “Grab her. She’s bleeding.”

A commotion started and a councilman called for a medic.

Olena blinked, not understanding what was going on, not understanding the queen’s frantic words as she pointed in her direction. Numbly she looked down at her arm. Her hand was covered in blood. Her ears rung, deafening her with the rush in her brain. She saw Yusef reaching for her as she fell. It was like watching a dream. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She was out.

Yusef gathered his wife into his arms, catching her against his chest as he lowered her to the platform. Her blood covered her arm. He ripped her sleeve open, revealing the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around her upper arm.

The king ordered the onlookers back and the crowd parted to let a medic through. Yusef unwound the bandage as Tal ran up the stairs. The man dropped his kit beside her and pushed the prince back.

“Yusef,” his mother asked in shock. “Y-you…? Never mind, I know you couldn’t have, but how could you not see this?”

“What happened?” the medic asked.

“I’m not sure,” Yusef answered very quietly, conscious of the dragon-shifter ears listening around them. “I did not see.”

The king looked at him, revealing with his gaze that he expected a full report later. Yusef nodded. He had nothing to hide from his parents.

The medic grabbed a hand laser and seared the wound shut, burning the flesh together in a thin thread. Her emerald eyes popped open. Yusef grabbed her hand. She squeezed him tightly.

“Stop,” she demanded.

“No, it’s all right. He’s fixing it for you,” Yusef said.

“No,” she said, growing more insistent. The medic was almost done. Turning her gaze to Tal, she startled him by mumbling, “Don’t take the scar.”

Yusef shared a look with the medic. Slowly, he nodded, assenting to his wife’s request. She closed her eyes and passed out again. The medic pulled back. The wound looked angry but it no longer bled.

Quietly, the medic took a reading of her blood before giving Yusef instructions and some medicine from his kit. There was nothing else he could do, except lessen the scar later if she changed her mind. The medic then announced to the crowd that the new princess was going to be fine. The crowd cheered happily with the news

Yusef picked up his new wife and cradled her in his arms. Then, bowing his head to his parents and to the council, he carried her off to his home.

The queen watched her son leave. Turning to her husband, she whispered, “What is going on? Last night was so promising. Our sons, our nephews…” She let her words trail off, conscious of where they were. Instead, directing her thoughts at her husband so he could hear them in his head, she continued, “That is two of our sons with troubled marriages. And our nephews are—”

“I’ll speak to Yusef and Olek,” the king interrupted her panicked thoughts. “They are dependable men and will have it all in hand. Do not worry, my love, they are all strong, good men. They are finishing their wedding ceremonies. That is what matters today. I’m sure they’ll settle right into marriage without issue.” King Llyr moved to take his seat.

“You’re probably right. Let us hope the others have an easier time.” Queen Mede joined him as they awaited the arrival of the next newlyweds.

Chapter 8

Olena curled into a little ball, feeling like she was five years old again. Her body burned as if she had been set on fire. The man in the dirty black coat was coming for her. His old, leathery hand shook as he wielded an injection needle. She was like an animal, so small, so scared, kept in a cage she couldn’t stand up in, as they drugged her to sleep…to sleep…

Olena’s eyes opened in horror, wild and dazed as she thrashed around on a bed. A hand came for her and she screamed. But the past was not through with her, as she drifted back into her black torment of dreams.

She was in a ship, her spaceship. Her crew was gone and she was crashing onto an unknown planet. Her heart pounded in fear, fear she never admitted to herself. She was alone. She was sure she was going to die alone, but she didn’t die. She crawled out of the wreckage, shooting her way out, as the path was blocked, and then she was running and wasn’t going to stop.

“Easy, now, wake up.”

Olena blinked, confused as she stared at him. Hoarsely, she insisted, “My ship.”

Her ship was gone. Everything was gone. She had nothing left but herself. What if her crew didn’t come? What if she was trapped in the tiny box forever with only glimpses of a dirty man with leathery hands? To sleep…to sleep…

“To sleep,” his bride whispered.

“Shh.” Yusef studied her face carefully. He’d gone back to the tent, sniffing out her blood by the tub. It hadn’t been hard to conclude she’d inflicted the injury on herself with the knife from the fruit tray. He could also smell traces of her on the blade, though she had washed it. The only question was why? Pushing back her hair, he murmured, “The medic says he found tantren fruit in your bloodstream. The knife was used to cut it before you used it. You’re allergic to tantren and that’s why you feel so ill.”

His bride’s infected arm was an angry red and her pale skin even whiter. Hair spilled out around her over the pillow in flaming waves. He’d dressed her in one of the nightgowns from her bags. It looked frumpy on her, with wide ruffles and lace on flannel. She nearly swam in it, but it was the only nightgown he could find.

Frowning, he glanced at her bags. He’d also found a gun, an expensive one that could be slipped past most security points. Next to the weapon, he’d discovered a wad of intergalactic cash and a packet full of different ID’s—all with her picture, and all from different planets and sectors. Who exactly had he married? Margaret Meriwether? Torch Fontaine? Olena Leyton? Sage Miller? There were about twenty different names to choose from.

As her eyes opened and looked at him, she rose up on the bed. Painfully, she clutched his arm, and said, “My ship has crashed. I need a new one fast. They’re coming.”

Yusef frowned. It was clear she hadn’t heard him and was still in the throes of her nightmare. The medic had warned him she might have an adverse reaction. Thankfully they’d crushed the crystal when they did. It had been numbing her to the worst of the pain, and if she’d stayed under its spell she’d have died before any of them realized what had happened.

“Here, take some medicine,” he offered, getting up from his bed to get her some water. “It will help you to sleep.”

“Don’t,” Olena growled. “No painkillers, it’s against the code. No killing the pain for three days. Let it bleed.”

Yusef frowned. What code? What was she talking about?

He went to her, lifting up her head to force the medicine back. Her round emerald eyes looked at him and she stubbornly pressed her lips together and shook her head in denial.

“You won’t best me. Let it bleed,” she said, growling with the insistence of her words.

“It will help,” Yusef said soothingly. He kept the worry from his voice. Never in a hundred years would he have imagined his first day of marriage would turn out like this. He tried to force the pills into her mouth, but she stubbornly refused, biting at his finger when he would pry her teeth apart.

Standing, he went to the wall and talked quietly into the intercom. His home was directly linked to the mountain palace. Within minutes the medic was there. Yusef ordered him to inject her with the medicine.

The medic obeyed. His wife saw the needle and panicked, trying to scurry across the bed. Yusef caught her and held her down. Soon it was over and she was limp in his arms.

“Don’t look so worried,” Tal said, standing. He moved to help adjust her on the bed. “She’ll heal up just fine. Once this medicine kicks in, she’ll be good as new. It will kill the bacteria in her blood stream. Just make sure she never eats a tantren. It could kill her if she doesn’t get help immediately.”

“Thank you,” Yusef said, leading the man out. When he came back carrying a bowl of hot water, she hadn’t moved. He sat on a chair next to her and cleaned the dried blood from her arm.

“Torch?” he asked, thinking her hair indeed deserved such a fiery name.

She didn’t move.

He tried a few more before saying, “Olena? Margaret?”

She answered to none of them.

“Sage, can you hear me?”

She mumbled in her sleep, but didn’t speak. Yusef looked at her ravishing face, thinking how beautiful she was and how fragile she seemed at the moment.

Sage, he thought. My wife’s name just might be Sage.

Chapter 9

It was a long first day of marriage for Yusef, watching over his delirious wife. He sent word to his parents through Tal that she would recover. As he watched her sweating body toss and turn for several hours, he wasn’t so sure. Due to her allergy, her reaction was much worse than it would have been if she’d merely been cut.

Questions swam in his head, but he did not reveal what he had found in her luggage. Watching her toss and mumble once again, Yusef knew he would have to wait for his answers.

After careful examination, he would almost venture a guess that the luggage wasn’t hers at all. All of the clothing, but for the tight black number with the torn sleeve, wouldn’t come close to fitting her. The name written on the luggage tag read, Doris O’Rourke, a name that didn’t match any of her numerous ID’s.

That first day of marital bliss came and went with her moaning gasps of pain and insane ramblings of crashed spaceships, slavery, and pieces of adventures Yusef couldn’t begin to decipher. It would appear his little mystery wife led a very exciting life. He wondered what would bring her to Qurilixen as a bride.

Letting her have his bed, he chose to spend the night on the couch. It was a long time before he finally slept. And when dreams finally came, they were troubled and full of unanswerable questions.

Olena cracked open her eyes. Aside from needing a drink of water, she felt wonderful. Her dreams had been dark, nightmarish horrors of the mind, but she was used to that. Nightmares had plagued her ever since she could remember. Not once could she recall having a good dream.

Looking around, she frowned. It took a moment for her to remember where she was—Qurilixen. The word was like a slap of cold water in the face. Blinking, she looked at the disgustingly proper nightgown she wore. It was as if she’d been attacked by ruffles in her sleep. She practically gagged in repulsion. Olena never slept in a nightgown, preferring to sleep with her gun and nothing else.

Yawning, she scratched her backside out of habit, where her slave brand used to be. The bedroom was wide, with low ceilings. A fine breeze drifted through a crack in the picturesque window that made up the far side of the wall. A dark curtain was pulled over it and Olena could see just a sliver of trees outside.

The bed she laid on was stuffed with feathers, light and downy and the thickest she had ever felt. A black coverlet draped over her legs, the emblem of a large silver dragon’s head across the top. Wearily, she kicked it off, realizing she was naked beneath the gown. She took mental note of her body, checking it for injury. Aside from the slight ache in her bandaged arm, she appeared unharmed. For that she was relieved.

Seeing the floral bags she had stolen, she froze. The ugly nightgown had come from them. Olena rushed to the bags and began digging through them. The ID’s were right where she’d left them but the gun was missing. Olena scowled. That weapon was rare and had cost her a very extraordinary pearl, the size of her fist, and nearly two years of negotiating with the Boiler Sect to acquire.

Having spent the better part of the last month in a robe being pampered, mainly because she didn’t have anything else to wear, Olena dug through a large carved dresser of dark wood. She didn’t find anything worth putting on. All the clothes belonged to her “husband” and would undoubtedly swim on her.

Again, she scratched her backside. Olena smirked, thinking it very hilarious. She was married. Poor man who’d taken her on. She felt only a little sorry for him. As soon as she got her gun back, she was out of there.

“Swim,” she said softly, crossing to the window and looking out into the bright forest. She yawned, stretching her arms. She could use a little exercise. Smelling under her arms she flinched—ugh, and a bath.

Padding barefoot to the bedroom door, she cracked it open. The house was large and open and very much like a lodge. Wood made up the walls in giant, round logs. She recognized the wood as coming from the forest outside. A fireplace of natural stone was set into the wall, with a chimney leading up to the roof. Little wooden figures were on the mantle. Fur rugs were everywhere. A small skylight dome in the ceiling was covered with curtains, matching the dark curtains hanging on one of the walls. Olena detected another large window beneath the curtains and smaller ones on the opposite side of the home.

The house was split into two levels. Where she stood, on the top level, was the bedroom. A large bathroom was across from the bedroom and a sliding door led out to a back patio of broken yellow stone. The top floor curved around the center lower section to the kitchen area. Taking two steps down would get you to the living room and fireplace.

By the small windows was a wooden dining table set into the wall, with rounded cushioned booth seats. An open kitchen with wooden cabinets, glossy countertops, and a food bar with stools was next to it. Everything was dark wood accented with black. A carved dragon’s head was above the food bar, embedded into the wall where the ceiling rose higher. It matched the design on the coverlet.

Before the fireplace was a wood couch with plush black cushions, a matching wide-based chair, and a rocking chair—now that was something she’d heard of but had never seen. Draped over the end of the couch, she saw a tanned masculine hand. It wasn’t moving. She guessed Yusef was asleep, as she heard a soft snoring coming from his general area.

Seeing her husband took her a little by surprise. It shouldn’t have, as she expected to see him eventually. But remembering his hands, so strong and sure as they touched her, sent a shiver over her spine. Instantly, she grabbed her sore arm and frowned. She wondered what the Pirate Code said about someone else healing you against your will. Honestly, it had never once come up until now. Most pirates were a callous lot and did not take well to nurturing each other.

Ignoring Yusef, she stealthily moved across the wood floors. The boards did not creak as she walked over them. Going to the sliding glass door, she unlatched it and sneaked outside without making a sound.

The air was surprisingly cool for such a bright day. Birds sang beautifully in the distance. Little noises of insects came from the large forest. The air was fresh and the sky a clear greenish-blue. Three suns shone in the cloudless sky—two yellow, one blue.

Seeing a path leading into the forest, her curiosity got the better of her and she wandered off. The new, longer length of her hair was heavy on her back but she ignored it. She was sure she looked horrible. If anyone came across her, they would probably scream like they were under attack. Olena smiled. It wouldn’t be the first time she was mistaken for a witch. She just hoped the Qurilixen people didn’t burn anyone at the stake. She didn’t want to go through that one again.

To her pleasure, she saw a small pond just off the side of the path. Picking her way through the yellow ferns she came to the edge and smiled. The water looked clear. Dipping her toe in, she smiled. It was warm.

Olena glanced around and listened. The insects still buzzed, but aside from that the forest was quiet. Without further contemplation, she pulled the nightgown over her head and dove naked into the pond.

Yusef yawned, rubbing his tired eyes. He had been up most of the night looking after his wife. Her fits had stopped during the late hours and he could finally relax enough to sleep.

After going to the bathroom, he went to check on his patient. Cracking open the door, he frowned. She was gone.

Yusef pushed back his hair and made a quick survey of his home. Seeing the latch to the sliding glass door was unhooked, he went outside, not bothering with boots. It wasn’t hard for him to pick up her scent and he followed the trail to the east pond. Hearing splashing, he slowed. Seeing the discarded nightgown, he grinned.

Coming up through the trees, he quietly pulled back a branch. The surface of the water rippled where she had gone under. He made his way to the shoreline, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to emerge.

His wife surfaced with a graceful flow of the arms, leaning forward to float naked on the water before diving back under. He wanted to growl at the little wood sprite scene. His eyes blazed with golden fire. He found no reason to hide the dragon from her.

He was sure she’d seen him on the shore, but was choosing to ignore him. When she stayed under a long time, he frowned, about ready to dive in after her. She broke through the surface with a loud gasp and treaded water. Slowly moving her arms, she brought herself around to face him.

“You really shouldn’t be swimming in there,” Yusef called when she looked at him.

“Why? Afraid I’ll drown?” She leaned back to get her hair off her face. The red flames were darkened by the water and drifted around her on the surface.

“No,” he said, “givre.”

“Giv—what?” she asked, her tone playful as she again dove under the surface, giving him a quick view of her very muscular backside. When she resurfaced, she had swum closer to better hear him.

“Ah, snake, I believe is the Old Star language word. They love to swim these waters.”

His bride laughed and swam back out to the middle where the sunlight was brighter. The warm light struck upon her body, as she turned in the water to let it hit her flesh.

“Nice try, knight.” She chuckled. “The water is too nice. I don’t want to leave it quite yet.”

“I am Yusef.” He frowned. Did she not remember him?

“Whatever you say, knight.” She spit a mouthful of water in his direction. It fell very short of him, but she grinned impishly nonetheless.

“Come,” he motioned his hand, not sure he liked the way she said the word “knight”. It didn’t exactly sound like a compliment. “It’s time to get out.”

“No,” she sighed, again rinsing her mouth and spitting. “I’m not finished.”

“Come on,” Yusef said. “Seriously.”

“Oh, seriously? Well, seriously then, you’d better tell those boys over there that the show is over. I wouldn’t want to come racing out and startle them into manhood too quickly.”

She jerked her finger to the far tree line and twirled herself in little, playful circles. Yusef frowned, instantly seeing what she meant. He saw a head pop back behind a large trunk. Giving a gruff wave of his hand, he shooed them away. The pack of obnoxious boys ran off into the forest, laughing.

“They’ve had me trapped for some time,” his wife said. She didn’t seem all that concerned by it.

“The medic warned that you shouldn’t spend too much time in the sun today. The injection he gave you can make you sensitive.” Yusef eyed her eager to see her naked body more fully.

“Nice try, knight,” she called, swimming forward. She came up closer than before. Droplets of water clung to her face and lips. “You’re just trying to get a show of your own.”

“If I wanted a show, wife, I would go swimming with you,” he answered without flinching.

That brought her up short. He’d knocked her off guard.

She waited, as if to see if he would turn around to give her privacy. When he didn’t, she shrugged, and stood in the shallow water.

Yusef’s gaze devoured her naked, wet flesh. His wife rang out her hair, twisting the locks before throwing them over her shoulder. In the sunlight, he noticed her nether hair was a darker shade than her fiery locks. If he was a weak man, he would have fallen to his knees and worshiped at her feet.

“Finished?” she asked, her hands moving to her hips. She didn’t even try to cover herself from his view.

“No.” He was pleased she wasn’t too shy to stand before him. “You’re shivering. Come here. Let me warm you.”

“No thanks, knight,” she tossed glibly. “I’m warm enough.”

“Then come cool me for I am hot.”

She stepped forward, opening her mouth, probably to return a quick jibe, when instead she gasped. Flinching as if in pain, she looked down at her ankle.

“Ah, great.” She made an annoyed sound of irritation. Blood trailed over her anklebone. His wife blinked heavily, her eyes rolling in her head as she fell forward into his arms.

Yusef caught her naked, unconscious body against his chest. The telltale red and black tail of a givre slithered into the water. Cursing, he easily lifted her up into his arms and carried her quickly back to his home.

Chapter 10

Yusef set his wife’s naked body on their bed and immediately went to the intercom to call for a medic.

Her body was limp as he dried her off and she didn’t make a sound. Yusef noticed her skin was slowly turning a subtle shade of pink. He continued his tender administrations even as he cursed at her for being too stubborn to listen to him. His stomach tight with worry, he gruffly called for the medic to enter when he heard the man’s knock.

“Draea Anwealda,” Tal said. He was the same medic who had taken care of her the day before. Seeing his wet patient wearing one of Yusef’s large cotton shirts, he frowned. When Yusef looked back down, he saw her skin was becoming increasingly redder.

“Tal,” Yusef acknowledged with a curt nod. He stepped back to let the man work.

“This is a stubborn one you have.” Tal shook his head. He sighed heavily, setting down his bag to delve through it. Finding the instruments he needed, he confirmed, “She went out in the sun, didn’t she?”

Yusef nodded. “She did.”

“And swimming, I see,” Tal said, taking a reading from her arm. He shook his head slightly. “I take it she met up with a givre?”

“Yes,” Yusef said, his brow furrowing. “She fainted from the bite.”

“It probably wasn’t the bite that did it. It was more than likely the shock of the givre’s mild venom combined with the medication I gave her for her allergy.” Tal injected his patient with a new medicine and then quickly drew his arms back and away. She jumped in surprise, instantly opening her eyes.

Glancing first at Yusef and then at Tal, she swung her arm at the medic’s hand holding the needle. Tal easily avoided being struck. He pulled away with a frown.

“Ow,” Olena gasped at the pain the movement caused her. She reached to her angry red back and flinched. Accusingly, she glared at Yusef. “Ugh, what’d you do to me, supernova?”

“You did it to yourself,” Tal answered with the authoritative tone of a doctor scolding a wayward patient. He took another reading from her arm and nodded to himself in satisfaction. Almost distracted, he ordered her, “This time, try to stay out of the sun for the rest of today. You should be fine by tomorrow.”

“What about those burns?” Yusef asked, nodding at her face. Every inch of her was bright red. Even her eyes had a pink tint to them.

Tal frowned and lectured, “I should let you wait it out to make sure you’ve learned your lesson, my lady, but I’ll give you a lotion to put on it. It too should be better by tomorrow. Take it easy, drink plenty of water, sleep and you should be fine.”

She looked as if she would’ve said something sarcastic in return. Then, wearily, she nodded. Yusef suspected her agreement was to get the man to stop reprimanding her.

The medic handed Yusef skin cream and eye drops. “Give her those pain pills if she will take them. I can’t give her any more injections just now until the other medicine filters out of her system.”

“Thank you,” Yusef said. When Tal had gone, he turned to his bride and shook his head. “You really should listen to me when I tell you things.”

“Could you save the lecture until a little later, knight?” She closed her eyes. “I’m kind of hurting right now and that doc just made my head swim with his yammering.”

“Are you going to take the medicine this time, or should I just leave you to suffer?” He tried not to smile at her fighting spirit. Was this woman just bent on doing herself harm? He had half a mind to tie her to the bed and keep her prisoner, just to save her from herself.

“I’ll take it,” she grumbled sheepishly.

“All right, that’s more like it,” Yusef said, glad to see he wasn’t going to have to pin her down like the night before and force medicine on her. He went to get a glass of water and the pills. When he came back, she hadn’t moved.

Yusef touched her back to help her sit up. She dutifully took what he gave her. Her skin was hot. “Let’s get this tunic off and I’ll put some of that cream on you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, knight,” she mumbled. But she did not fight him when he lifted the shirt off her skin so she could lie against the cold sheets. A weak moan left her lips as she shut her eyes.

He slowly rubbed the cream over her burning body, careful to keep his touch light. Almost instantly the worst of the burn faded. She moaned again, but this time it sounded more like pleasure than pain.

Yusef’s body lurched in response to the soft, feminine sound. He quickly buried his passions. Now was definitely not the time.

Peeking at him through red eyelids, she said, “You’re quite the nursemaid.”

Her tone was soft and he could tell by the look on her face that those simple words were the closest she had ever come to saying thank you. He smiled at her, running his hands over her face. His palm whispered over her lips and she shivered uncontrollably.

He wanted to let his fingers linger on her skin, but he forced them to make quick work of his task. She was in no condition to receive his attentions. When her body was soothed and healing, he placed eye drops into her eyes, and covered her with the sheet.

She smiled wryly at him even as the pain pills began to work, forcing her to fall into a drug induced sleep.

Yusef stood, looking down at his wife. Her rosy face was not as bad as a moment ago. Her hair fanned around her head in damp tangles. Slowly, he shook his head and picked up his discarded tunic.

Retrieving a brush from the bathroom, he brushed her hair out for her in quick strokes, doing what he could to keep the locks from drying into knots. Then, going to the kitchen, he made himself breakfast and ate alone at his dining table.

The second day of his marriage was spent in the same way as the first, tending to an unconscious, sick wife.

That evening when Olena awoke, it was to find Yusef at the end of the bed. His feet were resting on the edge, the legs of his chair tilted back as he studied her intently.

Olena flushed. She was lying on her side. Her arm bent beneath her head, the other rested seductively over her waist, and the top sheet was pulled down around her hips to reveal her breasts and stomach.

“Don’t move,” Yusef ordered quietly. He worked his hands, but she couldn’t see what he was doing in the dim light. His voice was low and hoarse as he spoke. Something in his tone kept her from sitting up.

“What are you doing?” Olena asked. Suddenly scowling, she asked, “You’re not, ah, playing with yourself, are you, knight?”

Yusef chuckled. A stunning smile formed on his handsome, dark face, making her tingle with feminine longing. “No, wife, I would rather have you play with me.”

Olena blushed. Merely looking at his bold figure did strange things to her insides. She wasn’t sure what she would do if he were to touch her. It wasn’t like he had festival rules to stop him. Remembering how he denied her, after she practically threw herself at him, helped to cool her ardor some—but not much.

“So what are you doing then?” she asked. Her lids dipped over her eyes. She concentrated on being very still.

“I’m carving you,” he answered. Suddenly, he dropped his feet. The chair righted itself with a thud. Yusef set a small knife on his dresser. “You can move now.”

Olena sat up, pulling the sheet to hide her breasts. Her body was still sore, but didn’t hurt nearly as bad as before.

“How do you feel?” He stood.

“Ah, fine. I’ve been through worse. But I tell you if that Tal comes at me with another shot, I might lay him out good.” If the medic hadn’t been helping her for the second time, she would have beaten him senseless for daring to lecture her like a child. As it was, she was grateful her skin no longer felt as if she was being burned at the stake.

Yusef chuckled. “I would be nice to him if I were you. He’s saved your life twice.”

“Oh.” Her frown deepened, and she grumbled, “I’ll send him a card or something.”

“That won’t be necessary. Tal sent the bill around this afternoon.”

“You’re a nobleman,” she said, defensively. “I am sure you can afford it.”

Yusef’s smile faded and he watched her carefully. “What makes you think I am a nobleman?”

“The servant at the festival called you lordship, and this house.” Olena waved her hand to encompass the area.

“Ah.”

“You’re not, are you?” Olena gave a delicate shrug, causing the sheet to dip low. “Oh, well, a girl can’t have everything.”

He chuckled.

“Servants would have been fun, but I much prefer not to be noble.” It would be harder to sneak around the galaxy if her picture was published everywhere as a missing ladyship. Though, on the other hand, those credentials could gain her access to some very exclusive marks.

“What’s your name?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

Olena’s smiled widened. She was not going to tell him. She enjoyed teasing him too much.

“Well, knight, are you going to let me see me or what?” Olena demanded, holding her hand out and wiggling her fingers.

Yusef tossed the carving at her. Olena caught it with both hands. To his obvious delight, she dropped the sheet to do it. Quickly, she righted her covers, moving back to lean against the dragon headboard. She held the sheet in place with her arms.

She studied the carving in amazement. It looked exactly like her, though the edges were a little rough and unfinished, down to the way her hair curled by her temples when she let it dry naturally. It was perhaps one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Hiding her emotions, she forced a sardonic tenor to her words, as she expressed, “Typical.”

Yusef raised a brow. Olena tossed it back at him.

“You made my breasts bigger,” she explained, acting as if she didn’t care. Inside, she shook. This game was getting too close.

Remember your scar, she thought, trying to remind herself to be strong. Hurt flickered in his eyes before he hid the emotion. The look struck a nerve, causing her actual pain inside her chest. Great. I must have hit my head when I fainted. Fine pirate I’m turning out to be.

Olena had a feeling her entire arm would be marked with cuts before this ordeal was over—especially if he kept looking at her with those liquid, shifting eyes of molten gray and gold.

He pulled open a dresser drawer and dropped the sculpture unceremoniously inside. Olena’s eyes nonchalantly followed the movement. She itched to get a hold of it. She wanted to keep it.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Mm, starving,” Olena admitted. Without thinking, she added, “You wouldn’t happen to have any clothes I could borrow, would you?”

Yusef glanced at her bags on the floor.

“Oh, yeah, that,” Olena forced a giggle, lying easily. “The guys grabbed the wrong luggage and I’ve been stuck with those things the entire trip.”

Yusef merely nodded. She had the feeling he didn’t believe her.

Olena cleared her throat, not sure how much this dark warrior suspected. She didn’t dare mention the gun. “So, you got a shirt or something I can use?”

“Sure.” He opened another drawer, tossing her a light cotton shirt. Olena slipped it over her head. Then, crossing to her bags, she pulled the first one open and looked inside. Digging, she found her bra and underwear and slipped them on under the shirt.

Yusef watched quietly. When she turned back to him, she inquired, “Pants?”

“Sure,” he said again and, leaning over, he opened a bottom drawer.

Olena’s head angled slightly to the side, admiring his firm backside. She straightened and affected a look of perfect innocence before he turned around. He tossed her a pair of light cotton pants and she slipped them over her hips.

“If you stay out of trouble,” he said. “I’ll take you to the dressmaker and pick up some things that fit.”

“Dressmaker?” Olena wrinkled her nose in instant distaste. “No thanks, knight. I’ll stick with these. I don’t care if I never see another dress again.”

“That might not be possible. Dresses are required formal attire at the palace. If we ever go there, you’ll need a gown.”

Olena shuddered dramatically and mumbled under her breath, “I don’t care if we never go to the palace.”

“Come on, wife, you must be hungry.” Yusef led the way to the kitchen.

Yusef spent the evening talking with his wife about non-important things until a late hour. She still refused to tell him her name, though he had tried several times to trick her into revealing it. She didn’t seem too terribly disappointed by the idea of being married to a common man. That pleased him.

Yusef found, to his pleasure, that his wife had a quick wit, an open laugh, and a smile that curled easily on her beautiful lips. Her bold emerald eyes shone in constant mischief, even when she did nothing. It made him curious to discover everything about her, and at the same time, perfectly content to know nothing.

Seeing her yawn, Yusef urged her to bed to conserve her strength. He again spent the night alone on the couch.

Chapter 11

To Olena’s dismay, she kind of liked her husband. His dark eyes penetrated as if they saw everything and would reveal nothing. His smile was slow to come, but it was genuine. He was laid back, easily taking her jokes in stride, never taking offense at her impishness. He was polite and well mannered. He treated her like a lady.

Since she had recovered almost completely by the next morning, aside from a slight glow to her skin that wasn’t at all unappealing, he took her to the village as promised. Yusef wore one of his casual black tunics with the dragon emblem and Olena wore his baggy clothing over her thin frame. Several people stopped to stare at them. She grinned at the attention, not discouraged one bit, not even as she felt Yusef watching her reactions from the corner of his eye.

Olena thought the Qurilixian village very nice—for a barbaric planet in the middle of nowhere. Her husband—she giggled silently at the thought—appeared to have the biggest house on the edge of town. It was a short distance from the village, but a pleasant walk through a wide cobblestone path in the forest. Yusef didn’t touch her as they strolled, but there was an easy companionship between them, carried over from the night before.

The village spread out over a valley, close to where the marriage festival had taken place. All the tents had been dismantled and the nearby field looked barren without them.

“That is the royal palace.” Yusef pointed to a cliff side at the edge of the village.

“Where?” she asked, craning her neck to see up to the top.

Yusef laughed, “The mountain.”

“I don’t see a palace,” Olena answered skeptically. Again she eyed the mountain.

“It’s hidden inside the mountain. There, see where that man just came out of the side?”

“Yes.” It looked as if he came straight out of the rock.

“That’s the front gate. The four princes designed it to be an impenetrable fortress,” he continued. “This village is under the protection of the House of Draig.”

“Smart,” Olena mused wryly. “That way, their noble backsides are protected while all these villagers take the brunt of the enemy’s wrath.” She shook her head in distaste. “No matter where I go, royalty is all the same.”

She glanced at him and caught his frown at her words. Figuring he was perhaps a loyalist to the crown, she thought it best to change subjects. A courtyard surrounded the palace fortress, close to the surrounding valley. Olena detected men on a long practice field to the side, training for battle.

“Why do they train in human form?” She nodded in the soldiers’ direction. “Wouldn’t it make sense to shift for battle?”

“It would,” Yusef answered. “But not all the wives know of the shifting and —”

“You don’t want to scare them by a show of battling dragons,” she broke in. “Too bad. I would really like to see that. Though, judging from some of the women on the journey over, it’s a very wise you ease them into the truth. Galaxy Brides doesn’t even hint at your abilities.”

Yusef chuckled quietly to himself.

“So what do you call yourself anyway, dragon?” she asked, continuing up the path.

“Do you so easily forget, wife? I am Yusef.”

Olena rolled her eyes heavenward. “What is your shifted form called?”

He smiled. “We are Draig.”

“Named after?” she prompted, unable to help her curiosity. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, getting a chill. She wondered if he could change for her on command. She’d really like to get another closer look at him in Draig.

“It means dragon. Draig is what our race is called, the name of our royalty, what we become when we shift.”

“Ah, inventive,” she teased.

“Easy to remember,” he teased back.

The village presented a charming scene of domestication. The homes were built of natural materials. Cobblestone streets had been constructed almost meticulously, as if someone actually measured each angle and distance. The people smiled at each other and waved. Olena found it very disconcerting. Her first instinct was to run, unable to shake the tiny feeling that she was about to be arrested.

“What are criminal punishments here?” Olena asked before she could stop herself.

Yusef arched a brow. “It depends on the crime. Atonement. Or, generally, people are put into the underground dungeons if the offense is bad enough.”

“So, no burning at the stake? Stoning? Racks?” They were reasonable questions considering who she was. Plans did occasionally go wrong. Though, she was beginning to suspect the only thing she could do to Yusef was run out on him. She didn’t think she had it in her to steal from him.

He stopped walking and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It is safe here, bride, there is no reason for you to worry.”

Oh, how little you know, supernova. Olena merely smiled at him and continued walking.

The Draig wore light linen tunics during the day, minus the dragon crest and finer embroidery that was on her wedding gown. According to Yusef, they were a happy people, hardworking and honest. Olena noted her husband appeared to be well liked. Most of the villagers called out greetings to him, looking up from what they were doing as the couple walked by.

To the dressmaker’s dismay and Yusef’s obvious amusement, Olena refused to be measured for a dress. Olena picked out several cotton pants and tighter feminine shirts with built in breast support. She piled them haphazardly in her arms before changing behind a screen. When she’d finished, she tossed the borrowed clothes back at Yusef and smiled brightly.

“Now this is more like it,” she beamed, stretching her arms around. Seeing a pair of black leather boots in her size, she grinned. “I’ll take these too.”

Before Yusef could protest, not that he would have as he kept insisting she buy whatever she needed, she was pulling them on her feet. The dressmaker gathered the discarded pile of clothes and clucked her tongue at the impudent Olena in dismay. The woman began folding them and placed them carefully into a basket. She grumbled under her breath.

Olena frowned at the dressmaker in turn, grabbed the remaining pile and dumped them on top without folding. The dressmaker’s old face contorted with irritation and she began scolding Olena with a pointed, wrinkly finger. Olena, who couldn’t understand one word of it, smiled back and nodded with eyes wide with mischief.

The woman tossed up her hands and waved Olena away. Olena leaned over and kissed the old woman’s cheek. The dressmaker’s face rounded in shock and she shook her head, continuing to shoo Olena from her store. Though, this time, she was smiling as she did so.

Yusef waved a boy over and pressed a coin into his hand along with the bags. After asking him to deliver the purchases to his house, he continued with the tour of the village, stopping to speak to a few people in his language. Bright blue birds flew overhead, singing in a strange low shrill. An animal Yusef called a ceffyl grazed in a fenced yard. It had a fat elephant body and a single horn mounted on his head. As she watched, it hissed a long, slithering tongue in her direction.

Though villagers eyed her curiously, they did not speak directly to her. Olena didn’t take notice. Seeing a boy laughing and pointing at her to his friends, she wondered if he was maybe one of her pond-side watchers. She blew him a kiss and he nearly fell off his perch in shock. The boys ran away from her laughing, calling out words she didn’t understand.

“Ach, Yusef!” came a loud cry. “I was just on my way to see you.”

Olena jolted in surprise to see a giant of a man with two blackened eyes lumbering toward them. She remembered him vaguely from the morning after the Breeding Festival. The man had an easy smile, full of a mischief that Olena could readily relate to. Instantly, she liked him.

“Agro,” Yusef answered in the Old Star language so Olena could understand. “Meet my wife.”

“Hello, wife of Yusef.” Agro audaciously winked, showing that he too remembered her. “Have you a name of your own?”

“She’s not saying,” Yusef said, with a shrug. “Maybe you can get it out of her.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Agro said gallantly, grinning at her like a fool. “A little mystery never hurt a woman none. Don’t you dare tell him, lass, at least not for the first fifty years or so.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She grinned, liking this beast of a man’s easygoing nature.

Yusef groaned.

“In fact, I don’t want to know it either,” Agro declared amiably. “I’ll lie awake at night thinking about it. It will be good for me.”

“Don’t let your wife hear you say that,” Yusef said, unconcerned. Everyone in the village knew that Agro was more than taken with his bride. He was a doting fool and didn’t care who saw it. But, try to tease him about the obviousness of his undying affections for her, and he’d knock your skull in.

“She’ll be happy to have me preoccupied.” Agro didn’t lose his charm for an instant.

“Why were you looking for me?” Yusef asked, turning serious. “Has anything happened?”

“No, nothing like that.” Agro latched his hands to his waist and rolled back on his feet. Eyes narrowing, he turned serious. “Word is you just got back from a hunting trip to the north last week.”

Yusef laughed, as if already knowing where this was going.

“That I did,” Yusef said, nodding.

“Catch anything?” the man asked.

“Maybe,” Yusef said, drawing out the suspense.

“Could be you want some company over at that house of yours to help you cook it?” Agro persisted.

Olena watched the friendly ritual in amusement.

Yusef scratched his chin. “I don’t know. I might have to clear it with the wife first.”

Agro turned his wide green eyes to Olena. Gazing through his bruises, he said, “My most gracious lady, would you do me the honor of telling your husband to take his—”

“Hey.” Yusef growled in mock battle. The low rumbling sound caused a small shiver to work over Olena’s spine.

“What?” Agro gave an innocent shrug.

“I already have several times,” Olena said. “The stubborn man won’t listen to me.”

Yusef threw his hands in the air, clearly not able to fight an attack on both fronts. Agro’s hearty laugh rang out over the village, drawing smiles from around them.

“You don’t need an invitation from him, Agro,” Olena said. “You just come on over and we’ll help ourselves to whatever is in the fridge.”

“Now, you’ve done it,” Yusef said with a mock frown. “This giant will eat us out of house and home.”

“Ach, off with you,” he said to Yusef, before bowing over Olena’s hand. “Tonight I’m a guest of the lady.”

“You’d better bring the wife,” Yusef said. He casually draped his arm over Olena’s shoulders and steered her away. “I might need help keeping you at bay.”

“She’d love it,” Agro announced, grinning like a fool. “She’s pregnant again, by the way.”

“Congratulations, friend,” Yusef called, leading her away. “Why don’t you bring the boys with you?”

“Will do,” Agro called, saluting gallantly as he trotted off to the practice field.

“I like him.” Olena enjoyed the feel of Yusef’s hand on her shoulders, but artfully slipped out of his embrace with the pretense of picking a yellow flower from the ground. When she stood, she kept out of his reach. Keeping her expression guarded, she took a little too much time studying the flower without seeing it.

“I could tell.” Yusef said.

“What exactly does he want you to cook?” she asked.

“Agro has a terrible fondness for roasted baudrons. They are only found in the north hunting grounds. I already planned on asking him over, as is our tradition after each hunting trip.”

“Did I ruin your tradition?” She flicked her finger over the top of the flower.

“No.”

“How many sons does he have anyway?”

“I think, with Cordele pregnant again, this will be twelve.” Yusef turned his steps back home. “Do you need anything else while we’re in town?”

“No, I’m fine,” she answered in distraction. “Is that normal? I mean having so many children in one family?”

Yusef grinned. “Agro has been, ah, blessed with good fortune. Although, anywhere from two to six sons is more of a normal size for our families.”

Olena was quiet.

Yusef bumped her playfully in the shoulder and asked, “Why? Do you want to try and beat him?”

Olena paled at the thought of one. She shook her head in denial. “No. I don’t want any children.”

The answer didn’t appear to be what he wanted to hear. She should have played along, pretended to be the wife he wanted, but for some reason she didn’t want to act the part.

Yusef’s spirits were dampened a bit by his wife’s desire not to have children. When he’d put his arm around her, it had felt natural to claim her as his. In that moment, he felt a connection stirring between them. It was not only his emotions, but the promise of what their future may be.

Now she stayed away, keeping distance between them. He pretended not to notice the withdrawal. When he looked at her, the easy companionship of the morning was gone from her guarded features.

They made the journey home in silence.

Chapter 12

A dusting of flour coated Olena as she kneaded and formed the dough into loaves. Being elbow deep in Qurilixen blue bread dough wasn’t how she thought to spend the afternoon. She scowled at Yusef, hating the chore, as she grumbled, “I didn’t realize I would have to do all this. Can’t we hire a servant or something?”

Yusef, who was helping her prepare for her guests, laughed. “You’re the one who invited him.”

“Yeah, one man,” she said. “And he offered to help cook. You had to go and invite the entire brood.”

“It’s improper for a woman to extend an invitation to a man and not his wife and sons. I was saving you an embarrassment.”

“Who says I would have been embarrassed? Anyway, how was I to know?” She finished forming the last loaf. They weren’t perfect, but they would do. Yusef took them and put them in the brick oven over the low fire.

Olena jumped up to sit on the countertop. Brushing a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her arm, she sighed. “I’m about ready to get bitten by another snake so I can lie down and let you do this. In fact, I think I’m coming down with something.”

Yusef chuckled. “Come on, you’re almost done.”

“You need a better job,” she continued to complain, though she smiled shyly at him. She pushed gracefully back on the counter, making her legs go straight. Her feet stretched over the edge, dancing absently in the air. She leaned toward her toes, folding over in half, to stretch out her back. Resting her head on her knee, she finished, “Then you could afford to pay someone to do this stuff.”

Yusef eyed her flexibility with obvious interest, as if he thought of different ways he could bend her body to accommodate him.

Men.

Olena turned her head to face her lap and closed her eyes.

“That’s why I got married,” Yusef said.

Olena gasped at his comment and sat up, scowling until she saw him wink playfully at her.

“Oh,” she huffed, taking a handful of flour and flinging it at him. Yusef ducked, laughing.

She grabbed another handful, launching it at his dark head before he could stand. It hit him and showered over his shoulder to the floor. Flinging his hair up as he stood, he lunged for her. To Olena’s surprise, his eyes flashed with gold and he hopped from the floor to the countertop in one swift motion, landing effortlessly on his feet. Bending at the knees, he crouched over her.

Olena’s chest heaved in heavy breaths. His show of power excited her. A timid laugh left her when she saw his flour-dusted tunic.

“You think you’re smooth, don’t you?” he chuckled wickedly.

Olena’s heart skipped around erratically in her chest. Yusef leaned forward. Before she could react, he kissed her. Her chuckling died down against his lips. His eyes bore into hers with a fevered heat. He jerked her forward and continued to kiss her, pulling back as her mouth opened, trying to follow.

“I know I am,” she murmured. Her voice came out husky and inviting, unintentionally changing the meaning of her words.

“Your flesh does look as smooth as cream.” Yusef’s gaze dipped down over her neck. “May I judge for myself?” He dipped his head to flick his tongue over where a little freckle dotted her collarbone. Olena shivered at the soft, tasting caress. His hand lifted to lightly brush over her neck. “Mmm, soft.”

Olena’s breath caught. She was mesmerized.

“So sweet,” he murmured in a tone that vibrated along the indent of her neck. He tasted her again, licking her racing pulse. “Delicious.”

“Ah-haa.”

“Will you let me taste more, I wonder,” Yusef said, as if to himself. “Will you let me dine on your flesh?”

Olena felt the back of his hand brush along her inner thigh, lightly moving toward her heated center. It was clear what he wanted a taste of.

His gaze trailed down, devouring her with liquid gold. She nearly swooned to see his shifting eyes. Trembling, she was scared of what he sought to do to her. Her eyes dipped to his mouth, wanting him to continue with his wicked words and knowing she should make him stop.

Impatiently, her hands pulled at his tunic, trying to strip it from his shoulders. Her body was on fire and every thought left her but one—the thought of being possessed by him.

Yusef broke the kiss long enough to toss his shirt aside. As he came to her again, her eyes were half closed in pleasure. His arm brushed the counter, sweeping the bowl to the floor. With one powerful movement, he spun her around to lay on the hard countertop, trapping her beneath his weight.

Olena gasped, liking how easily he could control her body. He tossed her around, as if she was a feather. His chest loomed before her, haloed in light from the ceiling dome. Raven locks reached down, tickling her cheek before his kiss could meet her lips once more.

She couldn’t stop. Her body melted beneath his strength.

Yusef tasted flour on her lips and smelled a delectable combination of dough and baking bread. Desire flooded him, pouring out of her into him and back again. It was the one thing she allowed to flow freely between them. He suspected it was because it was the only emotion she didn’t know how to mask.

He teased her mouth, pulling away so their breath mingled. Sweet lips reached for his, begging. She whimpered a soft sound that he captured within him. With a growl, he gave her what she craved. He dipped his head forward to sip from the parted offering, stealing her breath inside himself, tasting her passion. He braced his weight and held her head in his hands, dipping his fingers into the red silk locks to force the kiss deep. His tongue thrust inside her mouth as his hardened body wished to delve inside of her.

Soon she was urging him between her spreading legs and fitted her knees beside his waist. He pressed his arousal against her, grinding through their clothes. They shared a groan of passion. Olena’s eyes opened only to lazily close. Yusef refused to stop. A torrent of pleasure ran rampant through his limbs, making him weak and strong at the same time.

He pulled up her shirt to reveal the lace cupping her breasts. Without bothering to remove the undergarment, he pulled it beneath the soft globes. He devoured a nipple with his mouth, biting and licking her with growing delight.

“Ah, yes.” Olena arched against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, gripping him tightly. She stretched her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies heated behind the layers of constricting material. Their breath came out in tortured gasps. He rubbed against her, mad with anticipation.

He reached between their bodies, intent on freeing himself and her. Her movements were as eager as his and he couldn’t slow. He promised himself to enjoy her more fully later, but for now he needed to end the torturous aching in his loins. He needed to find release.

Olena gave in completely. She tensed, mindless with need. Just as Yusef was about to free his straining cock, he stopped. Leaping off the countertop, he pulled his stunned wife with him.

Olena blinked in surprise as she flew to the floor. Her legs almost fell out from beneath her, protesting their use and she had to grab the counter for support. Her breasts were bare, the nipples budded and reaching. She frowned in confusion to see her husband straightening his pants.

Yusef grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in front of him to adjust her shirt. He managed to cover her breasts from view just in time to see the front door open.

Olena gasped, as she heard their company coming in. Before turning, she righted her bra beneath her shirt. Yusef’s naked, panting chest rose and fell before her. His scent was still in her head, stinging her body. A loud laugh sounded behind her. Flushing with embarrassment, she turned to see Agro and his very petite wife.

Agro grinned knowingly at the mess the couple had made of the kitchen. He opened his mouth to speak. Olena narrowed her eyes in warning and held up her finger to him.

“One word from you and I’ll do more than blacken your eyes,” she threatened.

Yusef laughed, not embarrassed about being caught making love to his wife—even if it was on his kitchen counter.

Olena smiled at the amused woman by Agro’s side, “Cordele, I presume?”

Cordele nodded, speechless. She was a slender, pretty woman, and didn’t look anything like Olena would have imagined for someone who was pregnant with her twelfth child.

“Nice to meet you,” Olena answered Cordele’s nod, pushing her tousled hair from her face with as much dignity as she could muster. “Now, if you would excuse me.”

Olena walked to the bedroom and shut the door.

“Handled like a true princess,” Agro said in approval when the lady couldn’t hear.

Yusef grinned and leaned over to pick his shirt up from the floor. He was sorry his wife was embarrassed about being caught in his arms, though there was no reason for her to worry.

“If you like we could leave,” Cordele offered.

“Ach, no!” Agro denied, reaching a hand around her to playfully cover his wife’s mouth. “She’s not in her right mind. Those are the female chemicals talking.”

“Chemicals?” Yusef asked.

Cordele giggled as she freed herself from Agro’s teasing embrace. “No. Don’t ask him about his theories on marriage and women.”

“It’s true,” Agro said to the prince. “Women are filled with chemicals. If you shake them they explode.” Then to his wife, he said, “You told me not to shake you on several occasions.”

“Because I’m pregnant and you’re a brute,” Cordele dismissed. Eyeing the dirty countertop, she changed the subject. “Maybe we should eat outside.”

Yusef laughed louder, nodding his head. He didn’t bother to put his shirt on, instead balling it in his fist. “Where are the boys?”

“We left them at home to fend for themselves,” she said with a dismissing wave.

“Good thing, too,” Agro said. “I’m not sure I want them bearing witness to this little stunt of yours.”

Cordele hit her husband on the arm. Tilting her head to Yusef, she suggested, “Why don’t you go and check to make sure she’s all right? We women are not so used to your bold ways when we first arrive. I’ll tend to the bread.”

Yusef took her suggestion and walked across the house to the bedroom door. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“Ach, now, make sure you don’t take too long in there, or else we might eat without you,” Agro yelled, earning him another solid punch from his loving wife. His brow lifted in innocence. “What did I say?”

Olena gasped for breath once she was alone. Her whole body trembled, not only from being denied, but with mortification of what she’d almost allowed to happen. She was glad Agro and Cordele had stopped it, for she hadn’t been able to. She had given no protest.

To her shame, she had been willing to let Yusef have her—completely.

Taking the bandage off her arm, she studied the thin pink scar. She would just have to be more careful in the future. Obviously, when Yusef kissed her with those expert lips of his she lost her good sense. Jack would be doing angry somersaults in his grave if he saw her now.

Hell, she thought. It’s possible he’s dug himself out and is coming to get me for betraying the code.

“Wife?” Yusef asked softly, as he had taken to calling her. Olena jumped, not having heard him enter. His voice shook her from thoughts of the past.

Her husband closed the door behind him and looked down to where she poked at her scar. Olena immediately dropped her hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine.” The look of his muscular chest did not help her inner struggle against him. Every nerve ending jumped, and her body was more than ready to resume where they had left off. She glanced at the bed, swallowing apprehensively. She lied, “I wanted to clean up. I’m covered in flour.”

“They didn’t mean anything.” Yusef went to the dresser and took out a clean shirt.

“I know,” Olena waved her hand, unconcerned at having been caught. She was angrier at herself for needing outsiders to break it up. If she had to cut her arm a hundred more times, she wouldn’t let it happen again.

“No need to clean the kitchen now. We will light a fire outside. It is a beautiful evening,” he said.

She glanced at him as the shirt fell over his stomach. Suddenly, the memory of his naked body in the tent came to the forefront of her mind, and she had the unbidden fantasy of him leaning her into a wall and taking her standing up. With an unsteady breath that was abnormally loud, she asked, “Why don’t you go start the fire pit? I’ll be out in a minute.”

Yusef leaned over to kiss her but she turned her face away. Instead, he stroked back her hair. His low accent washed over her, as he said, “I’ll see you in a moment then.”

Chapter 13

“What I’m wondering is,” Olena announced looking pointedly across the fire at Agro. The man cuddled his wife. The meal of roasted baudrons was long since finished.

Yusef enjoyed the softer light of the evening. The haze would last all night, not nearly as dark as the festival had been. There was a serene perfection to the cool breeze, warm fire, and friendly company. The men and Olena partook of a stout beer made from grains from the eastern fields. Cordele drank water, respecting her condition.

Lifting her glass, Olena continued to Agro, “Who darkened those daylights of yours?”

Yusef, who was slowly watching his wife get tipsy, smiled at her unique turn of phrase. It seemed the more she drank, the less refined her speech became. Stretching his legs before him, he leaned back.

Agro chuckled, looking meaningfully at the prince.

“Ach, lass.” Agro’s grin widened, unable to help getting a jibe in at Yusef and his brothers, especially knowing the prince wouldn’t dare answer back and reveal who he truly was. “It was one of those boorish princes, the oldest Ualan. He was irritable at the festival and needed to vent.”

“Oh!” Olena said, sitting straighter. “So he took his frustrations out on you, did he? Isn’t that just like royalty?”

Yusef grimaced, his eyes pleading with Agro to let the matter drop.

Agro, who had grown up with all four princes and could rightly call them all friends, did not heed the prince’s plea. His eyes gleamed with mischief. Shaking his head sadly, he said, “Isn’t it, though? I should set you on them, firebird. I bet you could teach them a thing or two.”

“I bet without the title behind his name and in a fair fight, you could have taken him easily,” she insisted. “I bet you’d beat all four of their royal asses—anyway.”

Yusef flinched. Cordele hid her face in Agro’s chest and her shoulders shook uncontrollably as she tried to bury her laughter.

Agro lifted his glass to her and drank to her words. Yusef set his on the ground and shook his head, refusing to toast his insolent friend.

“So are you a dragon, too? I haven’t seen the tendencies in you.” Olena arched a brow. “Can I see?”

Agro choked on his drink in surprise. He looked at Yusef who simply shrugged his shoulders and threaded his hands behind his head.

Olena glanced at her husband. Oh, but he was beautiful. She had been trying to avoid looking at him all night. His mouth parted at her attention, and he let his eyes flash with gold, noting her mild obsession with shifting. To his pleasure, she finished off her drink in several gulps. She was clearly as affected by him as he was her. The passion from earlier surged forward and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her, and to keep kissing her for the rest of his life. The truth of his feelings was as real as anything in his life. The gods would not have given them to each other if he was not meant to love her.

“Ach, enough of that,” Agro grouched, breaking into the lovers’ trance.

“I could say the same to you,” Yusef answered, annoyed by the interruption. The stream of fiery emotions that radiated from her eyes was almost more than his denied body could take. “What with number twelve on the way and—?”

“Music,” Cordele broke in lightly, pushing up from her husband’s arms. “Yusef, would you mind playing for us? It has been awhile and I am sure your bride would love to hear her husband’s fine talent.”

Yusef smiled at the woman’s request and nodded his head. Olena blinked in surprise, but said nothing.

“I’ll go with you,” Agro said, clearly being pushed by his wife.

Leading the way to his bedroom, Yusef pulled his gittern from the back of his closet and strummed the instrument’s four strings to make sure it was in tune.

Agro leaned on the frame of the door, watching quietly for a moment. When Yusef finished, he said, “She knows about the Draig, yet you say nothing about who you are. Why?”

Yusef wasn’t surprised by the prying question. He let a sad line edge his mouth and said nothing.

“So you think she would reject you if you told her.”

“You heard her opinion about royalty. What do you think would happen if I told her she was a princess?” They spoke in their native tongue to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard by the women. “There is no rush. If she asks me directly, I’ll answer honestly.”

“Your wife has fire, friend, that’s for sure. I don’t envy you that. My Cordele is as sweet and mild as any man could dream of wanting in a woman.” Then wiggling his eyebrows wickedly, Agro added, “And, oh, can she dance. Drives me nearly insane each time I see her practicing. I swear that’s why she’s pregnant more often than not.”

“I always did like fire.” A soft smile grew on his features as he thought of the challenge his nameless wife presented him. “Now, if only I could figure out what to call her.”

Agro laughed, “You know, the same thing has been bothering me.”

Olena watched the men disappear inside. As Yusef moved out of her line of sight, she took a deep breath. The man affected her.

When the women were alone, Cordele said, “You know, the royals here are not bad. They are not like the monarchy on other planets.”

Olena eyed the woman. Was she related to the royal family? “You’re not a princess, are you?”

“No.” Cordele laughed.

Olena relaxed and was again able to breathe. For a moment, she’d been scared the royal family would get wind of her insults. That was definitely some attention she did not need.

“I am a dance instructor,” Cordele said. “In fact, I am teaching one of the new princesses a traditional Qurilixian dance in a few days. Prince Ualan came by and asked me just this morning.”

“He probably felt bad for doing that to your husband’s eyes. You should have told him to stick it.”

Cordele chuckled. “To tell the truth, my husband probably deserved it.”

Olena conceded to the woman’s insight with a nod. “I can see how you have your hands full with him.”

Cordele eyed the door where the men had gone into the home. “I should probably apologize now for any advice my husband might give yours. He has interesting theories on women and I’m afraid I do not correct him as I should. I find his logic endearing, but never took into consideration the fact he might share that knowledge with unsuspecting husbands.”

“Unsuspecting husbands?” Agro asked as he came from the house to rejoin the women. “You’re not telling her about the time I came home and you were wearing nothing but that—”

“No!” Cordele made a high-pitched noise of embarrassment. “Stop talking. Now.”

Agro laughed, but obliged.

Olena studied the man’s face. The pure love he felt for his wife shone in his eyes.

Soft music filled the evening as Yusef played a simple melody. Olena turned her attention to him, enthralled by the movements of his fingers as they plucked deftly at the strings of his instrument. He really was a man of many talents.

As if feeling her eyes on him, Yusef turned to her, not breaking the song as he winked in her direction. Her heart skipped a little as she blushed and looked away. Her glass was empty and so she couldn’t hide her face in a drink, as she had done all night when Yusef’s heated gaze found her.

Olena unconsciously rubbed her arm. It didn’t hurt anymore but she could feel the thin scar through the cotton shirt. Maybe if she had been left to suffer through the healing, her resolve against her handsome, barbaric husband would have been stronger. Time drifted under the melody. The song did not seem to end, but morphed from one tune into another, pulling emotions from her. The liquor relaxed her body and she simply stared at his strumming fingers. Memories cascaded through her thoughts, strange flashes of her life.

Cordele stretched and yawned. Olena knew they were going to leave soon. Almost in a panic, she wanted to stop them, but she couldn’t think of a single excuse to make them stay.

“Firebird,” Agro began. “Thank you for inviting us, but I think I should get my lovely wife home to bed.”

Cordele yawned again, nodding in agreement. “It was a divine evening.”

Yusef’s song finished and he stood. He kicked out the fire pit. Olena grew more nervous. She had seen the look in her husband’s eyes all night. He was going to want to finish what they started in the kitchen. She couldn’t let that happen.

Yusef said his polite goodbyes as the couple took their leave, arm in arm. Olena dutifully invited them back sometime. They waved, saying they would love it. Cordele’s head leaned against Agro’s shoulder and he swept her into his arms and carried her down the path with ease. She heard the woman’s soft laugh as Cordele was hugged to her husband’s chest.

Olena watched them leave.

“Well, I’m a little tired myself,” she lied when they were alone, forcing a yawn, though she was hardly sleepy. “I think I’m going to go get some sleep.”

Yusef smiled as she walked into the house. When she glanced back, she saw him finish smothering the fire and, grabbing the gittern, he moved to follow her inside. She quickened her pace, looking over her shoulder. Latching the door behind him, he set the instrument on the couch and left it as he moved to follow her.

The oddly seducing call of his music stayed in her head, pursuing her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, though it wasn’t necessary. She saw the intent clearly in his gaze. When his eyes flashed gold to hint at his shifter abilities, her heart leapt to dangerous speeds. His beastly side excited her. Desire warmed her blood. He let his eyes shift again, swirling with liquid gold, as if knowing what it did to her.

“I’m going to pick up where we left off.” Slowly, he took his tunic from his shoulders and tossed it aside as he stalked her.

“I’m too tired.” Even as she said it, she knew this was a man who wouldn’t be dissuaded with words. Her heart raced. “Maybe we should wait until another time.”

His nostrils flared slightly as he inhaled. “Your body says otherwise.”

Olena shivered. Now that wasn’t fair. “I drank too much.”

“And yet you do not appear to be impaired.”

She backed up as he came for her, realizing too late that he had forced her into the bedroom. She glanced around in panic, moving away from the bed.

“You’re nothing but a race of sexually charged men,” she said in dismay, trying to stop him with words but ready to fight off his pounce. Her legs shook. “Invest in a pleasure droid or something, would you?”

That brought a dangerous smirk to his face. “You didn’t seem to mind my attentions at the festival or this afternoon in the kitchen. In fact, I think you actually begged me to —”

“I was drugged at the festival,” she defended weakly. She swayed, tipsy from drinking. “I didn’t —”

“I thought you said you knew what we were doing and could fight the drug.” His tone indicated he thought this was a game and his expression said he had no problem playing the hunter. She tried to deny him, but her body ached for his with each and every tingling nerve. Her pussy called to him, begging even when her lips would not.

“I was faking it,” she lied. Yusef laughed. Olena’s hand went automatically to her hair searching for the firefly pin. He laughed harder.

“You didn’t think I would let you have that back after what you did, did you?” He shook his head, his hair splaying over his shoulders.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t need it. You couldn’t make me feel anything for you if you tried.” The words were a last resort and she hoped he would back down. She really should have known better. His eyes lit in delight. It was too late to take the words back. The challenge had been issued and he accepted it enthusiastically.

Olena jerked back as he sprang forward with a supernatural speed to lift her into his embrace. Her feet dangled off the floor. Her arms pressed into her sides. She struggled to become free but he was too strong. He let her feel the physical power he had over her, let the press of his erection mold confidently into her soft thigh. Her nipples hardened against his chest.

Don’t let him kiss you. Don’t let him kiss you, her mind chanted. Her lashes dipped over her eyes. Don’t let him ki—oh.

Blast.

Yusef’s lips took hers in rough possession, stealing her breath. Her battle was lost the moment she tasted him. She returned his kiss in full force, without hesitation, groaning her aching need into his mouth. She found a hold in his hair, dipping her fingers into the softness of his locks. He smelled like wood smoke, tasted like mint and felt every inch of hard man.

Oh how easily her defenses crumbled to him. As Olena melted into his arms, he set her down on the floor. Her mind might hate her for it, but her body was all his and he clearly had every intention of staking full claim. She ran her hands to explore his chest, tweaked her fingers over his nipples.

“I need you now.” He growled a low, barbaric, animalistic sound of domination and appreciation. Before she comprehended what was happening, Yusef had worked her clothes from her body, throwing her shirt and pooling her pants around her ankles. He moved his fingers to her moist center, spreading her open so he could test her. She was more than ready for him and the discovery made his actions aggressive in response.

Her hips bucked against him and her eyes grew wide in shock at the sensations he stirred with just his hand. Emboldened as her fingers roamed over his neck for support, he freed her mouth so he could incinerate her breasts with kisses. Her head fell back and she arched into his expertly sucking lips. He held her to him, licking the sensitive tips, making her quiver beneath the stroking of his hand.

Olena let her hands roam every inch of his body, his back and strong arms, his chest, neck and stomach. Hitting the barrier of his pants, she searched eagerly for the ties to free him and worked the material from his hips.

Yusef growled and did not slow his assault. As her hand grabbed hold of his arousal, he slipped a finger inside her. She cried out weakly, squeezing him painfully tight in surprise. He tried to pull back, as if wanting to study her face. She let go of him only to grip his head to her chest, as she rode his finger.

“Yusef.” Olena panted hard. She needed him to slow so she could focus.

He took his fingers from her and lifted her by her ass, firmly squeezing the cheeks as he lifted her up. Her eyes opened as she landed on the top of the dresser.

Across the room she saw his strong ass and legs in the mirror. The length of his black hair fell over his commanding shoulders as his face buried in her chest. She stared at his reflection, liking the way his muscles flexed when he moved. His hips artfully slipped between her thighs, forcing her legs to spread.

“Ah,” she moaned, a soft feminine cry of approval and submission. Her head tilted back, spilling her hair over her shoulders. She grabbed his arms. He grabbed her hips, forcing her forward as he prepared to enter her.

“Tell me your name,” Yusef demanded hoarsely, stopping his kisses to listen for her answer. “I must have it.”

“Olena,” she said, unable to stop the whisper of honesty and too far gone with desire to care. His body was poised on the brink of conquering her. His ready cock aimed for possession.

“Tell me you want me,” he commanded, edging to the opening of her sex. “Admit that you want me.”

Olena stiffened. A thin shred of sanity enveloped her at the request. Her body fought the clarity of her mind, but he was demanding an answer. It was an answer she couldn’t give.

His erection pressed intimately to her opening. She became scared, never having let things get this far before. She could feel his hard tip digging slowly into her pussy. It was too fast. What was she doing? She needed time to think, to reason. This was insanity. He was going to hurt her with his size. Horror stories, told to her by her pirate father, came to mind in a rush.

Just then, her hand fell on the dresser. She felt the bump of his carving knife. Her mind latched onto the most familiar response—fighting. She gripped the handle of the small blade. Her chest heaving, she lifted it to his manhood. She had to buy herself some time, time to think and reason these strange feelings out.

“No,” she ground out. “I don’t want you.”

Yusef stiffened. Her chest heaved for air and her breasts rose and fell before his astonished eyes. The blade hand quivered. She accidentally nicked him on the side of his shaft. He pulled back defensively, getting his most sensitive area away from her attack. He looked down and she followed his gaze to his arousal. Blood trickled where she had cut him. In an instant, rage overtook the passion in his expression.

Olena stared at him wide-eyed from the dresser top. Her eyes burned with tears she couldn’t shed. She was unable to move. Her body still stung with desire from his touch.

Shifting, Yusef went straight for her. His body hardened with the protective armor of his dragon flesh. His brow pulled forward over his eyes and his gaze glinted with the dangerous golden fire of his outrage.

She wielded the blade in automatic defense. It scraped against the thick breastplate of his shifted skin, but did little harm. Wrenching the blade from her hand, he tossed it aside. Then, taking her up, he threw her onto the bed.

Olena landed, knocking her head on the carved headboard. She blinked, blindly trying to scurry off the other side, away from him. He pounced on top of her. She screamed, wildly thrashing against his strong hold. It was no use, she couldn’t free herself. Tears filled her eyes, shaming her as they ran fearfully over her cheeks.

Yusef growled at her. His talons ripped the pillowcase near her head, spreading feathers over her sweating body. They stuck to her flesh. Grabbing the strips, he tied her hands to the bed.

Olena trembled but refused to scream. He was too powerful to fight.

“Please, Yusef,” she whispered, desperate and scared and trying very hard not to show it. “Please don’t do this.”

He shifted back at her whimpering words, but his human form was no less threatening than his Draig one had been. His hard expression bore into her. “I wouldn’t take you now if you begged me to, wife.”

Olena gasped at the hatred that she read in his eyes. She felt his cooling blood smear along her thigh. She weakly worked her hands to loosen her restraints. It was no use, they were too tight.

“What will you do?” Olena asked. To her amazement, he stayed true to his word and got off her. She watched him, stunned.

“I’ll do what the law requires me to do,” Yusef said, ignoring the cut on his bloody member. “You are in chastisement, Olena, if that is even your real name.”

Whatever this chastisement was, it didn’t sound pleasant at all. At least not the way he spat it at her.

“What will you do?” Her tone wavered when he continued to stare at her naked form. At that moment, her body didn’t seem to be bringing him pleasure.

“Law requires that I punish you. If I don’t, the royalty you love so much will have to decide a fitting punishment for you in my stead.” Turning, Yusef grabbed his pants and jerked them on with angry, stiff movements. “They might have been more lenient on you, until they heard the reports about your opinions of them.”

“What is this chastisement?” she asked.

“You will have to obey everything I say.”

“And if I don’t?”

His jaw hardened at the question. “You die.”

“You mean I’m a slave,” she said in growing alarm, as he walked out the door.

Olena’s eyes rolled in her head as she was left alone. Her feet dug into the mattress to push up. Her limbs shook violently as she worked her mouth to gnaw at her wrists. It was high time she got off this forsaken planet.

Chapter 14

You mean I’m a slave.

Yusef heard her whimper and glanced back as the door shut between them. The words, so unlike her voice, brought him up short. In that moment he almost relented completely. He saw the scared eyes of a woman staring out at him from her emerald gaze—vulnerable and afraid.

Attacking a husband was bad enough, but attacking a prince? Yusef knew it was not likely his family would choose death for her because she didn’t know who he was, but she didn’t need to know that. Let her fear for her life for now. The king and queen would more than likely concede to anything he planned.

Unable to face her, with the turbulent mix of outrage and denied passion churning through him, he closed his eyes and hurried out of the house. He had no intention of taking an unwilling or treacherous woman into his bed. He needed time to cool down and to think logically before he did something he regretted. And, more embarrassingly, he had to tend to his wound.

He stormed along the path to the village, barefoot and bare-chested. It was dark and the village was quiet, so none witnessed his ascent to the palace. He left Olena tied to the bed, not knowing what else he could do with her.

The wound to his pride was much larger than the wound to his cock, but he thought it best to tend to the latter. He grimaced darkly. It wasn’t exactly the area he wanted an infection setting in.

What the hell was wrong with his wife? She had wanted him. He was so sure of it. Her reaction to him had been real. Or had it? Her wetness against his hand had been real. The heat in her and the scent of her body’s longing had been real enough, too. Women couldn’t fake things like that. Was he so blinded by his own passion for her that he’d missed something?

Slipping through the raised gate, he ignored the guard who stood to salute him. He strode down the passageway, stopping at the medical wing. Grabbing a laser off the shelf, he ignored the sleeping woman at the front desk. Quietly going to the back room, he lowered his pants and sealed his wound up. It stung horribly, but he didn’t pay it any mind, as he left the laser where he’d found it, and went in search of his father.

He didn’t have to look for long. The king was in his royal office, looking over a stack of papers. Glancing up, he was clearly surprised to see his son at the palace.

“Yusef, it’s good…” the king began, but the greeting died when he saw his son’s dark look and half-naked state.

“I came to inform you that my wife, whose name may or may not be Olena, is sentenced to chastisement,” Yusef said, using the more comfortable feel of their native tongue.

“Chastisement?” the king gasped, answering in kind. He stood from his desk and came around it to study his son. “She attacked you? She tried to harm you?”

Yusef nodded wearily.

The king frowned in worry as his eyes turned sad. “Have the gods cursed you with…with a touched bride, my son?”

Yusef laughed, the sound bitter. “No, she is very much sane, father.”

“Well, that’s something at least,” the king said in gruff relief. “What happened?”

Yusef growled and took a seat. Resting his wrist lightly over his knee, he waited for his father to sit back down behind his desk. “She turned my carving blade against me.”

“And I assume she drew blood if she is in chastisement. Could it have been an accident? Maybe she did not know you were there.”

Yusef grimaced. “She took it to my erection while we… It was no mistake.”

The king cleared his throat, undoubtedly knowing how difficult such an admission was for his son. It would be for any man.

“Was she, ah, perhaps playing a game? She seemed very spirited,” King Llyr suggested. “Spirited women are known for their…bedroom mischief.”

“It was no game.”

“Was she scared?”

“I didn’t smell fear on her,” Yusef said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Although, that hadn’t been the particular scent he was looking for at the time. “I did smell desire for me—potently. But she turned. I don’t know what caused it. I doubt it was fear. That little firebird is afraid of nothing.”

“By royal decree, it is decided,” the king said as a mere formality. “I agree to leave her in chastisement as long as you see fit.”

Yusef nodded. “It will be until she admits she wants me as I want her.”

“A good plan,” the king said, pressing his fingers to his lips. He suddenly smiled. “The sexual tension might be what she needs to bring her around.”

Yusef’s body lurched despite himself. Such a punishment would undoubtedly be worse for him than for her.

“I’ll inform your brothers,” Llyr said, “but this will go nowhere else. I see no reason to tell your cousins or the council elders.”

Yusef nodded in appreciation, knowing law stated that all the royal males of age had to know of such things. He was sure he was in for a few good-natured jibes at the hands of his brothers, but he didn’t care at the moment.

“I plan on having a celebration in about a week to coronate the princesses. There have been rumors our brides have not been seen within the palace. Your cousins have their own gamut of bad luck in marriage. Your brothers are faced with difficulties. People are beginning to wonder and doubt. I’ve heard reports from the elders that they want to stop all Galaxy Brides trade. As imperfect as the system is, we need women to come to this planet. Our only other options are to travel offworld and kidnap them, or pray to the gods to crash ships every year filled with unmated women. It’s not like the days of our ancestors where we could attack, take, and hide. Offworld forced procurement means risking exposure of who we are as dragon-shifters. Then we’ll have the Federation trying to recruit our men. With the threat of battle escalating with the Var onworld, we can’t spare the men that the Federation will try to conscript into service.”

“Father,” Yusef interrupted. “I know all this. What is your point?”

“I fear the Var have spies within our walls. We need to keep up the appearances of being a united family. I need the noble marriages to settle and produce children. I need the people to believe that the system with Galaxy Brides still works.”

“My bride is stubborn,” Yusef said. “I do not know if a week is enough time to make her behave. You saw how defiant she can be, and she hates royalty with a readily voiced passion. Bringing her out in public might do our reputation more harm than good.”

“I understand,” the king said thoughtfully. “As long as your other brothers can get their brides to come around, yours can be excused. All saw how she bled on the morning of your wedding. I’ll have your mother make something up and spread the rumor through the maids. At least those gossiping girls are good for something. Give me a manservant anytime over a bunch of chattering women. With all the headaches they cause, I can see why our genetics weeded them out.”

Yusef chuckled. It was an old joke, but still extremely fitting.

“Are you staying in your wing tonight?” the king asked.

“No.” He felt somewhat better after speaking to his father. “I’ll go back to the outpost. I have Olena tied to a bed. She may be a bit angry right now and I don’t want her screaming and waking the neighbors.”

The king gave a small laugh. “Fair enough. I know you’ll deal with it fairly. You’ve always had a level head son. It works fairly well with your hot temper.”

Yusef was exhausted when he arrived home. He listened to the bedroom through the door. All was quiet. He hesitated, wondering if he should just leave it alone for the night. Then, unable to stop himself from checking on her to make sure she was unharmed, he went to the door.

Knocking lightly, he called, “Olena?”

He was answered by silence.

“Olena?” He pushed open the door and looked at the bed, expecting her to be there. She was gone. His heart skidded to a stop. Her restraints looked as if they had been chewed through.

Seeing dots of blood on the floor, he frowned. He instantly went forward and dipped his fingers into the drying spots. Rubbing his fingers, he sniffed. It was hers.

Fear gripped him and he shifted, running with all his supernatural speed out the back patio. He picked up her scent faintly on the wind. She had been gone for some time. Dashing into the forest, he ran down the red earthen path, flying past the east pond. His bare feet sped over the crushed leaves of the forest floor. His eyes, enhanced in the form of Draig, scanned through the trees, searching her out.

She was nowhere to be found.

Chapter 15

Olena crouched low against the tree trunk, rubbing dirt on her skin to mask her scent. The dusky colored night provided little light to see in the dense forest, and she wasn’t sure how far she could travel before Yusef arrived home from wherever he’d gone. It was possible she ran toward him even now.

She stood again and ran down the path. Each time her lungs filled, a sharp pain twinged her side. Her weakened body wouldn’t be able to run much further before she collapsed. It hadn’t helped that she’d stepped on the carving knife in her haste to get out of the bedroom, cutting her foot. She’d tried to grind dirt into the wound to stop the smell of blood.

A dark growl resounded behind her on the path, sounding suspiciously like her name. Yusef hunted her. The same traits in him that aroused her now were working against her. Shifter eyes and ears were unfairly tuned to the environment. He knew this terrain. She didn’t.

Olena looked around wildly before diving into the brush and crawling behind a large tree. He came up the path. She gripped the rough bark, hiding from view. She held her breath, trying not to move lest he hear her. Closing her eyes tightly, she swore she’d never be a man’s slave again.

Olena waited a long time, pressed against the tree, hugging it because she was too afraid to move. Only when her arms ached to the point she could no longer lift them, did she collapse on the ground. Though her body was weary, she couldn’t stay this close to the path. She couldn’t risk Yusef making another pass by her.

Desperate, she clutched handfuls of mud and rubbed it into her already covered skin. Hopefully it would mask her scent long enough until she could figure out what to do. She’d never expected Yusef to turn like he did—from caring husband to slave master. When he didn’t get his way, his nature had shifted as easily as his body. But she should have expected it. Hadn’t Jack always said men only wanted one thing from her—her complete and utter submission?

Seeing a low branch, she went for it and climbed, working her way higher into a tree. She ignored her sore body and tired mind. Finding a particularly large perch, she rested on the branch against the trunk, high off the ground. She closed her eyes, taking what little rest she could. Her plan would be to wait out the dusk. Then, when her body was stronger from sleep, she would move on.

Yusef ran nearly ten miles knowing there was no way she could have gotten any further than that with the time she had been afforded, especially since she was bleeding. To his relief, he didn’t detect any Var cat-shifters within the trees as he had first suspected and feared.

It was nearly morning and he knew the village would be waking in a few hours. Turning back, he took his time backtracking. He sniffed the air, trying to get even the faintest hint of where she’d gone. He’d lost her scent completely about three miles in, only to pick it up and lose it once more.

Jogging, barely out of breath, he shifted back to human form. His eyes looked through the darkness for her, scanning the endless trunks of trees. He hated to do it, but he needed to get help. There was too much forest for him to search alone. Picking up his pace, he made the trek home.

Olena was trapped. It was dark, so dark in the tight cargo port. Suddenly, little fingers came through her cage’s grating. They were so tiny, those hands, just like hers. Her body was cramped and hurt so badly. They only let them out once a day to relieve themselves or else the cargo would smell too bad. It was impossible to stand in the little cage. They had been there for months, crunched in those little containers, stacked on top of each other.

Twisting around, she heard crying. The tears were nothing new in this hellish place. She always heard crying. There were so many children trapped in the crates. Soon the man with the needle would come to poke them with it, shutting them up when he could take their tears no more.

“Olena,” came a faint call, followed by a sniff and a whimper. “Olena?”

Olena continued to twist, trying to touch the little hand. When she managed to get around, she felt for the fingers. They were as cold as ice.

“Sage?” Olena squinted into the darkness to find her sister. A face pressed into the grate. It was an exact replica of her face staring back at her as if from a mirror.

“Olena,” Sage whimpered. “I’m scared.”

Olena nodded, too afraid to speak. She couldn’t remember very well what happened next, not even in her dreams. She had only been five. Sage must have started to cry because the man came with his needle.

“Quiet!” he’d yelled in his stiff voice, slamming her sister’s cage.

Sage cried louder, screeching in exhaustion and fear.

“I said quiet!” the man bellowed.

He must have been drinking, because Olena remember the smell of him. It was the smell of ale coming from an unclean body, stale liquor curling from his pores. When he moved to hit the cage, he missed and tripped over his feet.

Sage screamed louder in fright. Suddenly, all the children started screaming at the top of their lungs. Sage’s cold fingers dug desperately at the grate, trying to get to her sister through the unforgiving metal.

Olena held quiet, clutching desperately to her sister’s hand, whispering to Sage to be quiet, not to yell. The man in the black coat hollered for silence but the other children wouldn’t stop. Their voices rose like a chorus of horror—echoing for an eternity in her memory.

“Olena,” Sage whined fearfully.

Sage’s cage opened and she was torn from Olena’s five year old hands. A loud crash sounded and then deadly silence. The children stopped screaming. All she heard was her heart beating in her ears.

The man stumbled off. Someone sniffed to her right. Slowly, Olena edged around.

“Sage,” she had called weakly when the man was gone. Her sister never answered, would never answer her call again. When Olena finally crawled to the front of the gate, she saw Sage’s lifeless eyes staring back at her. She’d been thrown into the sharp hook on the metal wall, dying instantly.

Olena’s eyes jerked open with a cry. Her body flailed, as she forgot where she was. The nightmares hadn’t felt that real for a long time. Screaming, she realized she was falling from the tree limb. Her arms and legs flailed in the air. It did no good. She landed on the ground with a heavy thud.

Yusef heard the bloodcurdling scream and his heart nearly stopped. Turning, he shifted once more and ran full tilt into forest, following the direction of the sound. It didn’t take him long to discover Olena on the ground. Her eyes rolled but she did look at him.

He was surprised when she recognized him in his Draig form, as she said softly, “Knight.”

She was covered in dried mud from head to toe. That was why he could only get faint traces of her scent. She had masked herself with the forest. Even as he cursed her, he bowed to her cunning mind. Stepping over crushed leaves and yellow ferns, he kneeled by her side. Her arm was broken, the bone jutting out from her skin.

She stiffened when he pushed her hair from her face. The red flames were muted by the red mud of the earth. Yusef shifted to human form and lifted her up. “You foolish woman.”

He swore he heard her chuckle in response.

“You won this round, dragon, but I’ll escape you.” Her voice was strained. She fought against the pain in her arm as he slowed to step over a fallen log in his way. Gritting her teeth, she said, “I’ll be no man’s slave.”

“No, Olena,” he swore, as he carried her to the path. She grunted in pain, blacking out. “You will never be my slave, but you will never escape me. You are mine.”

Tal placed his hands on his hips, eyeing the mud caked woman. He’d given her something to help her sleep while he set her bone. Her arm was fixed and the bleeding stopped. With little else to do, he put it into a sling and said she would recover.

Setting his medic kit on the dresser, he turned to Yusef and said, “I’m leaving this here for emergencies. There is a spare kit at the palace. With your accident-prone wife, I suspect you’ll need it.”

Yusef nodded his thanks.

“As you to, Prince Yusef, you must get some rest,” Tal said. “This exhaustion won’t do you any good.”

Yusef glanced at his wife to see if she heard the title. She was asleep and realizing she couldn’t speak their language anyway, he relaxed. “I will, just as soon as I get her cleaned up.”

“Fine,” the medic said. “I, myself, am going back to bed. Do you want me to report this for you?”

“No,” Yusef said. “My parents have enough to do right now. I’ll tell them of it later and I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone else.”

“Can’t. I will not share my patient’s private information. Besides, I am loyal to your family, Draea Anwealda.”

“Draea Anw…?” Olena mumbled, blinking tired eyes. Caught in the haze of pill induced sleep, she asked. “What is that?”

“Dragon Lord,” Tal answered, matter-of-factly. “It’s what we call him and his brothers.”

Olena blinked, looking at Tal and then to Yusef. She yawned, her eyes drifting, “I didn’t know you had brothers.”

She was again out.

Tal frowned at Yusef.

“She must be out of it,” he lied, urging the man politely to the door.

“That’s understandable,” Tal said. “With as much as she’s been through lately, a bit of bed rest won’t hurt her one bit.”

Yusef let Tal out of the house, thanking him for his loyalty and for the medic unit. It would undoubtedly come in handy.

When he went back to the bedroom, Olena was asleep. He was too tired from his night of searching and worrying to bathe her. So, instead, he crawled into the bed next to her. He pulled the covers over their bodies and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her was the only way he could guarantee she wouldn’t try to leave him again.

Closing his eyes, he kissed her dirty temple. She jerked and mumbled incoherently. He sighed, not opening his eyes, as he whispered, “Whatever am I going to do with you, firebird?”

Chapter 16

When Yusef awoke late that afternoon, Olena was still sleeping in his arms. He crawled out of bed to check her with the handheld medical unit. For a moment, he considered carrying her to the palace to use the medical booth. In reality there probably wasn’t much the medical booth could do that the handheld hadn’t already done. Her blood levels were fine considering her state. He sighed in relief.

She awakened him from napping a few times during the day as she tossed in her nightmares. He frowned to think of it. Calling up to the palace on the intercom, he asked his mother to send a maid down to clean the house and cook dinner. Mede inquired after his marriage. By her tone, Yusef guessed his father had told her what had happened. He lied and said everything was going well. She seemed relieved to hear it.

Then, crossing the hall to his bathroom, he ignored the waterfall style shower in the corner as he began filling the porcelain bath with warm water. It was a large tub, not as pleasant as a natural hot spring, but it had fixtures that jetted hot streams of water and was big enough to fit both him and Olena.

As the water ran, he went back to the bedroom. Olena hadn’t moved. Gently, he lifted her up and stripped her of her dirty clothes. Then, as she lay there naked, he gathered the clothing and put it in a pile by the door. Next, he stripped his own clothes and set them atop her dirty ones. He grabbed fresh clothes for both of them, put them in the bathroom, shut off the water and went back to gather his wife.

As he carried her in his arms, she stirred. Blinking in confusion, she tried to look around. Her movements were still weak.

“Shh,” he whispered when she would speak. “We’re just going to take a bath, nothing else.”

She must have believed him because she settled into his arms and closed her eyes. Yusef carried her to the tub, shaking her gently so she’d wake up.

“Try to stand for a moment,” he urged, setting her on her feet in the water. Steadying her, he was careful of her arm, which he had taken out of the sling. He stepped in behind her and slowly lowered her with him into the water.

Dazed, she looked at him, her lashes fluttering lightly. Her mind would be numbed by the medicine the medic had given her. She didn’t fight him, as he settled back and pulled her to sit between his legs. Though she was beautiful, there was nothing passionate about the way he held her. Even he wasn’t such a monster to think about sex at such a time. Marriage wasn’t only about slaking desires. Although, that was a benefit he would like to have someday.

“Olena, can you wake up?” he asked. She murmured contentedly and opened her tired eyes. “I’m just going to help you wash your hair. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know.” Her eyes closed once more.

Yusef’s heart sang at the gentle admission. It was something at least.

He gently washed the dirt from her hair and then his. Rinsing was awkward, but he managed. Next he rubbed her skin clean and leaned to pull the drain plug with his toes.

Looking at him, with big emerald eyes, she said, “Not yet. Can’t we sit in here awhile longer?”

How could he not comply with such a simple request? He drained the dirty water and slowly refilled the bath with fresh, adding bubbles to it in an attempt to please her. She smiled, not opening her eyes. When he leaned to turn off the water, he felt her snuggle into him.

“Olena,” he whispered against her wet hair.

“Mm?”

“Who’s Sage?” She’d been saying the name over and over in her sleep.

“My twin,” Olena answered, for once appearing not to have an internal debate as to whether she should do so. Her legs absently stirred against his as she burrowed deeper into his protective embrace. “She’s dead.”

He stiffened, unable to imagine losing one of his brothers. He stroked her temple and she seemed to enjoy it, because she nestled and turned into his chest to lay her cheek by his heart. She held onto his neck, absently stroking the raven locks with her fingers. Her other hand skimmed close to his waist. His body stirred at the caress, but he forced his passion to behave.

“What happened to her?” he asked softly, desperate to know anything about her. He rubbed his hand over her back, rubbing her wet skin beneath his palm as he tried to relax her tired muscles. She moaned in contentment as he glided his fingers over a hip.

“My father traded us for a cheap drug and to pay off a gambling debt about a month after our fifth birthday. We were sold into slavery.” She stirred, laughing bitterly. “Damned drug couldn’t have gotten him very high. It was a cheap knockoff of the good stuff. I tried it some years later. It didn’t do a blasted thing.”

“And that’s how Sage died, as a slave?” Yusef stiffened at the admission. He could feel her pain, but he couldn’t keep from asking. He might never get another opportunity to have her open up like this.

“No,” she murmured, half awake, half asleep. “The man with the needle threw her into the wall because the other children were crying.”

“Did anything happen to the man with the needle?”

She shuddered under his palm and he stroked her hair. She froze, keeping her fingers on his hair, before gently moving her hand to feel his heartbeat.

“He was the first man I ever killed.” Olena sighed, as if feeling comfort in his nearness. A soft moan escaped her. He massaged her lower back and her words tumbled forth without hesitation. “I was ten. Jack had taken me in and showed me how.”

Ten? By all that was sacred!

Yusef frowned. Not even their warriors in training learned to kill at the age of ten.

“Jack bought you as a slave?”

“No, he was a pirate. He raided the ship of the man who bought me. He was trying to sleep with me when Jack found us. He killed the man and took me in. He was my new father before he died. He said he liked my spirit ‘cause I didn’t even cry when he stabbed that man and got blood all over my body. He said I would be a great space pirate and he was right. I’m one of the best. Jack left me his crew.”

I married a pirate?

That was almost harder to believe than the story of her killing a man at the age of ten. He thought of the gun and the ID’s. Suddenly, all her rambling nightmares made sense. There was no other possible explanation for it. His wife was a pirate. With her nestled so trustingly in his arms, her voice a soft murmur against his chest, he knew she couldn’t have thought to lie. She’d probably never remember any of this.

“I won’t let any of them hurt you.” His grip on her tightened. “I won’t let them take you away. You’re safe here.”

Olena snuggled against him. “You’ll have no choice, Yusef. If the demons come for me, you won’t be given a choice.”

Yusef would have denied the claim a million times over if he thought it would do any good. He was never given the chance. The servant his mother had sent was knocking at the front door. Reaching behind his head, he pushed the intercom button to tell the man to come in. He had a whole cleaning crew with him and they set to work tidying his house.

By the time he finished giving instructions over the intercom, Olena was fast asleep in the tub. The simple conversation had worn her out completely.

Yusef sat for a long time, holding her and contemplating what she had said. Her words only brought him more questions he couldn’t answer on his own. If she was a pirate, then why was she here? Why did she come to be a bride? Was she trying to escape her former life? Was she running?

Somehow, he managed to get them both out of the water and dried off. Dressing was another slow-going affair as was combing their hair. Then, lifting her back in his arms, he pulled her close to his chest and pretended to ignore the servants who watched the couple cross over to the freshly cleaned bedroom.

Yusef, aware of their eyes on him and mindful of what his father had said about the Var spies, propped her arm over his shoulder. She smiled and made a noise of contentment. Lightly, he kissed her lips and she moaned. She stirred, holding the back of his head. The servants chuckled quietly to see the loving interplay between the prince and princess.

Closing the door behind him, Yusef set his wife on the bed. She blinked and her hand reached for him when he pulled back. Her expression was soft as he took her hand in his.

“Stay with me, knight.” She yawned, barely waking enough to make the request. “Just stay.”

Urging him beside her, Olena rolled over and snuggled her back into his chest. She held his arm around her waist, her fingers interlocking with his.

Yusef sighed, content to hold her while she slept. Her wet hair tickled his face. His stomach growled as he smelled the food being prepared in the kitchen. He ignored his own discomfort, choosing instead to stay by her side.

Yusef heard the servants leave and knew they were again alone in the house. Her flaming red hair had curled around her temples in little ringlets, waving beautifully down her back. Her cheeks were a wonderful sleep-warmed hue of pink.

“I could look at you forever,” he whispered, “and I could hold you even longer.”

Olena slept contentedly, oblivious of everything he’d done for her.

Chapter 17

“What do you think you are doing?” Olena was wide awake, her head clear as she stared accusingly at Yusef. Her tone had come out deadly hard in her uneasiness. She fought the hold on her waist and he lifted his arm to let her go. She moved away from him, trying to get away by inching to the far end of the bed.

She tried to sit up and flinched when she used her bad arm. Cradling it to her chest, her expression darkened. The soft cotton of her tight black shirt was crumpled but intact. Staring at a wrinkle, she tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered running away from him. She remembered hiding. She remembered falling. The rest was vague, part dream world, part reality—part nightmare, part sweet agony. The reality wasn’t there. She couldn’t find the right memories.

Finally, she turned to look at him. “What did you do to me?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yusef said, growing a little hard at the accusations. “I’ve been taking care of you.”

Her lips pressed together. “I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I can take care of myself.”

His brow rose in disbelief, as if to say, Can you now?

The look irritated her. She didn’t like how he made her feel. Before she met him her path had been so clear. She was a pirate, saved from child slavery. She knew just how bad the universes could be. It was the one dependable fact in her life. People, in general, could not be trusted, no matter which alien race they were descended from. Yes, she had her alliances. Yes, she had her crew. She earned their loyalty and they hers. It was a bond of necessity and as real as any family she could ever know. That was her reality.

This? Him? A husband? This man was a side trip into insanity.

“I’ve done fine so far,” Olena said, her voice not nearly as confident as she would like. She clutched her arm more firmly and tried to stand.

“You’d have been dead three times already if not for me and we have not been together even a week,” Yusef yelled, clearly frustrated with her. It was the first time he’d shown such high emotions.

Olena eyed him guardedly. What he said was true. He’d saved her life. But Jack had never taught her to apologize. Had never once said those simple words to her, or even within her hearing, so she wasn’t sure how to do it.

“I…” she began. Pressing her lips together, she merely nodded her thanks to him. She knew she didn’t look pleased, or grateful, or even angry. She just looked at him, studying his face. The words wouldn’t come, so she simply asked, “Why?”

“You are my wife,” Yusef answered, as if that one sentence would explain everything.

“You don’t owe me anything. I never asked you for anything,” Olena said carefully, almost defensively.

“I know, Olena.” Standing, Yusef scratched the back of his head.

“And I don’t owe you,” she insisted, trying to convince herself more than him. Jack would be so disappointed in her. The thought caused her to stifle any tenderness she felt for Yusef. Jack had saved her. Jack had avenged her. And when he left her the crew, he had told her he loved her without ever having to say the words. It might not be perfect, but it was all she had.

Yusef nodded, turning away from her.

“So I can go?” How come the thought of freedom didn’t sound appealing?

He turned to look at her. His eyes hardened. “No, you still have your chastisement to deal with. Law is law and I won’t break it. Whether you like it or not, wife, you chose to be with me and we are forever linked because of it. If you don’t like it, you have only yourself to blame. I am through trying to save you. It’s like you said. I don’t owe you a thing.”

Olena gasped and tears threatened her eyes. His words stung, but he left her alone in the room before she could respond. She was still tired and decided to lie back down on the bed before she made a fool of herself by dropping to the floor. It was late and she was in no shape to continue fighting with him. Her stomach ached in a way she couldn’t comprehend. It was a feeling of loss, so intense that it mixed the pain of her past with the pain of the present. Even when Yusef was unhappy with her, she wanted him. But it didn’t appear as if he wanted her anymore. He was wiping his hands of her. Hadn’t Jack always told her that a man’s attentions would wane, but a loyal crew would always remain constant so long as they were well paid?

“Take what you want, Olena, take it with both hands,” Jack had said to her more times than she could remember. He’d squinted in quiet pondering, eyes wrinkling out at the edges in lines so familiar to her even now. He would give a gruff sigh, before adding, “Because no one is ever going to hand you a damned thing—including me.”

Waking up in Yusef’s arms had been the first real feeling of contentment in her life and it scared the hell out of her. That’s why she had automatically reacted in outrage. She didn’t know how else to respond. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t readily see what was in it for the other guy. Her husband was a mystery.

Yusef shut the door behind him, closing her away from his sight. He didn’t want to see her right now. The pain was too unbearable. He was at a loss. He didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know how to please her, how to make her happy.

He was tired of this game of theirs. He wanted peace between them. All hope he’d felt at her drug induced softness was ripped away, leaving him bitter and very much alone. He’d wanted her from the first moment, had given part of his life to her, and she wanted nothing to do with him. She made that abundantly clear at every turn.

Then why did she choose him? She didn’t even think, just ripped off his mask and chose to be his wife—no hesitation. Was this just a game to her? Did she not understand that his whole life was now wrapped up in her? He couldn’t take it back, even if he wanted to. There would never be another woman for him. It was their way. When she broke the crystal, she broke any chance of him loving anyone but her. Even without the crystal sealing his fate, Yusef knew he would never have found anyone else. His wife was a mystery and he worried he would never solve her puzzle.

Chapter 18

“You have to be hungry,” Yusef said from the door to the bedroom. It was morning and neither of them had slept all that well. Olena eyed him cautiously and in turn he showed no emotion. His face hardened.

“What? Do you need your slave to cook for you?” She wasn’t sure why she tried to provoke him to anger. He didn’t take the bait.

“You’re not a slave,” he stated. “You are a wife.”

“Same difference,” Olena mumbled. Her stomach growled attesting to her own hunger.

“Think what you wish. Your chastisement begins now. Everything you need to make breakfast with is in the kitchen. Then I need you to clean the bathroom. The mud you covered yourself in is staining the tub.”

“When exactly does this chastisement end?” She did not like the idea of cleaning. When she was little, she had made her way cleaning Jack’s ship. She had sworn she would never have to clean another thing again. It looked as if she had been wrong.

“That depends on you.” By the look on her face, he thought it would be a long, long time coming.

“What is the aim of this chastisement? To get me to say I’m sorry for injuring your manly pride?” A fake pout came to her lips. “To get me to part my legs for you, dragon, so that you may have your way?”

“An apology for drawing your husband’s blood would be a beginning,” he allowed, still not falling for her provocation. “But the purpose is for you to realize what we have, and what you will lose if you were to actually do me harm. The purpose, firebird, is to repent for doing it, to admit you were wrong, that you were scared, and that you want me as I want you.”

“I didn’t want you. That was the whole point.”

“You did want me, Olena.” His gaze took her in, glinting with golden slivers. He came closer, stalking around the bed to tower over her. His tone was low as it rolled over her in its thick burring accent. “I smelled it on you. I felt it on my hand when I touched you. I heard it in your voice as you moaned my name, begging me to take you.”

Olena shivered at the bold words. Combined with the heated fire of his dark gray eyes, her desire for him aroused itself anew. He made a show of leaning forward to breathe deeply. She reddened in embarrassment and turned her eyes icily away to stare at the wall, knowing he was sensing her body’s treachery. He let his eyes flash golden. “Your body wants me even now.”

There was no use trying to deny it so she said nothing. Her words were stuck in her tight, dry throat anyway.

“Today you cook and clean.” Yusef pulled back as if nothing had happened between them. As he made his way around the bed, he said, “I’ll keep your work light with respect to your injury. But do not think for a moment that I won’t get more demanding should you slack in your duties.”

For good measure, she narrowed her eyes in resentment.

“Hate me if you wish, firebird.” He reached the door. “But remember, you did this to yourself.”

“Don’t do me any favors, dragon,” she yelled at his departing back.

Yusef didn’t answer her as he went to the patio door and stepped outside. At least she wasn’t calling him supernova or knight anymore. That was something. Even defiant and hardheaded, she was so ravishing it made him hurt. Not daring to touch her, at the risk of losing his hard won control, he’d chosen to walk away.

Her eyes had danced with their usual mischief. He knew the mischief was a disguise, but he couldn’t pry past it—not yet. He didn’t have the energy to try. For now, he would ignore it and hope that time would solve their issues.

Over the next several days, Olena cleaned things that didn’t need cleaning, she cooked every meal, and she did it all in silence. She also discovered that chastisement also meant she couldn’t leave the house or receive guests. Cordele stopped by once. Yusef told her that his wife was sick and sent her away. For Olena, who enjoyed an immense amount of freedom and loved the open air, the stifling prison walls of the house closed in on her until she wanted to scream. Telling herself that this was an adventure did help, at least for the first hour.

During that time Yusef was a silent warden, all but ignoring her. The only time he spoke was to give her the morning’s list of chores. Then, for the rest of the day, he pretended she wasn’t there. She wished she could dismiss him as easily. But, everywhere she looked, she saw him.

Once he received documents from a courier. They looked very official. She dusted around him trying to get peek at what they said. All she saw was his emblem of a dragon on the top, before he stood without comment. He took his work to the bedroom and shut the door. Her curiosity nearly drove her insane and she cleaned with a fury, doing more than she was told to.

It was like that every day.

More often than not, she’d stare at him, wanting him to touch her, aching for one of his tender smiles or gentle caresses. As time went on, she remembered him bathing her with tender hands and taking care of her. She recalled telling him about her past, but couldn’t be sure if she had done so. It was all so muddled it could have been a dream. He never once mentioned that he knew she was a pirate. Olena couldn’t really ask him if he knew, without giving herself away.

Pride and pride alone made her obey his terms of chastisement. She refused to let him get the better of her. It became a mission to see who would break first and Olena swore on Jack’s memory that it wouldn’t be her.

The only time she almost wavered was when Yusef had sat out on the patio, practicing his gittern. He’d left the patio door open. The sad music drifted softly to her on the breeze. Even though he played for himself, she pretended that it was for her. The melody made her ache in a way only music could. She didn’t go to him, instead testing out the rocking chair as she watched the door for movements of him. The curtain drifted slightly on the breeze and she would catch glimpses of the back of his head.

At night, he slept on the couch, leaving her to the bed. It was a sweet gesture—one Olena did not allow herself to read too much into. Nighttime was the hardest, when her body would fall into the warm comfort of the bed and sleep eluded her.

She imagined all the times Yusef had ever touched her in passion. His kisses, the feel of his body, it was all so very real. When she closed her eyes it was like he was right there, smiling at her in his devilishly handsome way, his eyes glistening like liquid gold. She’d wake up the next morning, drenched in sweat and aching from head to toe. The sweetness of those dreams was worse than the nightmares.

Chapter 19

Yusef watched his wife from the corner of his eye, poking a spoon into the soup she was preparing. He resisted the urge to take over. She wasn’t a great cook, but he never complained.

Sighing loudly, she tilted her head to the side in obvious boredom. With a hidden smile he thought her restless nature might actually lessen her resolve before her stubborn determination did. He almost felt bad for her as she lifted a handful of diced vegetables and tossed them apathetically into the boiling contents of the pot.

Before he could stop himself, Yusef stood and walked to the kitchen. He sat on a stool to watch her, almost laughing to hear her singing to herself. She sighed in between notes, tossing another vegetable piece into her creation. Her voice wasn’t bad, but her song was a brazen ballad praising the high skies, drunkenness, and debauchery. Undoubtedly, the tune was something she had learned from her pirate father. What was his name? Jack?

“And we sail the high skies,” plunk, “looking for gold,” plunk, plunk, “looking for treasures that never,” plunk, “grow old. The wind in our sails, lads, the stars at our feet,” plunk, “as we plunder for women, thick brown, and good mead,” ker-plunk, plunk, plunk.

Olena dusted her hands on her apron, as she watched the churning water.

“What’s thick brown?” Yusef asked when she just stared at the food, unmoving. A wave of her sadness washed over him.

Yusef closed his eyes. He felt her pain as if it was his own. She didn’t have to say it. They were joining, the bond between them growing, as real as his arm or leg. If she would only open up to him completely, she would be able to feel him the same way and the loneliness would leave her. Such was the way for his people.

Oh, but she was too stubborn.

She turned to him briefly. From her feelings, he thought she might be crying. Instead, mischief lined her eyes. He imagined the expression took much effort on her part.

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” she said turning back to the boiling water, keeping her tone even. “It isn’t polite.”

“I know. So what’s thick brown?”

Olena laughed softly to herself. “Beer.”

“Ah.” He’d heard her use some interesting terms in passing since he’d first met her. “Did Jack teach you that song?”

Olena stiffened before turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed and she forced a confused look to her face, trying to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “Who?”

Yusef had hoped if he gave her an opening to talk about her past, she would. He now saw that wasn’t going to be the case. “My mistake. I thought you had said your father’s name was Jack.”

“Oh, Jack.” She carelessly shrugged her shoulder. With a straight face, she lied, “He was more like an uncle. We weren’t very close. I barely knew him.”

“I see.” If he had to venture a guess, he would say that this Jack person had been her whole world before he died. A coldness filled him and he felt her pulling away behind the mask of her easy nature. The idea he was jealous of a dead pirate named Jack, because the man owned so much of his wife’s heart and loyalty, was not lost on him. Yusef doubted he had any of it.

“You’re speaking to me again.” Olena turned and grabbed two bowls, carelessly ladling the soup into them. She put one in front of him and leaned over the counter to eat. “Does this mean you give up and I am out of chastisement?”

She always does that, Yusef thought. Whenever the topic gets too serious, she tries to bait me into a fight. Not this time.

As if suddenly realizing she’d forgotten spoons, she turned around and grabbed a couple from a drawer.

“No.” Yusef took a hesitant bite. The soup was bland, a little undercooked, but edible. Hadn’t his wife ever learned about spices? Standing, he went to the cabinet and grabbed several spice containers. Olena watched him suspiciously.

He took the bowls, emptied them back in the pot and began seasoning.

Olena studied what he was doing. “If you don’t like my cooking, don’t eat it, but you don’t have to be rude.”

Yusef smiled and lifted the spoon. “Here, try this.”

She furrowed her brows but leaned forward to sip. The look on her face revealed that it tasted better than hers. “Fine, it’s better your way. But I never said I was a chef.”

“Why are you always so defensive? Did I say anything?” He was keenly aware of how close their bodies were. He’d almost gone insane the past several days, watching her bend over as she…by all that was sacred. Even the memory of it was agony. He didn’t dare think of it now, not with her so close.

“Why are you so stubborn?” she asked.

“Me?” He laughed, amazed. “You’re the one who won’t admit that you were wrong and you might actually like me just a little. That you’re attracted to me and can’t keep your hands off me no matter how hard you try.”

A small tremble of excitement started in Olena’s stomach and spread throughout her entire body. She tried to avert her gaze, but “That’s because I don’t like you and I’m not attracted to you. I…I think you’re ugly and…and you smell like…sweat.”

All right, Olena thought. So I am attracted to you, and you don’t smell like sweat, and you are the most handsome creature I have ever laid eyes on and…Ugh, curse you anyway, dragon.

Yusef smiled at her.

No. He was laughing at her.

“You are absolutely, positively the most unappealing man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Olena drew closer to his mouth with each enunciated word. She frowned and pulled back. Was she flirting with him? Stiffening, she waited to see how he would respond.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” she confirmed. “And I know you are a dragon, but that doesn’t mean you should have the breath of one.”

“So I have bad breath, too, do I?” Taking a step closer, he leaned his face close to hers.

All right, so his breath smells like mint. Think, Olena, think. No, stop staring at his mouth. This tactic’s not working. Whatever you do, don’t let him kiss you.

“While you’re listing all my fine qualities, are there any other complaints you would like to voice?” The words were low and sultry, giving her chills.

It was hard to concentrate with him so close, especially when his dark eyes were studying her so intently. He smelled so good. She wanted to run her hands through his hair and…

“No,” she said weakly, breathless. “That’s it.”

“So I take it you are not ready to apologize?”

Lifting her chin with a bravado she did not feel, she said, “No. I have to stand by my convictions. I am not in the least attracted to you and no matter what you do, I’ll never feel anything. When you touch me, it’s like…like, oh, I don’t know, having the dentist pull a perfectly good tooth without the numbing—unpleasant, irritating, and leaves you with a big hollow spot.”

“I think it’s time to go to the second stage of your chastisement,” he concluded, clearly not buying her denouncement.

Olena wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Second? Can’t we just forget about it and have soup?”

“I’m sorry.” He turned the burner on the stove off, never taking his eyes off of her. “The law is the law and no matter how distasteful you may find it…” Yusef didn’t finish.

Olena eyed the door, tempted to make a run for it. But to where? To another embarrassing accident in the forest? To another reason to have him save her life and put her in his debt?

How she longed for her crew. For a wide-open sea of stars with no planet in sight. For a good starship chase through and past the horizon. For the feeling of freedom and trails of stardust. Tears threatened and it took everything she had to hold them back. She was homesick.

“What’s the second punishment, knight?” she asked.

“Tsk, tsk.” His eyes flashed causing a wave of pleasure to warm her. His steps forced her to back away. “It isn’t punishment, firebird. It’s chastisement.”

Chapter 20

Olena took off across the floor, her bare feet pattering as she tried to reach the patio door. She almost made it too, before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air.

“Oh,” she screamed, struggling as Yusef drew her back into his chest and held tight. She tried to elbow him in the stomach. “Let me go, you stupid dragon!”

Yusef just laughed, as he hauled her kicking and screaming into the bedroom.

“I thought your kind didn’t rape.” In outrage, she flailed wildly to punch him, missing each time at her disadvantaged angle.

He threw her on the bed with a growl. She bounced on the mattress and stared up at him. His strength excited her even as it terrified. Blood rushed through her veins, only to be sped by his dark, piercing eyes as they shot into hers.

“Careful, wife, your words carry you too far.”

“What will you do?” She was too weak to move as she searched his face. Passion warred with survival instinct. She took a deep breath, excited by the sense of adventure she felt. Her life certainly hadn’t been boring since he strode into it.

“I’m going to make you face your passion,” he proclaimed as his gaze bore into her. “I’m tired of the lies and the games. There isn’t a translator invented that could decipher your true meaning in half the words you say. This should be simple to understand. We are married. You are destined to be my wife, and I your husband. I know you desire me as I desire you. I hear your heart beat quicken. I hear your breath catch. I see your eyes linger. And I feel the pull of our bodies as they strain to join.”

“No, I—”She vehemently shook her head in denial.

“Stop. I only need to know one thing from you right now. Do you take off your clothes or do I take them off for you?”

“I don—”

“I said stop,” Yusef ordered, louder. Her mouth snapped shut in surprise. “The only things you are allowed to say to me are that you are sorry for what you did and that you want me. Those are the two truths I would hear you admit. Do you understand?”

Her lips tightened and she glared.

“Do you understand?” He came to the edge of the bed.

Olena growled in response. There was so much promise in him, as if he knew she would easily succumb to his whims. And why wouldn’t he think that? In the past it had only taken a kiss and she was tearing off his clothes.

Well, not this time!

“I’m assuming that’s a yes.” He gave her a very domineering grin. She considered hitting him.

Even in her irritation, her chest heaved in excitement, anticipating the challenge he so boldly issued. Curse him for being right. She did want him. Against everything she’d ever known, she wanted him.

Yusef crawled forward on the bed, his eyes holding hers. Her lips parted, sucking in ragged, panting breaths. He crawled over her, holding himself above her on all fours.

Olena’s lips pressed tightly and she tried to knee his groin. His leg twisted to hold her down.

“I will kick back,” he warned. Olena let her leg drop.

Slowly, he reached forward. A sharpened talon grew from his finger as he reached for her. Olena’s mouth opened wide as she watched his hand. The dangerous claw touched at the base of her throat, lightly circling around the hollow he found there. Her eyes closed. She held perfectly still.

She liked the danger he presented when his eyes flashed and his body shifted. Her heart leapt in her chest, beating erratically as he drew his finger down. Snagging the cotton shirt, he pulled up, ripping the material in a long, slow tear. When he was finished, the shirt fell open to reveal her bare breasts.

Olena opened her eyes. He was licking his lips as he watched her chest rise and fall in rapid succession. She reached for her shirt.

“No,” he whispered as he took her wrists and pinned them together above her head. With his free hand, he made quick work of her shirt, tearing strips from it to tie her hands above her head to the bed. When he finished, he eyed his handiwork in satisfaction. “There.”

“I hate you.”

“Last chance, firebird.” He ignored her low words, as he brought his mouth down to her ear. “Tell me you want me.”

Her jaw lifted in defiance. Her lips pressed tightly shut.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he chuckled, reaching to nip at her ear.

Olena closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on despising him. It didn’t work. As soon as his lips touched her throat, she quivered.

He kissed his way down her neck, his touch light and airy against her flesh. He let his breath do most of the caressing. His mouth began a haphazard trek along her collarbone, over her shoulder to nip at her inner arm. She shivered in pleasure at the little surprise. Next, he moved down her sensitive side, taking his time. He journeyed across her flat stomach, touching her in ways she’d never imagined. Her body tensed and jerked beneath him.

It was agonizing torture and he had barely even begun to explore her. Olena gasped, arching her back as he made his way from her navel to the valley between her breasts.

Breathing hotly against an erect nipple, he asked, “Do you want me?”

She shook her head, denying him. She didn’t want him to ever stop.

Yusef drew back from her breast, leaving it untouched and wanting. His kisses continued, steaming against her flesh. He leaned back, reaching her hips. His hands were warm as he drew them along her waistband. Meeting in the middle, he untied the laces.

Olena watched him. He slowly pulled down her pants, pausing as he kissed one hipbone and then the other. Qurilixian fashion did not provide underwear and so he met with little resistance. Kissing and licking a hot, wet path, he crawled his way down her legs and drew the pants off her ankles.

“Tell me you want me.” His chest heaved and he threw the pants aside. His eyes devoured her.

She stubbornly refused, shaking her head violently against the pillow. She couldn’t speak. Her breath rasped out in heavy pants. Her throat worked as she tried to swallow.

This time when he touched her, he pressed more firmly to her skin. He ran his hand up her inner legs to her stiffening thighs. A slight moan came from her throat and she bit her lips to keep from crying out as his caress ran up her body. He moved around the curves of her breasts, ignoring the straining nipples.

Yusef worked his legs in between hers. His erection strained to be free of his clothing. Sweat glistened on her body as she tried to deny them both. Her knees bent to weakly rub along his waist.

His mouth near her breast, he said, “Tell me.”

“No. I don’t want you.” The sound of her voice was weak, the tone belying the words.

Yusef took her nipple in his mouth, biting the tender nub and then licking it. Her back arched. Spasms of pleasure jolted through her body at his every touch. Her muscles tensed. He moved his hand to her thighs, stroking boldly up to her center heat.

“Tell me,” Yusef growled, insistent.

“No.” Olena’s hips bucked into his hand and he let her rub against his palm. She was ready for him—wet and hot. He kissed her other breast, giving it the same bittersweet torment. This time she did cry out.

His eyes flashing, he rose up on his hands. It would be so easy for him to take her like this. Their breaths mingled. Their eyes locked in battle. His erection begged for freedom, brushing ever so lightly against her pussy through his clothing.

“Why won’t you admit you want me?” he asked in frustration. “I can see that you do.”

Her body worked restlessly beneath him. Her arms pulled, the muscles bunching as they wrenched against the ties.

“Because I’ll never want you.” Why wouldn’t he just end their torment and take her already?

“Gods’ bones, but you are a stubborn woman!” Yusef pulled away from her, his expression tormented. His arms tensed and she wondered if he wanted to strike her. She knew he wouldn’t. “I won’t force your body if your mind still refuses me.”

Yusef turned, angrily digging through his dresser drawers. He pulled out a formal black tunic jacket and matching breeches. Next, he grabbed a silver belt. Keeping his back to her, he threw off his shirt and put an undertunic on in its place. He changed his pants. Olena watched his glorious body as it was unveiled and then veiled once more. Slipping a jacket over his shoulders, he tied the cloth belt around his waist.

“Where are you going?” she asked, breathless from having watched the little performance of him dressing.

“I was going to take you to a celebration tonight at the palace. But seeing as you have no desire to be my wife, I’ll have to leave you right where you are.”

“What?” This time the ties were too short and she wouldn’t be able to chew her way loose. When she looked at him, she saw that he knew it too. She wasn’t going anywhere. “You can’t leave me like this, knight.”

“Then admit that you want to be with me.” He grabbed her pants, threaded them over her feet and jerked them back over her hips. Grabbing the covers, he threw them over her naked chest. He sat next to her and tenderly touched her cheek. “Come with me tonight as my wife.”

“I can’t. Why can’t you understand that? I can’t want anyone like that.”

“Then why did you marry me?” The question was hard and loud, as he tore his hand away from her skin. He stood, glaring down at her in frustration.

There was a deafening silence as she refused to speak for a very long moment. She forced herself to recognize her position tied to a bed on an alien planet with no one but herself to rely upon. If she was smart, she’d give in and lie. She’d tell him yes and smile and take her sorry pirate ass to a party at the royal palace where she could skim nobles for treasure. Something kept her from saying the words.

Olena’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Her lips twisted cruelly. “Because I had to. Because I needed to disappear for a while. I need to find a ship and my crew. Don’t worry, as soon as they come for me, I’ll be out of your life forever. I never intended on staying here with you, Yusef. You’re just some superstitious fool I’m biding my time with on this godforsaken planet until I can hitch a ride out of here.”

It was the truth. The fact she said it surprised her. What surprised her more was the fact that she was sorry for the reality of it.

He looked as if she’d ripped out his heart and stomped on it. There was so much agony in his dark gaze that she instantly wanted to take the confession back. Slowly, he nodded at her—a stiff, regal nod. Without saying a word, he left her tied to the bed.

Olena held deathly still, listening for a sound. She got one. It was the front door closing as he left her.

“That should just about do it, Olena.” She closed her eyes. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “He won’t want you after this.”

Where she should have felt joy, she only felt excruciating pain. It was a loss much deeper than she’d expected. For the first time in her life since being sold into slavery, she began to cry. It was a wretched, awful sound that poured out of her heart. “I hope you’re happy with your little pirate, Jack. I hope you’re dancing in your grave.”

Yusef stormed out of his house as if chased by evil spirits. A hollow pain dug itself a home in his heart, eating away at him. He hoped it killed him. Without Olena, the organ was useless to him. Anything would be better than the centuries he now faced alone.

Keeping a mask over his dark features, he didn’t give anything away. He delivered curt nods and stiff smiles to passing villagers. Seeing Agro, the giant man fell into step next to him. Agro instantly sensed his sour mood, despite the blank expression on the prince’s face. “The Var?”

Yusef nodded. “Olek says they are to be here tonight. He wanted them to witness our happy unions.”

“And the firebird?”

“Burning in hell for all I care,” Yusef said bitterly, storming ahead to the castle gate.

Chapter 21

The common hall of the Draig mountain palace had steep, arched ceilings with a center dome for light. The red stone floor was swept clean. Banners of the family crest decorated the walls, one for each color of the family lines—purple for the king and queen, black for Yusef, green for Olek, red for Zoran, and blue-gray for Ualan. Each banner had the silver symbol of the dragon boldly woven into it.

These were all the things Yusef had spent years looking at, and even more years looking, but not really seeing, what happened in familiar settings. Now he looked with new eyes, allowing himself the brief fantasy of what it would have looked like to his bride. Would she be impressed by his dragon heritage proudly displayed in each fine detail? Or would she think it amusing and primitive? Or would she think it pretentious and distastefully royal?

Lines of tables reached across the floor for dining, filled with villagers and attended to by servants armed with endless pitchers of various drinks. The murmuring voices could be heard all around him, as the excited Draig people endeavored to get a good look at the princesses sitting at the head table.

Yusef sat alone, much to the onlookers’ obvious contemplation. The queen’s maids had been eager to spread the rumor of Yusef’s sick bride, as they were told “in confidence” by the distressed queen. He had to bow to the cunning of his mother’s subtle touch. She understood the nature of people in a way his gruff father did not.

Next to him, his brother, Prince Zoran, sat rigid and proud. He favored the offworld Lintianese style of clothing, whose influence was seen in his red tunic. Zoran’s face was grim, a normal expression for him, as he was a serious, hard-working person. As the Capitan of the Guards, he was in charge of training the soldiers and leading them in battle. Next to him was his wife, who Yusef had learned was named Pia. She was a quiet woman, who merely nodded at him upon introduction. Her stoic expression matched that of Zoran’s, a strange complement.

In the center were his parents, both regal as they spoke to each other. Beside the king was Nadja, Olek’s wife. She was reserved and, by the looks of her perfectly positioned hair, she was high maintenance. His younger brother Olek was the Draig ambassador. He had an easy way about him, a quick smile and ready laugh. Any peace they had with the Var was of his doing.

Next to Olek was the oldest brother, Ualan. Ualan was the future king. He had a heavy responsibility on his shoulders but he wore it with ease. His wife, Morrigan, had proclaimed herself a slave to purge her honor. It was suspected she also did it to keep her husband’s sexual advances away from her. Though, when she looked at Ualan, Yusef saw that she didn’t entirely dislike his brother.

Seeing Morrigan glare absently at him as she spoke to Ualan, he returned her dark frown. Gods help the people when that sour woman comes to power. Luckily their mother didn’t seem too eager to give up her crown.

Then, glancing to his side at the empty seat, he sighed. From what his father said, all princes were cursed with angry women and unhappy marriages. Yusef knew none were as cursed as he. At least his brothers could bring their brides with them tonight, proclaiming them as their wives for all to witness. He had to leave his frustrating wench tied up at home. It was the only way he could assure she wouldn’t run away from him and get herself into more trouble.

The four princes, the king, and the queen all wore silver crowns of simplistic design atop their heads as a symbol of their sovereignty. The three attending Princesses had just received their crowns. He had been given Olena’s for her. It sat on the table in her absence. He would have it delivered to his wing in the palace.

Yusef turned his attention ahead, ignoring the plate of food set before him. He had picked at it absently, but found he had no appetite. Focusing on the real reason he was there in an effort to occupy his time, and to keep his thoughts from the fiery Olena, he studied a distant table in the back.

A group of silent, blond Var sat solemnly, ignored by most of the hall. Only one servant approached them, hesitatingly filling their goblets. The visiting noblemen held still as the timid man worked.

The largest at their table, King Attor, who ruled the Var kingdom to the south, allowed his gaze to linger on the three princesses as he studied them. Yusef picked up his drink, taking a sip of the wine. The Var king snarled in anger, though the man reigned in his emotion well. Yusef did not like the man’s treacherous presence in his family’s home.

He knew this night was a necessity. It was a show of power to their people, to prove the princes were happily married and thus would produce many royal heirs to secure their lineage. It also showed they had no fear of the Var, daring to invite them into their keep on such a joyful occasion. If Yusef had his way, they’d build a wall around the whole of the planet, separating sides, so he’d never have to look at another cat-shifter again. He was sure the Var felt the same way about the dragons. If they couldn’t live in a harmony, then living in isolation from each other was the next best thing.

A shout of laughter sounded, drawing Yusef from his thoughts. He glanced down and saw the young boy, Heinrich, limping over the floor. He had been born with a bad foot that turned in when he put weight on it. The deformity would keep him from ever being able to perform all the tasks of the most elite soldiers, so naturally it was what the boy wanted more than anything in the world. Heinrich should have known better, as he bravely approached a table of drunken Draig soldiers. Yusef shook his head, knowing what was going to happen before the boy even spoke.

The men chuckled, bidding the boy to do some trick to prove himself. The eager boy hopped on his bad leg, falling over, much to the amusement of the men who only laughed louder. The boy climbed to his feet to do it again. Suddenly, he felt Pia brushing past his back. Yusef blinked in surprise to see her rush to the boy’s aid.

Zoran didn’t move as he silently watched his wife.

Heinrich blinked in shock to see a princess before him and instantly bowed. His position was precarious and he stumbled before righting himself.

“Leave him be,” Pia demanded of the stunned warriors. Yusef sat back, crossing his arms over his chest to watch in curiosity.

“What do you want with Heinrich, my lady?” a burly soldier with a beard asked. “Does he offend you? I will have him removed.”

Pia shook. “He does not.”

Leaning toward Zoran, Yusef said, “I don’t think your wife understands that Heinrich is being put through his paces to prove his worth as a soldier. Perhaps you should stop her and explain before she makes a scene.”

A grin curled the side of Zoran’s mouth, though the man hid it well. “Perhaps you’re right, brother.”

“My lady,” the confused warrior defended, not understanding what he’d done wrong. “The boy knows we mean no harm. Don’t you, lad?”

Heinrich nodded his head. He understood perfectly well. He too was confused as he looked at the princess.

“See,” the man said.

“Yeah,” added another drunker warrior with a pockmarked face. “He thinks to become a warrior, don’t you, boy?”

The men laughed good-naturedly. Zoran stood, stepping leisurely around the table to fetch his wife.

“Well, I am a princess,” Pia announced, “and he will be my personal warrior.”

The hall was stunned. Heinrich’s mouth almost fell to the floor at her declaration. Yusef took a drink, trying not to laugh. Now here was a woman he wanted nowhere near Olena. With Olena’s creative mind and Pia’s temperament, the entire kingdom would be in trouble. Thinking of his wife tied to the bed, his laughter died in his chest and the grin left his dark features.

“If my lady wishes for a warrior,” the bearded man said. “Let us battle for the position. Do not insult us by naming a boy.”

“Let us have a tournament,” a warrior yelled.

A shout of agreement came from the men eager to do battle for such a coveted position.

“Do you dare to question a princess?” Zoran stated so loud his voice boomed over the hall. The onlookers instantly fell silent in respect.

“He is my warrior too!”

Yusef flinched. It was Olek’s wife, Nadja.

“And mine as well!” Morrigan said.

Yusef sighed. He was suddenly very thankful Olena wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure he wanted her around any of these crazy females. She was already crazy enough without company or encouragement.

Zoran glanced at his father and shrugged. “There you have it. You cannot deny the wishes of three princesses. Heinrich is now under royal protection and will be treated according to his new station.”

The warriors growled and looked darkly at the boy whose chest was puffing up with his new authority over them. Yusef shook his head. Zoran was going to be in for a lot of trouble after this incident. Seeing the men’s faces, he hid a smile. There might even be a small rebellion later that night.

Zoran lifted his hand and motioned the musicians to start playing. Pia told Heinrich to come to the table. She looked at Yusef expectantly and then to the empty seat beside him. Yusef glanced at Zoran, shrugged, and moved over so the boy could sit beside Zoran. Pia waved a servant to bring the boy a plate.

The boy beamed up at Yusef, who in turn nodded wearily back at him. Now that the commotion was over, he stood to join the musicians so he could get closer to the Var. The blond warriors were getting restless.

Smiling cheerfully, Yusef motioned for a gittern. The man willingly handed it over, having played with the prince often. Not losing his look, Yusef pretended to pay more attention to the livening crowd, than to his watchful task.

Chapter 22

“When I get my hands on you, knight, I’m going to tear out your liver and eat it for breakfast!”

Olena struggled on the bed, straining her hands against her bonds.

“I’m going to gouge out your eyes and feed them to a givre!”

The bonds wouldn’t give.

“Come face me like a man, knight. I’ll catapult you off the plank into the deep black. See how you like swimming with stars. I hope you can hold your breath, supernova!”

She was pretty sure that was one of her best threats yet. Too bad no one was around to hear any of them.

“Face me, you—”

Hearing a noise in the living room, she tensed and instantly shut her mouth.

Yusef?

Olena refused to move as she listened. When did he come home? Even with her screaming tirade she was sure she’d have heard the front door open.

Keeping quiet, she tugged at her ties, willing them to let her hands slip past. The back of her neck tingled in warning. She detected a soft rumble and what sounded like light footsteps. Whatever was making that noise, it wasn’t Yusef, unless he was playing some sort of a sick game with her to teach her a lesson. Even as she thought it, she somehow knew he would never do that to her.

Olena’s eyes darted around the dim room, looking for a weapon. She pulled at her wrists as hard as she could, rubbing them raw in an effort to yank free. It did no good. She was completely helpless.

Seeing the door slowly creak open, she tensed, burying herself into the bed. The rumbling grew louder, a low animalistic noise unlike anything she’d heard her shifter husband make. The door opened wider. Olena held her breath. Her heart raced as she readied for the fight. It wasn’t a man who entered, but a wild animal. Her mind tried to grasp the planetary facts scattered in her brain from the Galaxy Brides’ upload. Mirascat? Yorkin? Words came to her but she couldn’t recall their images.

At Galaxy Brides your safety is our top priority.

Blasted commercial! Come on, brain, give me something I can use.

She felt someone—something—come in the room with her. From what she could tell, the animal sounded like a sort of overgrown alien cat.

Wonderful. I’m on the dinner menu.

Her toes worked to silently get the blanket off her body. Her chest was bared as she drew the blanket down lower. She didn’t have time to care. Her legs were her only defense against the wild creature stalking her.

The door swung completely open, but Olena didn’t see anything standing in the doorway. Her skin prickled. Every nerve was on edge. A flash of fur appeared over the edge of the bed. The footfall continued.

Suddenly, a roar sounded and the cat pounced onto the bed. This was like no ordinary cat she’d ever seen. He was as big as a man. It had long arms and legs like a human, though fur covered its body. Eyeing the tunic shirt, she realized this creature was another shifter. Olena gasped, kicking desperately to finish pulling her legs free. By the way the creature’s deadly green eyes studied her body, she could tell he wasn’t a friend of the family.

The man-cat roared. His head tilted to the side as his face and body shifted to human form. Long blond hair covered his head, pulled back from his face. His nose hooked at the end, seeming to point at her. He had an ugly face that stared at her, as a cruel smile curved onto his mouth. Soon three other men, similar in build, came into the room and stood above her.

“Ah,” the one at the door said. His voice was low as he laughed. His eyes appeared blue beneath his thick brows, but it was too dim to be sure. “Look what the Draig has left us. A yummy little morsel all tied up and ready for roasting.”

Another man answered, but her implanted universal translator did not understand the language and it sounded like gibberish. At least the first one spoke in the Old Star language.

The others laughed. Olena’s jaw rose in defiance. If this is how she was to go, she wasn’t dying without leaving a mark.

“Take a bite. I hope you choke on your meal,” Olena said. Her heart pounded so hard she thought she might throw up.

“Feisty,” the man on her left said.

“I like my women to fight me,” the one on her right answered.

“Where’s your little prince, love?” the one with the hooked nose asked by her feet. He began crawling toward her. The jerking of his movements caused her breasts to bounce, and he watched them in excitement.

“He’ll be back any minute.” Her eyes shot fire.

“I like this one,” one said. “Let’s keep her, Brouse. I want to play with her.”

“Oh, I intend to play,” the hook-nosed Brouse answered. He narrowed in on Olena. The others stayed at his back as he came for her. He reached out his hand, growing deadly sharp claws that could slice her throat with one sweep. “But, Attor wants this one brought to him whole.”

Yusef forced a smile as he kept time with the musicians. He nodded his head at passing couples to acknowledge them. Someone sang along nearby, just out of his line of sight. Others danced merrily across an open section of the floor, joined by Zoran and Pia.

Yusef watched the Var out of the corner of his eye. King Attor stood, drawing his full attention. The man spoke in low tones to his men and they all followed him as he went to the royal table to speak to the Draig king. Yusef couldn’t hear what was said, but by the look on his father’s face, he knew the kings were merely laying voice to a formality.

The Var turned to leave, trailing silently out a side door. King Attor glanced at him. Yusef kept playing his song, never missing a beat as he returned the heated stare. The man had the audacity to smile and nod, but the dark, knowing look made Yusef nervous. The man was up to something.

When the men reached the door, Yusef looked up at Olek, receiving a nod of silent agreement. He ended his part of the song early and passed his instrument back to its owner who took up immediately where the prince had left off. No one noticed the change as the dancing continued. Yusef followed the Var warriors out of the common hall.

Seeing Agro in the passageway waiting for him, he motioned the warrior to move ahead. The Var silently made their way out of the mountain fortress. Though the man-cats never turned, Yusef knew they were well aware of being followed.

They made it through the castle without incident. Yusef motioned for Agro to follow the Var as they left Draig land. He stopped by the castle door, scanning over the valley from the advantage of the cliff’s height. His eyes shifted with gold, taking in the detail of the trees to make sure no attack was planned on the village while the House of Draig celebrated within.

He squinted, trying to see to the Outpost where his wife was tied to the bed. His senses pricked in warning, silently urging him to go to her, telling him that she was in trouble and needed him.

Sensing movement behind him, he did not readily move his gaze from where Agro still followed King Attor and his men. Whoever it was behind him, he smelled the unmistakable scent of the Draig. He turned, expecting to see one of their soldiers coming to assist him.

Suddenly, a sharp fire pieced into his unsuspecting back and he howled. Yusef arched violently as he was stabbed several times in quick succession. His hands started to shift in defense, flailing, but the attack was too fast and his reactions too late. He fell to his knees, never getting a look at the assailant. His body writhed in pain. His attacker kicked him hard, pushing him violently from the blade as he took off running down the hall inside the Draig keep.

Yusef moaned in agony, sure he was dying. The vision of Olena, beautiful and defiant, worked its way into his head. The sick feeling that he would never see her again overwhelmed him.

“Olena,” he whispered, wishing to tell someone that he’d left her tied to the bed. They needed to free her. Surely, his brothers would go to her and free her.

He fought the darkness that threatened. Agro’s feet were suddenly before him and the man was calling for help from passing guards. The guards shifted to Draig, jumping down from their high post above the castle gate. They landed unharmed.

“What are you saying?” Agro demanded loudly. “Who did this? Yusef? Who did this?”

Yusef felt like he was talking, but the sounds he made were not registering on Agro’s expression.

At Agro’s command, the Draig warriors helped to haul the fallen prince to his feet. Yusef howled in pain, automatically fighting the soldiers’ hands as they dragged him toward the medical ward. Agro ran ahead to warn a doctor, who in turn jumped to instant attention, sending his wife to fetch him more help. Agro took off down the hall to inform the king about what had happened, leaving Yusef in the doctor’s care.

Yusef struggled, becoming mindless as he fought the hands that would subdue him. He vaguely heard the doctor’s voice as the man tried to seal the knife wounds with a laser. Agro came back followed by his brothers. Yusef fought them all, desperate to get up, desperate to get his wife to safety. Why weren’t they listening to him?

“What is he saying?” Olek demanded. He helped Ualan hold Yusef down.

Yusef’s eyes opened wide, and his body lost some of its fight.

Ualan murmured something to him, but he couldn’t hear.

Using the last of his strength, Yusef called desperately, “My wife.”

Ualan and Olek nodded in instant understanding of the plea. Yusef barely saw the gesture as his world went completely black.

Chapter 23

A diffused soft green haze settled over the dense forest, which blended eerily with the fog coming off the nearby marshes. Moss hung from treetops, unmoving in their windless isolation. The air was damp and oppressive in this part of the woods, unlike the outside by Yusef’s home. There was a strange smell that never lifted, and even the insects had deserted the area.

Olena glanced around through the slit of her lowered eyelids. Her captors, who she was silently referring to as ‘the fur-ball gang’, were camped around a nearby fire. The soft orange glow reflected light off her hanging body to showcase any movement she might make toward escape, but unfortunately provided little heat. The fur-balls thought it amusing to leave her topless, and the chill was getting to her tender flesh.

As they’d gathered around her on Yusef’s bed, she knew they weren’t going to kill her right away. The way they constantly dropped Yusef’s name, King Attor made her suspect it was supposed to mean something to her. It didn’t. He was more than likely the local ruffian who controlled these hairy annoyances.

Before cutting her loose with their sharp claws, they’d said Attor wanted her for himself. So until this King of the Fur- Balls received shipment of her, she assumed she had nothing to worry about. She’d been right so far. Aside from a few awkward pawings meant to intimidate her, they hadn’t tried anything.

Attor, whoever he was, was a foolish, foolish man if he thought four hairy minions were going to subdue her for long. Olena knew she only had to play the meek, trembling female for a little while before these men would lower their guard and make a mistake. So far they hadn’t given her an opening, but she stayed confident they would slip up.

She couldn’t be sure of how long she’d been with the furry foursome, only that they had traveled through most of what looked like night. However, as the hours stretched on, she guessed the shadowy marshes always made it look like it was nighttime.

Her hands were bound above her head, tied to a tree branch. She decided the position was rather uninventive of them. Her feet stayed firmly planted on the ground, giving her knees little room to bend. She refused to let fear overcome her. Jack had taught her fear was never an option. Those who felt it were instantly defeated. Those who were brave and had a plan met with victory.

Olena always had a plan. She just wasn’t done formulating it yet.

Yusef wrenched open his eyes, fighting the never-ending nightmares that plagued him. Frowning in confusion, he tried to move. His body ached with a liquid fire. The light was dim, or was it his eyes? Blinking, he felt a poke on his arm, a slight sting, and then heat moving up to his shoulder. A familiar brown-haired woman sat beside him. Her lips moved but he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

He looked at his arm and then the syringe she held. Whatever she gave him was working. The intense pain in his back eased and he felt better. He closed his eyes and instantly thought of Olena. Hopelessness and despair surrounded her beautiful face. He knew she was hurt, and no matter how he willed his legs to move, he couldn’t get up to save her.

Yusef!

Olena jerked awake. She shook violently, her back throbbing with sharp jabs of pain like someone was stabbing her. As she took a deep breath and then another, the pain slowly subsided. Her hands were numb from her position and she straightened her legs to take the pressure off her wrists. She looked around, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the crisp marsh air.

Yusef.

She didn’t know how, but she had the overwhelming feeling that he needed her. Before she was fully awake and pain free, a new, faster plan formed in her brain. “Hey, fur-ball!”

Brouse awoke with a start. He instantly shifted into full cougar form, falling down on all fours. He crouched, sniffing the air. Olena smiled prettily at the hairy creature, pouting her lips and batting her eyelashes.

“Hey, you, come here,” she purred softly. The man-cat’s blue eyes blinked in question. Olena shyly bit her lip. “Please. I want to talk to you.”

Brouse shifted back into human form. A lazy smile curled on his lips.

“I won’t bite.” She beckoned him with a come-hither fire to her eyes that could scorch any man. “Please, I just want to talk. I’m ready to be a good girl—a very good girl.”

Zoran lifted his hand and motioned Ualan, Olek, and the king to stop their progress. It had been hard, but they’d found Yusef’s wife and her Var kidnappers. The cat-shifters hid in the shadowed marshes. He sniffed the air. The rotting smell of molding plant life and animal carcasses masked even the barest traces of scent from most of their kind—from all but the trackers, an elite bunch of Draig who were chosen for their highly developed sense of smell.

Zoran’s vision penetrated the darkness to study the Var campsite. Pointing two fingers, he motioned for his father to follow him and for his brothers to go around the far side of the Var camp. The men nodded in understanding, readying their swords. They all shifted to dragon form, their skin hardening for battle.

Seeing a woman with flaming red hair tied to a tree, Zoran suddenly stopped. Her back was to them, her upper torso completely naked. King Llyr made a movement as if to say, that’s her. To his surprise, she spoke.

“I won’t bite.” Her tone was husky with a thick promise any male would pick up.

The king’s jaw tensed. Zoran put a hand on his father’s arm. He wouldn’t give the order to move until he could ensure his brothers were ready.

“Please, I just want to talk,” Yusef’s wife said. Her leg lifted in the air, falling open to the side. Zoran’s hand on his father tightened in shock. “I’m ready to be a good girl—a very good girl.”

Chapter 24

Olena looked at the cat-shifter in front of her, seeing Brouse’s gaze drift down over her body, which moved in restless offering. He licked his lips, focusing on her naked breasts.

This is too easy, she thought. Typical though, considering I may be one of the first women this kitty-cat has ever seen.

“Oh,” she pouted, with the ‘save me big strong man’ look. She bit her bottom lip, sucking it lightly before letting it go into a full pout. “My arms hurt so badly.”

The man’s eyes shot up to her, narrowing in suspicion.

She tilted her head to the side. “I know you can’t let me down, but do you think I could wrap my legs around your waist and let you hold me up for a while? I just want to give my shoulders a rest.”

The man licked his lips, glancing back to his sleeping comrades.

“Oh, they don’t have to know. I promise to be good. I can be very, very quiet. Please.” Olena gave him a wanton look. “I’m so cold. Can’t you come and warm me? I’d bet a big man like you would be real strong and real hot.”

She looked at his obvious arousal. The man-cat smiled. It was a dark and lecherous expression, as he decided to take her invitation.

“You keep quiet.” His tone filled with the sound of rolling gravel. “Or I’ll break your neck.”

Olena pretend to shiver, letting an excited smile come to her. With feigned passion, she said, “Oh, yes, master.”

A low growl sounded in the man’s throat. Olena pretended to shiver. Her eyes rounded as the man’s hairy fingers reached for her breast. Pulling with all her strength, she jumped off the ground. Just as she wrapped her legs around the unsuspecting man’s head, she saw a movement from the corner of her eye.

Handling one attack at a time, she twisted her body and gave a violent jerk. Brouse growled in surprise, waking the others. He shifted mid-twist and a fanged tooth dug into Olena’s thigh. She screeched at the pain but did not stop. A loud snap resounded as the cat-shifter’s neck broke. Her body swung back as she released him. The man’s fang dragged down her thigh, slicing her as he fell lifeless to the ground.

The other three captors lunged to their feet, partially shifted and ready for battle. She swung to see who else moved into the encampment. Dragon-shifters surged past her.

Olena trembled as three dragons met the three cats. There was a slashing of swords and claws, a gruesome melody of roars and growls. Ignoring her bloody leg, Olena tried to swing up to grab the branch. If she could just get her feet over the edge, she might be able to crawl off the end. The branch was angled upward and she couldn’t get enough leverage. That was why she’d needed Brouse. If the Draig hadn’t interrupted her, she would’ve used the dead man’s shoulders, pushing up as he fell. Instead, they broke her concentration and she’d ended up being bitten.

She kicked wildly at the tree, swinging high only to have her back crash into the trunk with a bruising thud. The pain didn’t stop her from trying again. After Olena’s body collided a third time, she hit her head and was too dazed to find an appropriate foothold to keep going. Looking over, she saw one of the Draig standing by her side, watching her in curiosity. She would have sworn he smiled at her with his rough, dragon face. Olena glared back. “Are you done staring? Get me down already, dragon!”

Instantly, his sword sung through the air, slashing through her binds. The breeze of the blade flew past her hands. If his aim had been off, she’d have lost her fingers. She dropped to the ground, falling to her knees. Without flinching, she nodded her thanks and shook her wrists free, scraping her skin as she did so.

Olena lifted her hand out to him. “Your sword.”

The Draig only smiled at her, lifting the tip of the weapon to the ending battle. The Draigs had conquered the Var, slaughtering them in a most honorable display of fury. Barely out of breath, the victorious dragons turned to her. They were covered with blood.

She placed her hands on her hips and frowned. “What do you think you are doing? I had this under control. If I wanted a rescue I would have screamed for one.”

The dragon-shifters looked at each other and then back at the outraged woman standing half-naked before them.

“Why isn’t Yusef with you?” Olena demanded, studying their shifted faces. Though the words were hard, her bravery wavered. She tried not to let the vulnerability show. Fear gripped her. “Where is Yusef? He’s hurt, isn’t he?”

One by one the dragons shifted to their human form. Olena didn’t recognize them. Hands still on hips, she stared each one of them down, unafraid.

“Do you think one of you could at least give me a shirt?” she asked, dryly. “Maybe then you could stop staring at my breasts long enough to answer me.”

“How is that for gratitude?” one of them mumbled.

The largest warrior took off his overtunic and tossed it to her. She slipped it over her head, not caring that it was splattered with the blood of battle.

“Who are you?” she asked, as her head poked out of the top. It was still warm from the man’s body and the sleeves fell past her hands.

“I am Zoran,” the shirtless man answered, the words clipped. He nodded to the next man to speak. “My brothers.”

“Olek.”

“Ualan.”

“You knew we were not Yusef?” Zoran questioned with a small show of admiration.

“Of course I knew. I know what my husband looks like.” Olena shook her head, eyeing him as if he were daft. “I only have one of them, you know.”

“Many wives complain that their husbands all look alike when they’ve shifted—at least for the first seventy five years until they’ve grown used to it,” Olek said.

“Where is Yusef?” Olena was unmoved by their smiles of admiration. She didn’t think she would feel completely safe until she saw him again. Not that she cared, she told herself. He’d saved her life and she owed him one was all. She would never admit it, but her heart was stuck in her throat, refusing to beat until she heard that her husband was safe. “Who are you to him?”

“We are his brothers,” Olek answered.

“Brothers,” she repeated, vaguely remembering someone saying he had them. She eyed them, not readily seeing her husband’s darker looks in their lighter features.

“And I am his father,” the Draig behind her said. He had been so quiet Olena had forgotten he was there. Spinning around, she eyed the man.

“Wait.” She paled. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

The men looked at each other confused.

Olena pointed at Ualan. She wobbled slightly on her feet, her leg throbbing where Brouse’s fang had cut her. “You’re a prince. You punched Agro at the Breeding Festival. He told me.”

Ualan narrowed his eyes and curtly nodded.

“And you,” she said turning an accusatory eye to Yusef’s father, “are the king.”

The man nodded to confirm. He too dared to smile at her.

“That would mean.” Olena swayed. “I married a prince?”

Feeling lightheaded, Olena looked down and lifted her borrowed tunic to see her bleeding leg. Her lashes fluttered. “Blast the stars. Not again.”

Olena collapsed on the ground, unconscious. She had shown great bravery in fighting the Var and hadn’t even flinched at their shifting. But the second she discovered she was a princess, she suddenly looked like she was going to be violently ill.

Zoran grinned, chuckling as he hit Olek in the chest with the back of his hand. “You get her, Olek. I don’t want to be the one holding her when she wakes up.”

Olek flinched, looking at the red-headed wood sprite lying on the ground. Cursing under his breath, he went to pick her up. Ualan and the king laughed, moving to follow Zoran.

“And see to her wound,” the king said.

Chapter 25

“Hold, woman!”

Olena flinched, coming fully awake ready for a fight. It took her a moment to realize she was on the back of a mount, riding before Prince Olek. She relaxed her arm.

Zoran and Ualan broke into laughter. King Llyr watched, amused. Olek held his side where Olena had tried to elbow him off his ceffyl. Gripping the center horn of his mount, Olek pulled himself back up behind the beast’s bare shoulders, only this time he was careful not to touch the woman in front of him.

“Don’t call me woman,” Olena said under her breath, shooting all of them a dark glare. “My name is Olena.”

The ceffyl’s wide back shifted. Its fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of its long tongue.

“These mounts are sorry looking things,” she mumbled, looking at the reptilian-horse hybrid they rode. Louder, as if nothing had happened, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“Good morning to you too, princess.” Olek rubbed his stomach.

Olena grimaced at the name and Olek looked somewhat vindicated.

“Home,” Ualan stated in answer to her question.

“But?” Olena saw the large mountain palace looming before them. Twisting around, she pointed behind them. “I live down there.”

“Not anymore,” the king decreed. “The Var smashed all the windows. Besides, the Outpost is no place for a lady right now. It’s not safe. You will be better off in the protection of the castle.”

“First of all, I’m not a lady. Second, I can protect myself,” Olena said.

The king looked shocked by her statement.

“Third,” she continued, “I’ve slept in worse places, and a little broken glass is nothing. And last, by Var, do you mean the, it’s going to take a lot more than the fur-ball gang back there to scare me.”

Olek chuckled.

She ignored him, expectantly watching the king. “If Yusef hadn’t left me tied to the bed, I never would have been taken.”

The men exchanged looks.

“I had time to study them. They would be easy to defeat.” Olena gave a confident nod. “So, take me back to the Outpost. I’ll take my chances there with Yusef.”

“Those Var you faced were hardly a true showing of our enemy’s best warriors,” the king said.

Olena didn’t want to go to the castle, despite her pirate instincts telling her it would give her rich rewards. As a princess, they would be watching her very closely. They would expect her to act in a certain, civilized way. She couldn’t do it. The idea of trying petrified her, though she didn’t readily admit it to herself.

Besides, how would her crew find her if she were locked away in a castle under protection? She didn’t want them to go up against the Draig army to rescue her. They would possibly be slaughtered if they came unprepared for it. Never in a million light years would the crew think she’d married a prince.

“Yusef is at the palace,” Zoran said.

Olena turned to the large warrior in disbelief. “What? That knight is lounging at the palace while I—ooooh!”

The brothers shared a frown. Olena shook her head in anger.

The traveling party had made it to the small village and rode through the center street. None of them spoke. People came out of their houses and shops to watch them. Young boys waved at the passing princes, some cheered and shouted. They all pointed in excitement to see their blood stained clothing. The princes waved back, acknowledging them.

A courtyard was before the hidden fortress. Once they had passed the villagers and were making the shallow climb up the side of the mountain base to the front of the castle, the king stated, “Yusef was stabbed.”

Olena spun around in surprise to stare at him. Olek stopped the ceffyl near the front gate. She felt the blood running out of her face.

Olek swung down, lifting a hand to her to help her from the mount. Olena ignored him, jumping off the other side on her own. Her sore leg caused her to wobble. She looked down at the roughly bandaged wound, having forgotten completely that she’d been injured.

“What do you mean he was stabbed?” She gave the men a hard look. “He was in Draig, wasn’t he? So he’s fine. He was protected by that thick skin of his.”

The brothers exchanged looks. The wound in her leg tingled now that she’d put pressure on it. Her hands shook and she clenched them into fists to hide the weakness.

“He was attacked from behind and stabbed in the back,” Zoran stated. He tossed his mount’s reins to Ualan, and Olek took the king’s. The two men walked the ceffyls to the stables. Zoran continued, “He didn’t have time to shift.”

Olena’s heart nearly stopped beating. The anguish she felt was worse than any injury she’d ever known. Her eyes teared. She felt as if her whole body was being sucked into an abyss. “He is dead?”

“No.” The king took a step forward, ready to catch her as she swayed.

Olena took a deep breath and stepped away from him, not wanting him to touch her. Hardening herself, she waited for them to continue.

“He’s in the medical ward.” King Llyr dropped his hand. “He’s alive, but he is in bad condition and unconscious. The doctors say they are hopeful, but his life is still in danger.”

“Take me to him.” Olena stopped quivering by mere force of her will. She might not want to stay as Yusef’s princess, but she definitely had no desire to see him dead. He had saved her life. It was time to repay the favor. Whatever it took, she would make sure he lived.

Olena stood frozen in the entryway to the medical ward. There was a row of large empty beds along one wall and a reception desk by the other along with rows of glass cases. In the back were two private rooms and an operating room. Seeing Yusef on one of the beds, she ignored everything else. He was as still as a corpse, his naturally tanned complexion had paled. His eyes were closed, purpling around the sides of his lids. His handsome lips were edged with an eerie blue.

Pressing her lips tightly together, she refused to cry.

As Zoran and the king had led her to the medical wing, Olena hadn’t taken in her surroundings. Her mind worked furiously with the lingering fear that Yusef might not be alive, that he might have died while they came for her. Damn her stubborn pride. If she would’ve just relented and said she was his wife, he would’ve taken her with him to the palace and she would’ve been able to protect him from whoever did this.

Now, seeing his chest rise in a shallow breath, Olena could relax enough to breathe.

Queen Mede was by her son’s side, her face drawn. If she had any lingering doubts about who he was, they were squelched the moment she saw his mother. Olena stiffly nodded to the woman, before taking a step toward Yusef.

With so many eyes on her, she grew uneasy, knowing they watched to see how she would react. How was she supposed to react? What was normal for wives? Did they expect her to cry and scream? Did they expect her throw herself into a womanly frenzy? She wasn’t that type of woman. She didn’t show weakness to anyone.

Their eyes alone kept her from crying out and rushing to him. She stared coolly at Yusef’s unmoving features and went to his side. She wanted to touch him, but held back. “Has he woken up?”

“No, dear.” The queen said. Seeing the bloodied front of Olena’s borrowed tunic, she frowned.

“Princess Olena?” The king gestured at her leg. Olena stiffened as she heard the title. “Perhaps you should have that examined.”

The queen glanced to where her husband motioned. The bandage on Olena’s thigh was seeping. Queen Mede gestured to the doctor. Olena dutifully followed the doctor’s command, hopping up onto a bed next to Yusef. The queen ushered the men from the room to give the woman privacy as the doctor ripped through her pants. Before leaving, Queen Mede told Olena she would be back in a while to take her to Yusef’s home within the castle.

Olena ignored them all, letting the doctor work. Lying down, she stared at Yusef. He didn’t move, save for the rise and fall of his chest. Inside, she felt as if she was falling through empty air with no landing in sight.

Olena refused to go to Yusef’s wing of the palace, telling his family that she was tired and content to spend the night in the medical ward. Later that evening, Tal came in carrying a mug of steaming blue liquid. The man looked at her in surprise, but then slowly shook his head and continued back to one of the offices without saying a word. Moments later, he passed by again, nodding to her as he left.

Once they were alone, Olena sat up and hopped off her cot to go to Yusef. Looking around to make sure no one saw her, she touched his forehead. He was warm, not anything like the deathly cold she imagined. She trailed her hand down his neck, feeling for a pulse. It beat steadily against her fingers. She sighed in hesitant relief. Next, she moved to his naked chest to feel the rise and fall of his lungs. His breath was shallow, but it was there.

Olena frowned. She didn’t know what she was doing. She wasn’t a nursemaid. She was a pirate. Taking the pirate approach, she leaned over next to his ear. Goading him, she ordered, “Get up off that bed now, you lazy good-for-nothing knight.”

She pulled back and studied him for a reaction. He didn’t move. She leaned over again.

“Did you hear me, knight? If you don’t get up right now I’m going to rob your family blind and burn down your precious mountain fortress.”

She pulled back, swallowing. Not even a twitch.

Olena frowned, standing tall. She didn’t touch him again. Not knowing what else she could say to convince him to wake up, she crawled back into her bed and pulled the blankets over her body.

“If you survive this, Yusef,” Olena said softly, turning her back on him. “I’ll kill you for scaring me.”

Chapter 26

The next morning, Olena was awakened by Queen Mede. The queen smiled at her when she noticed her opened eyes. Brushing back a strand of Yusef’s hair with a tender, motherly hand, the woman stepped around the bed to look at her son’s wife.

“Did you get some rest?” Queen Mede asked, her voice gentle and kind.

Olena nodded. She had indeed slept, though her dreams were as troubled as always. Only this time, instead of Sage dying, it had been Yusef. She stretched her arms above her head.

“If you like I can take you to your home here in the palace,” Queen Mede said. Olena started to refuse, but the queen added, “He won’t be going anywhere for a while and you look as if you could use a change of clothes and a shower. I had some of the soldiers go to the Outpost and retrieve both of your belongings.”

Olena tensed, thinking of the floral bags. She had hid them in the closet and had put her ID’s up in a crevice. Her gun was still missing, but she didn’t have time to ponder where Yusef might have hidden it.

Olena allowed the queen to lead her through the red passageway halls. She made sure to pay attention so she could find her way back to the medical ward. Tapestries, statues, and paintings decorated the halls. Olena saw that both human and dragon-shifters were depicted on the tapestries. The paintings were mostly landscapes and portraits.

The queen stayed long enough to program Olena’s voice to the command-activated front door so she would be able to get out of the house. She told Olena to make herself comfortable—that it was her home as much as her son’s. Olena nodded, not really speaking to the woman.

Yusef’s palace home was nothing like the beautiful Outpost. There were hardly any windows, except a large ceiling dome in the front room, to let in light, and smaller domes in the bathroom and bedroom. The floors were wide and made of marble. Everything was pristine and white, and to Olena it looked extremely sterile. She much preferred the earthy, comfortable feel of the lodge.

A large black banner hung over one wall, a white dragon embroidered on it. The fireplace was an overbearingly large construction of light block marble. A white couch, which looked as if it had never been sat upon, was before the fireplace. Between the fireplace and the couch was a white fur rug.

The kitchen was clean, the cabinet and refrigerator empty. Yusef’s bedroom was a little better. The bed had a black coverlet with red pillows. She found her clothes already put away in the dresser. The closet was nearly bare except for some formal, princely tunics. She found a large silver crown next to a smaller one, some weaponry, boots, and house slippers.

Taking her clothes, she went to the bathroom. A shower was fitted in one corner, long and wide with many showerheads and spouts. There was an immaculately clean sink and countertop. The cabinets were stocked with the barest of essentials. This house wasn’t exactly lived in.

Seeing a natural hot spring growing up from the floor with the red sides of the mountain, Olena sighed. She tested the hot, bubbling water before climbing in. With a groan, she sat down on one of the carved seats and let the bubbles massage against her feet.

Washing at leisure, she got out and dressed. She found a brush and made quick work of her wet hair. She hated to admit it, but she did feel a little better. Thinking of Yusef lying in the hospital made her feel a lot worse. Not bothering to pick up her old clothes, she left the house without a backwards glance.

Her boots hit upon the stone passageway as she walked. The halls were empty as she made her way back to the medical ward. Not saying a word, she sat on the same bed from the night before. Yusef hadn’t moved since she’d left.

“Olena?”

Olena had been staring at Yusef’s chest for so long that she’d become hypnotized by its movement. It took a moment for her name to register. Turning, she saw Nadja from the Galaxy Brides’ ship.

“Nadja?” Olena tried to smile. Nadja’s hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were kind as they shone from her porcelain skin. “What are you doing here?”

“I married Prince Olek.” Nadja’s smile faded slightly. “The youngest brother.”

“I’m sorry,” Olena said before she could stop herself. Nadja laughed.

“I am too most of the time,” Nadja admitted. “Morrigan Blake married the oldest son, Ualan. He’s moody from what I can gather. And I don’t know if you remember Pia?”

Olena nodded.

“She married Prince Zoran. He’s a frightful creature.” Nadja shivered.

“I’ve met him and the other princes.” Olena thought of her kidnapping.

“Oh,” Nadja said, as if she suddenly realized her comments were foolish. “I forgot, you would have, wouldn’t you?”

Olena glanced back at Yusef.

“I only came to see how you were,” Nadja said. “And Prince Yusef, obviously.”

“The doctors say he is making a quick recovery. But, I don’t see a change in him.”

“And you?” Nadja asked.

“I’m fine,” Olena answered, not caring to get into it. She didn’t mind Nadja, found her to be a likable woman, but she wasn’t about to start playing nice and making friends.

“Oh.” Nadja smiled shyly, not looking at all offended by Olena’s short tone.

“Has anyone heard anything about who did this?”

“No,” Nadja said. “I don’t know anything. Morrigan was poisoned the same night. She’s recovered now and I believe the princes are pretty sure King Attor is behind it. He is the ruler of the Var, the kingdom to the south. The men spend a lot of time together and one can only assume they are working on finding out what they can. Everyone has been really concerned about the both of you.”

Olena didn’t answer. She was sure Nadja was just being polite. The family was most likely only concerned about its reputation and the life of their prince. They didn’t know her so couldn’t possibly be concerned about a stranger.

“Well, they’re about to serve dinner. You’re welcome to come to the common hall with me if you like. The family usually dines together there.” Nadja offered.

Olena shook her head, and mumbled something by way of a quick goodbye.

When Nadja was gone, Olena frowned at Yusef. She wasn’t sure what she should do. She didn’t want to leave him, but she didn’t want to be in the palace either.

Olena waited as a doctor came and took some readings from his patient. He gave Yusef an injection. The doctor’s wife brought Olena a tray of food. She tried to eat, but in the end pushed the tray aside.

Finally, everyone left for the evening and she was alone with her husband. A tear slid silently down her cheek. It was easy to be mad at first, but as the day turned into evening and he still showed no signs of waking up, she could hardly take the suspense of waiting.

Going over to him, she sat by his side. She placed her hand over his heartbeat, and felt an overwhelming fear that he would never wake up.

“Damn you, Yusef,” she said. “It’s not like this is going to make me stay here with you. I don’t even care about you. As soon as my crew comes I’m leaving you behind.”

Yusef’s chest rose and fell. Other than that, he didn’t move.

Chapter 27

Another day passed with Olena staring at Yusef, more than looking after him. The doctors attended to most of his needs. She was pretty much in their way, but they never complained and she refused to leave. His parents and brothers came and went. They had few words for her, and she had even less to say to them. Olek watched her cautiously, careful to keep a distance. This amused Olena, though she doubted she could take Olek in a fair fight.

Olena told herself she was just going to make sure Yusef was fine and then she would concentrate on leaving him. She was lying to herself. She knew it. She refused to acknowledge it.

Yusef wasn’t a bad man. He’d been nice to her, taken care of her when she was sick. The least she could do was return the favor.

Yeah, so he left her tied up a few times. It’s not like she was winning any awards for being perfect. Hell, if she was married to herself, she’d tie herself up too.

Olena eyed the king and queen watching over their son. They appeared so pitiful with their worried faces and tenderly murmured words. No one she ever knew was helped by such open grief.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore—all the half-gestures and whispered words of distress. Dwelling wasn’t doing anyone any good. It was time to light a fire under Yusef’s very immobile backside.

“Give me a moment alone with him,” Olena said. It wasn’t a request. Her voice was hoarse from little use and the royal parents seemed surprised to hear her speak after being silent for so long. When they didn’t jump to obey, she said harshly, “Please.”

The king glanced at his wife. Queen Mede nodded him toward the door, saying, “We’ll be just outside if you need us.”

Olena waited for the door to close. Oh, but Yusef was handsome, even lying there so sick and helpless. His color had improved ever so slightly, though not enough to please his wife. As far as Olena could come up with—and she’d had many hours to contemplate how to rouse him out of his coma—there was only one way left to try. Slowly, she kicked off her boots. Eyeing him, she said, “I’ll get you up, knight. If this doesn’t work, we might as well tag your toe and eject you out of the airlock. Hell, I’ll even push the button myself.”

Licking her lips, she pulled the covers off his naked chest. The hard muscles hadn’t softened from his days in the hospital bed. He wore a pair of light cotton pants on his legs. His feet were bare.

Climbing up on top of him, she straddled his hips and let her body press intimately into his relaxed member. She leaned back to look at the door and swallowed nervously. All was well. They were alone.

She watched Yusef’s features for any sign of a reaction. Taking her fingernails, she ran them over his chest, scratching his skin lightly from thick neck to strong stomach. His body was so firm. There was no fat deposited on his muscular frame. His warm flesh felt so fine against her palms that she stroked him a few more times.

Olena could easily remember how expertly his body would move against hers. Despite herself and her mission to rouse him, she grew excited by what she was doing.

She became more caressing, pressing her hands firmly to the flesh she explored. She rubbed his small nipples, raising them to her touch. For a moment, she thought she felt his breath catch. But she had been so wrapped up in her own exploration, she wasn’t sure. Pausing, she watched him. There was no change.

Phase one of her plan wasn’t working. Olena decided to go to stage two.

Keeping quiet, she pulled her shirt off and set it behind her by Yusef’s feet. She supported her weight as she leaned over. Letting her nipples graze his chest, she lightly rubbed her breasts over him. She bit her lips, closing her eyes as the sensations spread like wildfire through her.

Olena lifted on all fours, getting slightly carried away as she moved her erect nipples up toward his face. Naughtily, she parted his lips with the tight bud, shivering to feel his hot breath against it. She wanted nothing more than for him to open his mouth and suck it deeply between his lips.

When she pulled back to once more settle her hips on his, she felt as if he had aroused some beneath her. Without thinking, she said fervently, “Stage three.”

Olena climbed off the bed, only to strip completely out of her clothes. Once naked, she got back on top of him. Sitting astride his thick, muscular thighs, she drew the drawstring apart at his waist. With a tug, she drew the waistband down, over his hips to expose his member nestled in dark hair. Even prone, his cock was daunting in its size.

Olena didn’t stop. She ran her hands to his thighs, running up his hip bones and stomach as she tried to get up the nerve to touch his member. She rubbed her breasts over his hips next, pressing more fully when she discovered the shocking pleasure of his hair roughened thighs on her sensitive nipples.

Yusef’s member twitched between her breasts. Olena was hot for him. She could feel the moistness his nearness stirred between her thighs. Without thought, she crawled up his taut body, administering her kisses like medicine to his skin. Beginning at the flat navel carved into his stomach, she licked her way up his chest, flicking her tongue over his nipples, before continuing to his neck. His pulse had sped up since she last checked it. Or was that her heart she felt beating so hard and fast?

Her hips settled next to his groin, heating it to grow with her moist fire. It stirred and twitched against her, driving her mad with a powerful lust. Pleasure shot through her to feel him. His arousal became thick and she let it press intimately into her. Slowly, her hips rubbed along him, rocking, building tension and need. Feeling his arousal, she needed him more than anything to wake up and finish the ache he’d created in her that first night in the tent.

Going to his ear, she bit the lobe and said, more for her own naughty pleasure than a real promise, “Blast it, Yusef, if you wake up right now I’ll give you the wildest night of sex you’ve ever had.”

She moved her kisses to his mouth. It wasn’t like he could hear her anyway.

Yusef felt himself coming out of a black hole into a whole new kind of dream. This dream was hot and moist and was doing wicked things to his prone body. His lips were parted. He tried to move, but he was too weak to do anything about the erotically charged tracing of his mouth.

Was that a tongue that slipped into him? No, it wasn’t wet like a tongue.

“Stage three,” he heard a whisper and the heat was gone from his body. His entire being lurched in protest. He wanted the heat to come back before the black hole consumed him once more.

His wish was answered. The heat came to him, only this time it was on his hips. He felt a brush to his naked cock, awakening as it had his mouth. Whatever was doing it, he didn’t want it to stop.

Oh, he thought in dazed pleasure, now that is a tongue.

The ruthlessly delightful caress moved over his stomach and chest, detouring at his nipples, only to continue to his neck and ear. His loins lurched at the sensation. Then, he felt the press of womanly offering. His erection filled with painful urgency, ready to probe the damp and torturous heat.

The tongue met his ear, swirling around the rim, and teeth were soon behind it to bite his lobe. Hearing words he would never forget, in a voice that called to him like a siren’s song, Olena said to him, “Damn it, Yusef, if you wake up right now I’ll give you the wildest night of sex you’ve ever had.”

His hand twitched, fighting against all odds to move.

“If you get out of this hospital tomorrow, I’ll even give you a second night as your love slave,” Olena swore.

Yusef heard. He memorized. He planned to collect.

Her tongue dipped in short thrusts to tempt his mouth to moving. Hotly, she said against his lips, “I’ll do any sordid thing you want, in any position, in any place. Just come out of this blasted coma.”

Breaking free, Yusef moaned. He lifted his hands to her hips, running over her smooth waist. His lips parted and he pressed her teasing mouth more fully to his, deepening to an instantly passionate kiss.

Olena jolted in surprise, but as his expert lips parted to taste her, she forgot her attempt to stop. He edged his finger up to her breasts, tweaking the hard nipples. His wife moaned.

“Oh, firebird.” His voice was husky. She felt like a soft, warm dream. Her sex worked along his cock, not taking him in, but not pulling away as she rocked herself against the hardened length.

He pulled his hands from her breasts, knowing what her body wanted from him. He wanted it too. With a strength he shouldn’t have been capable of, he firmly grabbed her hips and lifted her up. Olena gasped in surprise, pulling up and away from his lips. It was too late to stop his intent.

Yusef positioned himself with blind ease. Her fire called to him. He didn’t stop to think. A woman as bold and passionate as this would know what she asked for. With a jerk of his strong hands, he impaled his arousal deeply into her warm, tight body.

Olena froze as he broke through the tight seal of her pussy. A cry left her lips in a soft whimper. She trembled softly, but nothing more than a light plea came out.

Yusef felt her passion draining to be replaced by fear. Suddenly, the uncomfortable tightness of her body sunk into his dazed brain. His eyes blinked open, already shifted to yellow in his passion. He saw her clearly, the stunned horror of her expression.

“What was that, firebird?” His mind might have been subdued, but his thick arousal was still ready to complete its task.

“Oh,” she said instead of answering, catching her breath. She struck out in the only way she could think to answer. “I should have known you were faking sick, knight!”

Yusef glanced around the hospital room, completely confused.

Olena sprang into action. She pulled herself off of him, flinching once the hardness was gone. Without stopping, she hopped down to the floor, her legs wobbling as she landed. Digging through the sheets at his feet, she tossed one over his naked body to hide him from view. She refused to look at him, as she found her shirt and tugged it over her head.

Yusef tried to sit up, but it was too hard to move. Pain shot over his back. Olena bent over and he saw the telltale sign of blood on her creamy inner thigh. It hit him like bricks to the gut. She had been pure.

Only when she was completely covered, did she turn back to look at him. She had regained some of her fiery composure, but her eyes were not so mischievous when she looked at him. Her lips opened, looking as if they were ready to scream. Her jaw snapped closed and she clearly did the most dignified thing she could think of. She ran away.

Yusef watched her leave, desperate to go after her. Her confusion and torment washed over him, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back into his arms and show her that coupling didn’t have to be like this—that if she had told him she was innocent, he would never had embedded himself into her so roughly or deeply. He would have broken her body in slowly. If she’d told him right away, he would have taken a different approach to her passions.

How was he supposed to know the brazen beauty he had married wasn’t as brazen as she seemed? The woman kissed like an expert. She walked around, seemingly free with her nudity as if it were the most natural thing for her to do, as if many had seen her body and she knew how to use it.

“Olena,” he whispered, wishing he had the strength to command her back to him. “Don’t go.”

Olena didn’t turn back. Hitting the button on the wall, she watched as the door slid open. To her mortification, she realized Yusef’s parents were waiting literally right outside the door. Seeing her pale face, they shot forward in worry.

“Your son’s awake,” she croaked to stop their questions. With that she took off down the corridor, leaving the confused king and queen to stare after her before rushing to their son.

Yusef was surprised to see his parents. He had been doing his best to work his pants back over his hips and was glad they were mostly righted before they walked in. Seeing the concern in his mother’s eyes, he shot her a crooked smile. Instantly, she relaxed.

“Yusef,” She didn’t touch him now that he was awake, but the motherly instinct was strong in her, and he read it well in her face, without her having to say a word.

“Where did Olena go?” he asked, trying to sit up.

“She took off down the hall,” the king said. “Don’t worry. All the guards have orders not to let the princesses out of the castle.

Seeing Yusef’s concern, Queen Mede added, “She’d been by your side since she got here. I’m sure her running off is because she’s embarrassed.”

Yusef frowned. Did his parents know what just happened between him and his wife?

“Olena was kidnapped by the Var,” the king said. The queen frowned, but sat back to let the men talk. Father and son had their own ways. The king quickly filled him in on the whole story, finishing with, “She handled herself well.”

Yusef nodded, his heart racing to think what could have happened if his family hadn’t been there.

“You see,” the queen added, breaking in with her soft wisdom. “She wouldn’t let us check her in the medic for internal injury. When your father and brothers found her, she was tied to a tree, naked from the waist up. It’s our fear that she’s…”

Yusef thought of what just happened. He knew it wasn’t possible she’d been raped.

“Well, that could be why she ran out of here so fast,” the queen said. “She might be ashamed by what happened. She has a proud, fighting spirit.”

Yusef nodded. “I will speak to her.”

Queen Mede sighed, knowing her son wouldn’t judge Olena for it. Rape was never the victim’s fault.

Glancing at his wife, the king said, “Go get the doctor.”

Queen Mede nodded and stood.

“Now, about your attack,” the king began when they were alone, looking Yusef over. “What exactly happened?”

Chapter 28

Olena didn’t stop as she hurried past the front entrance to the castle. The guard nodded at her as she went by him but did not block her way. By the expression on his face, he didn’t know who she was.

Seeing the village before her in the valley, she ran for the forest path that would lead down to the paved roads. It was dusk, but the three suns merely tamed themselves, giving a dark blue haze to the ground that she could easily see by. All she had to do was reach the Outpost to grab her Galactic ID’s and some clothes. Then she would be out of Yusef’s life for good.

Even if she had to go before King Attor of the Var and make a deal, she would never go back to the Draig palace. Nothing and no one could make her.

“Captain Olena.”

Olena froze as the dark, deep words came calmly from the forest. It was as if their speaker had been waiting for her. Her jaw lifted. The voice was not of her crew.

“I didn’t realize you were pirating these parts,” the man’s words continued. “It seems a little beneath your skills.”

Olena looked around the colossal forest, seeing the red earthen path before her surrounded by yellow ferns that looked green in the twilight. She didn’t move until she detected movement at her side. It was the flick of a match and a lighting of an old fashioned cigar. Only one person she knew smoked cigars.

“Doc?” Olena asked in surprise. She never imagined she would find a head of the Medical Alliance here. Taken aback, she couldn’t speak through her confusion. Doc Aleksander was someone she had crossed paths with a few times on minor jobs. He stayed out of her way and she stayed out of his, after paying a small fee of rights of course. It was robbery on his part, but Olena just smiled. It was usually robbery on hers. Finding her voice, as the orange glow illuminated the man’s dark face, she said, “I didn’t know the Alliance was doing missionary work on this forsaken planet. What brings you?”

Aleksander stepped out from the trees, pushing off the rough bark, as if he were in the finest of gentleman’s clubs. His movements were graceful and refined. When he waved his cigar around, it was with an air of elegance. He wore a dark suit, expensive and handsomely cut. His hair was slicked back, the locks matching the black of his thick mustache, which twitched when he spoke or took a long draw, as he was doing now. He smiled as the smoke curled out of his lips.

“A minor detour,” he dismissed with a wave.

Olena didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare show fear. Men like Doc Aleksander never traveled alone. She could just imagine the biogenic goons he had hidden in the trees. Pretending as if she had all the time in the world, she said, “Me too.”

“So you don’t have something going, Captain?” His eyes roamed over her tousled hair and pale cheeks. Taking in her lithe body, he let an interested smile form on his lips.

“Sorry, Doc,” Olena said.

She held her ground as he stepped daringly closer. Nerves jumped all over her skin. This man was bad news. She’d heard horror stories about what he’d done to people who merely looked at him wrong. He’d surgically remove their eyes without letting them pass out first.

“You know I’ve always been straight with you,” Olena said. “I lost my ship and had to hitch a fast ride. The ride landed me here. If I had a scam, I’d let you in on it. But you know me. I always end up where the money is. I’ll find something to pay my insurance policy with. I just need a little time first to get the angle. For a primitive race, these shifters aren’t too badly off.”

“Shifters?” the Doc asked. Olena thought he would have known. His type usually knew everything there was to know. His eyes narrowed slightly in displeasure. He was also rumored to be a purist. He put up with alien races out of necessity, but he didn’t think they were good enough to wipe a human’s…well… “Tell me Olena, do you know your way around here pretty well?”

“Well enough,” she answered, forcing herself to shrug. “There’s not much to know. This place is dreadfully barbaric.”

The man’s arm came forward to leisurely drape over her shoulders, as he strolled down the path with her, leading her deeper into the forest, away from the palace. Suddenly, her stomach lurched and she thought of Yusef. Doc’s cigar dipped dangerously close to her cheek, warming her skin. She smiled slightly, ignoring it. She didn’t for a moment think it was an accident.

“How would you like for you and your crew to never pay another insurance premium again?” he asked.

Olena’s ears perked up, intrigued by his offer. Such an opportunity never came up lightly. “I’m listening.”

“Do you think you could steal me a prize?” he asked smoothly, stopping to turn to her. His arm slid across the back of her shoulders as his free hand rose to touch the base of her throat. “It would be worth your while.”

“How worth?” she asked like a true pirate. Doc grinned in appreciation of her, as his hand trailed leisurely over her neck to rest lightly above her breasts. She didn’t flinch as he touched her, but she wanted to. His embrace was nothing like Yusef’s—even if her body still ached from where he’d skewered her.

“Name your price.” Doc moved his hand to flick the cigar before puffing. He dropped his hands from her chest. “Ah, damn, it’s too bad I’m a married man.”

Olena ignored the confession as his gaze moved over her like he wanted nothing more than to press her into the earthen floor. Feeling the twinge Yusef had put in her body, she said, “Passage off this rock.”

“Done.” Doc nodded.

“Fifty thousand,” she continued to barter, as was expected.

“Done.”

“My own spacecraft?” she questioned, letting an impish smile cross her features.

“I appreciate your greed,” he chuckled heartily. “Don’t push it.”

Knowing he wouldn’t be trying anything, she shrugged and pursed her lips together. She affected a sultry pout. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Especially one as devious as you, my dear Captain,” the Doc said. There was only pleasure in his tone, no disapproval.

Passage and fifty thousand? Not to mention immunity from the Medical Alliance for her and her crew. This deal was too good to pass up. The only drawback was that she had the feeling she would be going back inside the palace. If what he wanted was outside the fortress, he would have just taken it himself. She did not relish facing Yusef again. She was too mortified. But, if she refused Doc Aleksander’s direct request, she’d end up dead.

Better humiliation than torture, she thought.

“So, boss, what you looking to get?” she asked with a forcibly bright smile and a sparkle to her mischievous eyes. “If it can be lifted off the ground, Captain Olena can rightly steal it.”

The Doc’s smile wavered from his features, as his expression lost all its charm. “My daughter, Nadja.”

Chapter 29

The palace keep was a dazzling place. For a fortress designed and decorated by a race of antiquated, warrior men, it was well done. There were five wings built into, up, and around the small mountain. Olena was told that each prince had designed his own section. Too her amazement, and judging by their homes, she discovered that the brothers were anything but carbon copies of each other. Whereas Morrigan’s home with Ualan was all fire, marble, and fur, Zoran and Pia’s wing was constructed with a wood finish, giving the place a real oriental lodge feeling to it. Yusef’s home was too plain, though she had a feeling the Outpost is where he spent most of his time.

Prince Olek and Princess Nadja’s home teemed with lush plant life. It grew out from a sunroom to vine around a door and part of the trellised ceiling. Giant fish tanks took up two walls entirely. One was clear with an oversized pink sucker fish adhered to the glass, and blue fish with big, blinking eyes. The second had dark murky waters that Olena couldn’t see into except for hints of life that fluttered past the glass.

In the center of the hall was a natural water fountain, relaxing and calm in its resplendent beauty. It too had plant life growing in its stone crevices. The water fixture did nothing to soothe the sour temperaments of the four gathered princesses.

Olena didn’t go back to Yusef in the medical ward, choosing to do the cowardly thing and hide out. He was trapped in the hospital and so couldn’t go to his palace home. She took advantage of that fact and quarantined herself from the rest of the family. Only by the grace of Queen Mede was she fed when a servant brought her a tray of food. The queen had come to the home once to give her a tour of the palace and to introduce her to her new sisters-by-marriage. It had been extremely awkward.

She was surprised to get Nadja’s invitation to join her and the other princesses for a visit. But, thinking of Doc, she knew she had no choice. She had to go, if only to judge his daughter for herself. She didn’t see a way around it. If she didn’t retrieve the woman for him, he would find a way to get to his daughter himself, and Olena’s body would never be found.

How did a man like Doc Aleksander produce a daughter like Nadja? It seemed a complete mystery. Perhaps Nadja was raised away from him and his dealings.

Looking around at the other high-backed chairs, Olena noticed the others looked as dismal as she felt, especially Morrigan, whose unusually pale face and red eyes, screamed that she was hung-over. Stretching her arms over her head, Morrigan yawned. It was the most movement she had made in a long while.

“So, have any of your husbands lied to you about who they are?” Olena tried to encourage conversation. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and her eyes flashed with purposeful mischief to hide what she was really feeling. Maybe the Doc’s daughter would want to be rescued and returned to him. Maybe she’d be doing the woman a favor by taking her back.

“I thought mine was a prison guard,” Pia chuckled. Olena glanced at her. Okay, there was one unhappy princess.

“I used to call mine a gardener,” Morrigan said, tucking her hand beneath her head on the high-backed chair. Mumbling softly, she said so as not to disturb her delicate head, “And a caveman.”

The other women chuckled. Olena frowned slightly. Morrigan didn’t appear to be too unhappy, though she was obviously in physical discomfort. Olena couldn’t tell if it was because she didn’t like Prince Ualan or because she’d drunk to excess the night before.

Nadja just blushed shyly. “I call mine a dragon.”

Hum, Olena thought, that answer was vague.

“They’re all dragons, if you ask me.” Morrigan winked at Nadja.

Nadja halfheartedly laughed as she rose to answer a summons from the door. It was the queen.

Queen Mede stepped into the intimate circle of women and nodded. “I heard you all were hiding out here.”

Olena didn’t move. She kept her expression veiled as she watched the three women. Nadja smiled in genuine kindness. Morrigan miserably refused to move. Pia looked guarded, as if she didn’t know how to take the queen.

“How’s Yusef?” Olena asked, before she could stop to think. She suddenly blushed at the outburst and refused to glance at the other women.

“Still awake,” the queen answered. “And still with his brothers. They speak of fighting and fighting always makes warriors happy, for it is something they know how to do.”

Olena nodded, leaning back in her chair and trying to pretend she didn’t care either way. No one was fooled.

Queen Mede glanced at the hung-over Morrigan and raised her delicate brow slightly. Morrigan had to turn away. To her credit, the queen said nothing.

Nadja suddenly asked if anyone wanted something to drink. Morrigan balked and instantly declined, turning a shade paler.

“No, dear, we’re fine,” the queen answered. Silence followed. When the lingering nothingness became almost unbearable, the queen announced, “Daughters.”

The princesses looked at Queen Mede expectantly. The queen came forward and took a seat amongst them, looking them over in turn.

Olena saw the woman’s cunning and wondered what she was up to. When she had given the palace tour, the queen had tried probing her. Olena had given the woman nothing, artfully avoiding all her veiled questions.

“Enough of this. This planet is in desperate need of more women and I intend to see that each one of you explore the power you possess,” the queen said. “Your husbands are warriors. I expect by now each of you has a clear idea of what that means. But just because they made the rules, doesn’t mean you can’t use them. You have more power than you think. So, tell me your problems with my sons, and I’ll give you the Qurilixian solution. I think it’s time that the royal women had the upper hand for once.”

Slowly, one by one, the women smiled, growing more and more trusting of the earnest queen—all but Olena who only smiled because it was expected of her. The queen nodded, happy.

“Pia.” Queen Mede looked pointedly at the woman. “Why don’t you go first?”

Before Pia could answer, Olena slowly stood, drawing all eyes to her. Quietly, she said, “I should go check on Yusef.”

The queen nodded. The princesses were silent, all except for Nadja who ordered the door open. Olena silently trailed out of the home.

As the door slid shut, she heard the queen ask, “Has she said anything about her kidnapping?” Silence met the question, but someone must have gestured in denial because the queen added, “Poor, poor woman. I can’t imagine the horror she went through.”

Yusef grinned, happy to be surrounded by his brothers. Even though they made jokes about the scratch his man bits had received from his wife’s blade, he still managed to laugh at the good-natured teasing. Naturally, he was still sore about having to put her in chastisement. But discovering she was a virgin at the time lessened his irritation.

“On the way back to the palace,” Zoran stated, “she almost unseated our little brother from his ceffyl.”

Olek frowned. “I don’t envy you a bit, brother. I almost did you the favor of dropping her back off at the Var doorstep.”

Yusef chuckled, knowing Olek jested.

“I owe you all a great debt in retrieving my little firebird.” Yusef turned serious. “Her medicine is just what I needed to come around.”

“Oh,” Ualan laughed wryly. “I don’t want to hear any of that.”

Yusef grinned, proud and unashamed.

“So how are your wives?” Yusef asked. Instantly, the princes’ expressions faded. Yusef sighed. They didn’t readily answer. Then, to lighten the mood, he said, “Well, whatever it is, at least they didn’t try to dismember you.”

The brothers laughed anew.

Chapter 30

Olena stepped quietly to the medical ward door. Her heart hammered wildly at the sound of male laughter. She had left Nadja’s about an hour before, only now getting the nerve to face Yusef. Pausing to listen, she didn’t understand what was said, as they spoke in their native tongue.

The doctor had found her out wandering the halls, and told her to retrieve her husband. Yusef was free to go home, but the doctor wanted him supervised for the walk, and thought his wife the best one for the job. He then rattled off a bunch of care instructions, all of which Olena was sure she would never remember.

Suddenly, a servant rushed past her into the medical ward and the laughter stopped. He came back, followed by Prince Zoran. She nodded at the prince and he distractedly returned the gesture.

Olena went to face her husband. It didn’t take but a moment for his eyes to find her. He looked almost completely recovered, except for the sling around his arm. It lay against his delectably naked chest. Olek and Ualan looked at each other and quickly stood to leave. Olena glanced at them both, returning Olek’s slight frown with one of her own.

When they were alone, she asked softly, “Are you ready? They said for me to come and get you.”

Yusef threw his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes devoured her every curve. “Olena,” he began.

Olena scowled. His tone was too tender for her. “Mention what happened and I’ll do more than earn chastisement.”

Yusef grinned and said no more.

“I assume you can walk?” she gestured for him to follow, but didn’t wait to see if he would. Olena hastened ahead of him into the passageway leading to his palace home.

Yusef admired his wife’s fighting spirit, and the view he was given of her very firm backside when she walked before him. He limped to keep up with her pace. The muscles in his back spasmed at the strain caused by the movement.

“Hey,” he called, needing to stop from the furiously growing pace. Olena turned to him at the grunt of his voice. He leaned against a wall, resting and breathing hard. To his husbandly pleasure, her face fell as she forgot everything else to rush to his side.

Olena studied his face and lightly moved her hands along his bare chest in concern. Over a dozen long, angry gashes slashed over his skin. They were healed shut, but they hurt terribly.

“What happened to you?” Her voice was weak.

Taken aback by her tormented voice, he lifted the arm that wasn’t in a sling so he could cup her cheek. He stroked the soft skin. “Didn’t they tell you?”

Olena nodded. “But you really didn’t see who did this to you?”

“No. But, we will find the truth.” Yusef’s thumb moved to trace her lip and he felt her tremble. He dropped his hand.

“What is it? Are you hurting?”

Yusef merely smiled and she wrinkled her nose at the obviousness of her question.

“I mean, do you want to turn back?” she clarified.

Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “Did you mean it when you said you meant to leave me?”

Olena drew herself up, straightening away from him. Her eyes clouded once more, the delicate bond between them severed by her will.

“I’m not princess material, knight.” She slipped an arm around his lower back to help him walk. He leaned on her as they took a slower pace. “How about we leave it at that for now?”

They moved in silence. Yusef was tormented by her words.

Once in Yusef’s palace home, Olena let him go. “I was told to see if you needed help bathing.”

No, he didn’t need help, but he wouldn’t admit to as much. A small plan formed in his mind, and Yusef decided that maybe there were ways to convince his stubborn wife she belonged with him. Anything was worth a try.

“You wouldn’t mind?” He affected a small groan of pain. It wasn’t too much of a stretch. His back did hurt.

“No,” she rushed, “of course not.”

Yusef’s brow lifted at her ready answer.

“Well,” she continued, “you did bathe me when I was sick. It’s the least I can do for you. And the doctors did leave you to my care. Though, I have to tell you, I am no nursemaid.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Yusef’s eyes lit as he thought of how she’d brought him out of his coma. A little more of that medicine and he would be ready to take on the entire Var army.

Yusef felt the rush of her desire hitting him and was relieved. It would seem their encounter in the medical ward hadn’t turned her off to him completely. He would just have to show her a softer, gentler approach to her body, one that would melt her to him. The greater, straining, rougher passions would come later. He wondered how hard it would be to convince her to let him soothe the ache he delved into her. She had softened to his will so easily in the past.

“Maybe you should shift.” She bit her lip thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down and up again, as if she would have him shift for her at that very moment.

A long silence passed. Finally, Yusef said, “I can’t. It would stress the wounds.”

“Oh,” she mumbled.

Yusef grinned. Was that disappointment he heard? Damned, but if his wife wasn’t an intoxicating vixen. If she was that eager to play with his dragon form, he would gladly let her. Not that he could feel her so well behind the hard armor of his shifted skin. Smiling, he knew there were other games they could play before he shifted back to man so that he could take her. Captive and Captor came instantly to mind, as did Hunter and the Hunted.

His eyes flashed with the golden hues of passion, which he quickly subdued before she could see the full force of his desire.

“I think you should probably use the hot spring so you can sit down,” she said, leading him toward the bathroom.

The hot spring was all right with Yusef. Thinking of her administering hands on his body, he groaned. When she glanced back at the sound, he turned his lustful gaze to an instant grimace of pain.

“Maybe they let you go too early,” she said, more to herself.

His back hurt from walking, but the pain was worth it if he got to spend the evening with her, and he did not protest his own discomfort.

“No, I made them let me out. I was promised a love slave if I left. I believe the exact words were, ‘I’ll do any sordid thing you want, in any position, in any place.’”

“I only said that to get you to wake up.”

“It worked.”

Olena hid her reddening face from him and motioned that he should get in the bath.

“So, you had no time to shift before the attack?” She knew the answer, but asked anyway to fill the silence. It was perhaps the worst image she could bring to mind. She was curious to see what he looked like—completely shifted. Would everything turn hard with armor, like if his...well…

“I will gladly shift for you later,” he said, as if reading her naughty thoughts.

“Oh, stop!” She glared at him, her hands on her hips as she turned to face him. “Let’s just get it all out now. So I was technically a virgin. It doesn’t make you some kind of conquering hero or anything. You just happened to be the first man opportunity arose with. I mean everyone else I had been with up until you, I was trying to steal from, and they got stuck with the firefly pin before anything could come of it. And there is my crew, but they are even more alien and stranger than you are. So, get your manly smiles over with and let’s drop it. Okay? Great.”

Yusef merely grinned, unfazed by her speech.

“Oh, you’re impossible.” She grimaced, rolling her eyes. “Come on. Into the bath.”

Yusef followed her direction. When he didn’t undress, she looked at him expectantly. “Would you mind? I can’t bend over yet.”

Olena automatically looked down to his groin. Shaking herself, she cleared her throat. “No, of course you can’t.”

She kept her eyes averted as she stripped off his pants, refusing to look at him. It’s not like she hadn’t seen naked men before him. But now, remembering how he had felt inside her, she became nervous. She bit her lips and tried to take his pants down by pinching the sides with the tips of her fingers. He chuckled at her efforts. It took her awhile to realize his pants were caught on his erection.

“Would you mind getting my sling?” Yusef’s voice dipped. Her eyes darted to him and her composure wavered. “Is something wrong?”

“Ah. No, no, nothing.”

The sling was tied at his shoulder and she had to press close to his side to untie it. Yusef let his naked thigh brush against her pants. She tensed, very aware of where his body met hers. She fumbled longer than she should have, but when she pulled back he was freed.

Yusef smiled at her, stepping into the hot bath. He slowly sank down onto the seat. “Why don’t you take your clothes off and come in?” His eyes lit with challenge, seeming to say, you’re not embarrassed, are you? “You’ll be better able to help me.”

Olena eyed him, but in the end thought he was too injured to engage in too much seduction. Feeling very aware of her body, she pulled off her shirt. When his eyes lit with approval, she had a sense of pleasure from his interest. She wasn’t so quick to take off her pants and reveal the moistening of her sex to him. That significant part lit with its own ideas. In fact, her body seemed treacherously eager to have him again. She felt a pull deep inside her, and drew hot at the mere look of him in the bubbling water. It took her longer to step into the bath than it should have.

Yusef was gentleman enough not to comment. His gaze dipped down over her throat and chest as she lowered herself into the warm water. Her breasts bobbed near the surface, the water lapping against her nipples to make them hard. His hands twitched as if they would disobey him and touch her.

Olena took soap and handed it over to him. Again, he said, “Would you mind terribly?”

Her mouth went dry from her rapid breathing, but she pushed forward. She parted her lips as her finger found the flesh of his hard chest. She lathered him in circles, running all over his upper body. She touched his back lightly, mindful of his wounds.

Olena pulled away. She looked at the water. “Can you lift your foot?”

Yusef flinched, but managed. As her breast brushed against him, he didn’t seem to care about his injuries. She cleaned one foot and hair-roughened calf, then the other.

“Maybe you should stand.” Olena licked her lips. The texture of his skin mesmerized her.

He hesitated only a moment before standing to reveal the full, proud length of his arousal. He cradled his arm to his chest and waited. Yusef shrugged. “I can’t help the reaction. Can you work around it?”

Olena nodded. She moved her hands from where the water hit his lower thighs, working up over his legs to his hips. She rose as she cleaned him. His member came temptingly close to her mouth. She’d never taken one between her lips, but she had heard some of the men speaking of such things and how it brought them endless pleasure. Would it bring Yusef pleasure?

Olena’s fingers skimmed over to his ass. She lathered him, standing so close she could feel the heat of his body radiating into hers.

His eyes darkened when her fingers stayed too long on his backside, her fingers turning from washing to caressing, to all out fondling as she gravitated naturally closer to him. Touching her face, he asked, “Do you still hurt?”

Olena’s gaze turned down at the bold question. When she didn’t answer, he slid his hand down her side.

“Turn around,” he urged.

Olena pulled her hands away.

“Trust me. I want to show you something.”

Olena couldn’t refuse the soft entreaty of his eyes or the firmly moving lines of his lips. Yusef held her around the flat of her stomach and drew her back against him. Their bodies angled so that his erection pressed into the softness of her backside, parting her slightly against his length. Not moving to penetrate, he began gliding his good hand over her flesh.

Yusef drew his fingers over her nipples, circling and pinching them with agonizing attention, before moving his hands down over her stomach to rest briefly above her pussy’s opening. Olena tensed, her head falling back on his shoulder. She shook in anticipation.

His lips were at her ear, nipping and soothing. “I’m going to give you the pleasure you should have felt the first time.”

She shivered, awakening enough from her haze at his words to try and pull away. His strong arm tensed. He pulled her once more against his hardness. He delved his fingers to part her body ever so slightly.

Olena couldn’t stop her hips from responding as he rubbed at her sensitive clit. Her back arched into him and a whimper of pleasure escaped her lips. His kisses pressed her neck as his hand pressed her sex. Her hips jerked, naturally seeking to ease their tension as they thrust up and down in light movements. Her body was fevered from washing him and now, to feel him touching her, she moaned.

Yusef bent lower, pushing his fingers along her slick heat. The beginnings of a tremor radiated from where his hand touched and he hadn’t even entered his fingers into her. She bucked her hips and she shook with a sudden force. Climax came hard and fast. Her hot moisture pooled on his fingers as she jerked against it in pleasure.

Yusef growled. Her cry echoed around them. She became limp, leaning into his arm for support. Her ragged breath fell heavy as she naturally turned her lips to nudge him.

“Yusef,” she said, awed by what she felt. He held her up. She turned and rested her head to his chest as she tried to calm her heartbeat.

Chapter 31

“You shouldn’t be left in such a state.” Olena peered down at his cock, which was still tense and pulsing with need.

The clean smell of his flesh and the look of his rock hard body caused her desires to renew. Still weak in the wake of her pleasure, she forgot who she was and how she expected herself to react. This moment was perfection and being with him was all she wanted.

“Tell me how to ease you.” Her eyes didn’t meet his, as her hand fluttered forward to touch his arousal. She curled her fingers around the shaft. She’d never taken things this far and was in new territory. But, what better partner to teach her than her husband who already showed a generous desire for her?

Something in the back of her mind awakened to warn against such things, telling her it would be more difficult to leave if she let him continue. Another, stronger voice, told her it would be more difficult for her if she didn’t. She couldn’t keep resisting him and still manage to think straight at the same time. To deny him was to deny herself. If she just let him complete what they’d started, maybe he’d be out of her system and she could again get focused on returning to her old life.

When Yusef didn’t move, Olena glanced shyly up at him. His lids were lowered in pleasure at her willing touch. Why did her old life of adventure suddenly seem so dull and uninteresting? Why was this ugly, white house suddenly holding more appeal than the luxurious comforts of her captain’s quarters? Why was being bound to this dragon-man more tempting than precious freedom?

Her lips parted. The ache inside her became unbearable, making her want to run. The pain had nothing to do with the desires festering inside her stomach. Tears moistened her eyes. She would never allow them to fall.

“Yusef?” She thought of Doc Aleksander and what she had to do for him. It’s not like the man had given her a choice. And when the Medical Mafia wanted something from you, you didn’t naysay them. To do so would mean certain pain, death if you were lucky, and most assuredly, the destruction of everything and everyone you held dear.

“What is it?”

Olena’s hand left his arousal to skim up his chest.

I need to tell you something, her mind whispered. I’m going to run out on you and steal one of your sisters-by-marriage.

Olena hated herself for what she would do to Yusef and his family. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” he insisted.

“It’s nothing,” she said, breathless. “Will you kiss me?”

He gave her a quizzical smile, but lowered his head, assaulting her senses with a tender force of passion that left her mind numb and her limbs liquid. As he pulled back, her entire body shook and Olena was sure she was going to explode into nothingness.

She leaned into him, feeling his heart beneath her palm. Her eyes were still closed, her lips still pursed as if he were even now against them. Her lashes fluttered to catch a glimpse of a devilishly handsome smile. He dipped down once more.

Olena moaned softly. She was too far gone to think or calculate. Winding her hand around his broad neck, she ran her fingers through the soft silken texture of his dark hair.

When he pulled back to let her breathe, she whispered without thought, “I was so afraid that you were going to die.” It was not a sentiment of love, but it was the closest she’d ever come to admitting she cared for him. She lightly touched the scars on his back. “They will heal, won’t they?” Her eyes moved to capture his. “You’re going to be fine, right?”

Yusef nodded. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to hers as he passionately kissed her. Only by the power of her hands around his shoulders, and the strength of his good arm around her back, did she stay upright. Her knees gave out from under her and she swayed against him.

When he pulled back, his eyes were flecked with golden promise and Olena knew she had her answer.

“I’m not going anywhere, firebird,” he said tenderly, “except to take my wife to bed.”

Olena trembled. The bedroom seemed so intimate, so permanent. She couldn’t allow herself to fall deeper into his maddening spell. A smile spread over her parted lips, and she let an unmistakable mischief overtake her gaze.

“Why not here?” She smoothed her hands along his body and pressed kisses to his chest and stomach. Yusef tensed, unable to deny her mouth as she trailed it lower.

He moaned. He tangled his fingers into her hair, urging her to continue her wayward descent. Her breath fell rapid and hot against his flesh.

Olena kissed the tip of his arousal before tracing feathery caresses along the shaft to the base. His body lurched.

He quickly sat down. Olena blinked in surprise.

“Come here,” he said in a voice filled with promise. “I’ll show you how to ease us both.”

Olena straddled his lap. The heat from the steam made her hair stick to her flesh like streaks of fire. A long wave curled around the bend of her breast. He lifted his hand to follow the wet trail of her locks, moving to brush them back as he unveiled the nipple puckered beneath. Olena shivered. Yusef caressed the hard bud with the backs of his fingers.

Slowly, his eyes burning into her, he grasped her hip. Pulling her forward, he urged her closer to his cock.

“I’ve burned for you, Olena, since the first moment I saw you, standing defiant and beautiful at the mouth of that spacecraft. I knew I would have you then, as I want you now.”

He dipped his fingers into the water, reaching to feel her. Olena’s hands fell to his shoulders as he stroked a fire into her. As her hips responded in restless motion against him, he slid a finger inside of her to stroke more intimately.

Soon the hand wasn’t enough. She need more—much more. She needed him. She needed to feel him inside of her. Olena leaned over, kissing his wet neck, drinking from his glorious skin. Her lips nipped at his ear, delighting in the shivering response.

He took his fingers from her, moving so he could enter her. Olena stiffened slightly, remembering how full he’d felt the last time. Her thighs clenched, keeping him from easing her downward.

“Mmm.” He moaned at her resistance. “You control the depth. Don’t be afraid of me.”

Olena couldn’t resist the plea in his words as his hand once more pulled her to take him. Not looking up, she felt his hand against her leg as he guided himself to her opening. He rubbed the tip several times against her, letting her get used to his hardness. Then, ever so slowly, he pushed his arousal just into the slick entrance of her body.

Olena was rewarded with pleasure. Slowly, she loosened her legs and slid down to capture him. Yusef appeared as if he wanted nothing more than to grab her and slam her down. Biting his lips, he resisted.

Olena gradually fit him inside her, feeling the unyielding fullness as she accepted his length and accommodated his size. Olena pushed up and he went deeper still.

His voice caught as he spoke. “Move me in you.”

Olena pulled up a fraction and then lowered. The thrust was achingly shallow.

“Again,” he commanded. His hands gripped her tighter as if he fought the beast within him that wanted nothing more than to begin mindlessly pumping and ramming into her softness.

Olena pulled up only to repeat the same aching torment. Her body burned for more, but she was still getting used to the feel of him, still discovering the sensations.

“Again.” His voice ground out in a pain.

This time when she moved, he lifted her up higher. Olena protested and forced her hips down. The water caused her to slide from his grip, and she came down forcefully upon him. Olena cried out in pleasant surprise. She was rewarded with a gratifying wave of pleasure.

Yusef’s groan joined hers.

“Just like that, firebird.” Yusef again lifted her. “Do it again.”

Olena lifted up only to push down hard as her ass hit his legs. Yusef’s hand kneaded along the curve of her back, moving to her breasts to circle and pinch her nipples.

“Faster,” he urged. “Take me faster.”

Olena obliged and was richly rewarded. Her hips took over, mindlessly driving against him, building their ecstasy. It was like nothing she had ever felt.

When she tensed, Yusef pushed up from the seat and thrust up, going as deeply as her body would take him. Olena cried out, arching back. She quivered violently. His body answered her call, jerking roughly as they released all the tension that had been building since the night they first met.

Olena dropped against him, terrified she could feel so much, and unable to process the rush flowing between them—not only with their physical release, but their minds and bodies as he tried to connect to her. Shudders wracked her. It was too much for her to handle, as she knew she would leave him soon, would deceive him so horribly that the affectionate expression on his face would never hold. After she delivered his brother’s wife to Doc Aleksander, he wouldn’t even be able to look at her.

Something had to give and since her body had a mind of its own, still encasing him inside her, it was her emotions that shut off to him, blocking the connection before it could take root

Yusef felt the snap between them as sharp and real as a slap across the face. They’d been so close. Only a second more and he would have been able to read her completely, and she him. But she refused the intimacy of his mind and soul. The feeling left him cold and weary.

“Olena?” He wondered at her mental withdrawal.

“Hum?” Olena moaned into his neck. She must have detected pain in his voice and mistook it for physical. She took herself off him, her wide eyes checking him over for injury. “Oh, Yusef, I’m sorry, your back.”

He let her think what she wanted, having no desire to put unreturned feelings at her feet. He did have some measure of pride left, even if this vixen he called a wife had taken everything else from him—including his heart.

Her flushed features filled with concern, as she said, “Why didn’t you stop me? You didn’t break anything open, did you? Can you move? Are you paralyzed?”

Yusef chuckled despite himself as she tried to move around to see his back. If ever he was to be injured, let it be with her thrusting like a flaming tree-witch on top of him.

His member grew with alarming speed at the thought. His mouth twitched, as he wickedly replied, “Feel me and see if you think me paralyzed.”

Olena blushed, all the way to the roots of her hair. She looked down. Indeed, she could see the tip of him in the water. “Again?”

Yusef grinned and shrugged. “It seems I like your medicine better than that of the doctors.”

“Should we get out of the bath?”

“Where would you have us go?” He captured her lips. His back did indeed feel loosened from the hot water, and he found himself very ready to try something more vigorous.

“I, uh…” She glanced around. “Where do you want me?”

Standing, he pulled her with him. Her breast slid over his body, the nipple hardening against him. Boldly he kissed the breath from her, only to release her when her knees were bending and her hands were clutching at his shoulders. Growling against her mouth, he said dirtily, “I would have you deeply impaled on my shaft.”

Chapter 32

Olena sat curled on a chair, fully clothed, chewing absently on her thumbnail as she watched Yusef. Her body ached in a hundred different ways, all of them a testament to how much he had recovered. Only after the third time coming together on the white fur rug before the fireplace, did Olena climb from on top of him and demand he go to bed and rest.

When he lay down, his body worn out and past all imaginable limits, he reached for her to join him. To his obvious dismay, she refused, using the excuse of his injuries not to lie intimately beside him while they slept, lest she hurt him when she tossed in sleep. Making herself a bed on the white couch before the roaring fire, she had inevitably drifted off into the nightmarish world of her dreams.

Now that it was morning, she felt the weight of her world bearing down on her. Doc Aleksander wouldn’t wait long for her compliance. Comforting herself with the fact that Doc was a family man—so much so that he wouldn’t cheat on his wife, no matter how hot his desire was—Olena tried not to feel guilty. Surely the man would welcome his daughter with open arms, taking her back into the protective fold of his powerful world. Besides, the reasons why the woman left him in the first place were a family matter, best resolved between them as a family.

Her reasoning did not settle well inside her.

Yusef stirred, drawing her thoughts. He’d grimaced a few times in his sleep, but his body stretched out and his arm didn’t lock against his chest in pain. He came awake, and turned to her as if automatically sensing her presence in the still room. A soft smile curled his features briefly.

“I was about to wake you,” Olena said. “It’s early, but you have to meet with the war council.”

Yusef had confessed as much to her the night before—in between orgasms. King Attor was being given the right of defense, as per a truce set before the Draig and Var nobility years ago. If the king was responsible for Morrigan’s poisoning and Yusef’s attack, then there would be justice and possible war.

Olena could do nothing about the war. And the bloodthirsty, vengeful side of her nature would gladly see justice done on Yusef’s behalf. But this was a matter for the Draig royal family. Even though she was technically a part of their family, she knew she could take no real stand with them. She wouldn’t be staying to see any of her hotheaded declarations through, and she wouldn’t be the cause of a battle she couldn’t fight herself.

Olena also understood she wasn’t to leave Yusef’s house this day. He told her spies were most likely in the palace. Whoever had stabbed him knew the back passages well enough to escape through them without being caught. King Attor himself had been far enough away to shield him from direct responsibility for the attack. Unless the Var king confessed, many nobles would be hesitant to escalate the war without solid proof. Yusef admitted they remembered all too well the losses the last resurgence had brought. Many had died and no one had won.

“Come here,” he said in a near whisper.

Olena unfolded her limbs and climbed off the chair. He was naked beneath the coverlet. His bare chest tempting her forward. She stood beside the bed, studying his handsome face. He didn’t move to sit up.

“Come lie with me,” he urged.

Olena wanted to. Oh, how desperately she wanted to. “No. You should get ready. I imagine with your wounds it will be slow going as it is. I can walk you to the war council—”

“No.” He grimaced as he forced himself to sit.

He threw the coverlet from his body and Olena instantly glanced down to see the condition of his cock. It was half erect, just at the edge of filling. If she were to touch it, it would rise eagerly in her fingers ready to pleasure her.

“It isn’t safe for you in the halls, he said. “You must stay inside.”

Olena nodded and Yusef looked surprised when she did not protest the order.

“I mean it, firebird,” he insisted.

“Fine,” she stated with a stare that hardened her face. Then, relaxing just as quickly, she went toward the closet. “Which tunic do you want?”

Yusef moved his arms slowly to stretch the muscles in his lower back. “The council tunic is black with a silver dragon embroidered within a shield.”

Olena flipped through his clothes. A light flashed within the closet and she paused. It was a gold encrusted bracelet, fitted with rubies and emeralds. It was big enough to fit Yusef’s bicep. Now that was a prize worth stealing.

“Did you find it?”

Olena shook herself to her senses, and lied, “I’m just looking for boots that match…ah, got them.”

She carried his war tunic and shoes to him. Olena helped him don the tunic. It fitted snugly over his chest. If he even dared to look at her with his bedroom eyes she would have pushed him over and climbed on top of him. She quickly retrieved his pants.

Olena kneeled before him, looking up as he made a small sound. It was a mistake. His eyes had lowered as his member had risen. Her breath caught, as he said, “I don’t have to leave right away.”

Olena read his intent. Would this man never get enough? He was insatiable. As her body stirred to desire, pooling her midsection with hot moisture, she wanted to groan. Would she ever be sated?

“Come,” he said. “Climb on my lap.”

Olena hesitated. She had worked one foot into his pant leg.

“I promise you won’t regret it.”

Olena’s gaze again went to his arousal, engorged to the point she saw the distinct trailing of veins.

Yusef reached a hand to her, helping her to her feet. Her will was weak and she let him guide her. When she was standing, he latched his fingers into her waistband and jerked her pants off. Olena kicked the material from her feet.

Then, turning her so her ass was before his face, he growled. Olena shivered, wondering what he was up to.

Yusef leaned forward and nipped a cheek. Olena jerked. He pulled her firmly onto his lap. His legs nudged hers apart as she sat facing away from him.

“Lean forward,” he commanded with a growl forming in the base of his throat. “That’s right, just like that.”

Yusef explored her back, as if he memorized every curve. When her body tightened with desire, he backed up so that his calves were pressed firmly to the bed’s side.

“Bring your knees to the bed,” Yusef told her. Olena obeyed, using his knees for support as she leaned forward over the bed. The unsecured position made her heart race, knowing she could plunge helplessly to the floor if he released his hold on her hips.

Olena looked up, noticing how the mirror reflected her sordid reflection back to her. She watched her body squirm. Yusef’s hand curved around her shoulder to pull her back onto his awaiting arousal.

“You look so beautiful like this.” His eyes lit with fire as he watched their bodies join. “Like a wild wood sprite I want to tame.”

Olena loved it when he said naughty things to her, as if they hid the secret from the rest of the world. At his urging, she lifted and fell in repeated thrusts against him, driving him deep inside her body.

“Yes,” she whispered as he controlled her. A passionate rhythm was struck up between them.

Her hips beat fast, as he said, “You’re so hot and tight around my shaft.”

Olena trembled before he could get out another sinful phrase—though he undoubtedly had plenty more he could say to her. She worked her body faster until she was too overcome with pleasure to move. She cried out softly and his body jerked in instant response.

Weakly she climbed off of him, keeping her eyes down as she pulled on her pants. She hid her face behind her hair. When she finished, she helped him to dress. She then ran her hands over her face to secretly wipe the tears that fell, swiping the moisture across her face to her hair as she pulled the heavy locks off her neck.

“Olena…?” Yusef began part in demand, part in question.

“You’re going to be late.” She affected a bright smile. “Go see to your justice.”

Yusef nodded. “I need my crown.”

Olena retrieved it from the closet and set it gingerly atop his head. She brushed his hair back from his face, lightly combing down the dark strands with her fingers.

Wearily he stood, and sighed. She knew he did not look forward to his task. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. Then, taking his sling from the dresser, he wrapped his arm and strapped it behind his neck as he walked to the front door. Turning for one last look, he said, “Don’t wait up. These things can take all day. A servant will come around with food. Have him drop it off at the door and wait before you open to retrieve it. Don’t let anyone in.”

Olena obediently nodded.

With a stiff command to the door, he strode from the house to do his duty.

Chapter 33

King Attor denied all charges. Yusef hated the smug look on his face, almost as much as he hated the pretense of having to convene the war council. Of course, he would never say this to his family. He respected tradition. He also knew the Var ruler wouldn’t admit to anything. King Attor was a liar and a coward. And, as the cat-shifter was under the protection of the convened council, Yusef couldn’t call the man such to his face.

Zoran was in charge of military matters, representing the Draig, with a Var warrior of equal ranking opposite him. Olek presided over the whole affair, doing his best as ambassador to keep the peace, though all the brothers knew he would like nothing more than to spill King Attor’s blood for his insults to the royal Draig family.

Yusef sat in silence through most of the day, as did Ualan. Nothing was accomplished during the seven hours of talks. But, then again, nothing had been accomplished in the centuries of fighting that had occurred between the two kingdoms.

After the meeting, it took another four and a half hours to make certain King Attor and his men did not linger in the palace. A thorough search of the castle revealed nothing and the high alert was taken off the village, so that the villagers could again leave their homes.

Yusef’s back pained him, but he did not let the discomfort show. The night of passion was beginning to catch up with him, and by the time he went home, he was too exhausted to walk straight. Olena was asleep on the couch, her hair spilling over the side in beautiful contrast to the white. He left her there, her parted lips in his memory as he went to bed alone.

Chapter 34

Olena smiled at the gathered warriors, watching them interact with each other. They shouted and punched and called manhoods into question. The sight made her miss her crew, the comradery of those she could trust.

She looked at her companions—the three other princesses. They all wore the same dark breeches and tunic shirts. It had been Pia’s idea that they gather outside near the soldiers’ training field to throw knives at a post. The woman had received knives from her husband and, eager to try them out, invited the princesses to join her for a little sport. Never one to turn down tips for self-protection, Olena had agreed.

Besides, a day out of the house was the perfect remedy from the melancholy of being trapped inside during King Attor’s visit. Yusef was agreeable to the exercise and escorted her to the field so he could watch. Olek and Zoran were there to give their support. Prince Ualan was still in bed, according to Morrigan, who merely blushed at the confession.

Olena was the first to throw. She wasn’t a novice when it came to the blade. Although her targeting wasn’t dead center, she could strike close enough to subdue or even kill.

She did fairly well, as each knife made it into the post, near the center mark. The gathered soldiers clapped and stomped. She glanced at Yusef, trying to act like she didn’t seek his approval. A white bandage slashed across his arm but he looked so much better. He smiled widely, very handsome in his approval, and nodded his head. Olena refused to react, but she knew what that look in his eyes meant.

Nadja was hopeless, missing the target completely on all five tries. She glanced at Olek in embarrassment. The men applauded anyway. Morrigan managed to hit the post on her turn, though they weren’t centered. She curtsied as she received her cheers.

“Maybe you ladies should let a man show you how it’s done,” called a voice from the crowd.

Morrigan rolled her eyes at the others, retrieving the silver blades for Pia’s turn.

“Ach,” Agro cried. “You’re hardly a man, Hume!”

Pia flashed a grin at Hume, who immediately crushed his hand over his heart. Olena watched the antics with a stifled chuckle. She saw Zoran’s face cloud ever so slightly in jealousy. She was glad Pia Korbin wasn’t Doc Aleksander’s daughter. She would hate to see that possessive warrior on her trail.

Pia took up her new set of knives, weighing them carefully in her hand as she tested them. Getting to the third one, she lifted it and studied the blade. Frowning, she went to her husband and handed it to him. Zoran uncrossed his arms and took it from her hand before she grabbed a replacement blade from his waist.

At his curious glance over the replacement, she announced loudly for all the men to hear, “You need to check the balance on that one. It will pull a fraction to the right.”

With hardly moving a muscle, Zoran threw the blade over her shoulder. It stuck just to the right of the target. The men laughed heartily in approval.

Olena was too busy pretending to listen as she watched Yusef from the corner of her lash-veiled eyes. He was laughing light-heartedly at his brother. His look of pleasure twinged her heart. Her mouth went dry, and she was glad no one talked to her because she wouldn’t have been able to speak.

Pia announced, “Told you.”

Olena blinked rapidly, forcing her attention back to the sport at hand.

Going before the target, Pia took a deep breath. She tossed the first of the blades at the post. Not waiting to see it land, she rapidly dropped to the ground to throw two more in a roll. Then, coming to kneel, she threw the last two. The fourth blade struck against Zoran’s to knock it free, before sticking in its place. On the fifth, she turned her arm and it missed the post completely. The warriors watched in stunned silence, their gazes following the path of her last throw. It was a foot before Hume, sticking hilt up and tipped toward the man.

“You missed,” Hume said, to break the silence. The men went wild cheering. Pia took a graceful bow. The princesses jumped in excitement, basking in Pia’s victory.

Morrigan gasped and Olena followed her eyes towards Prince Ualan who was storming onto the field. “Careful,” Olena teased Morrigan, moving close to the woman. “Or else we might think you actually like the barbarian.”

Morrigan blushed, turning her eyes away. Pia handed Olena the blades for her next turn.

Olena glanced at Yusef and he nodded his head in acknowledgement. Pia, seeing the look, quietly said, “It would seem Rigan isn’t the only one enamored by her warrior husband.”

“We’ve got a bet going. All I have to do is hit this post with these five blades and I win.” Olena let a mischievous smile light her eyes. It had been her roguish husband’s idea. He seemed to think that, since she was so confident that she’d hit near her mark, she should put her blades where her mouth was, so to speak. His terms were simple. If she won, she got to request one thing from him. If he won, he got to do the same from her—no complaining.

“Come,” they heard Prince Ualan say.

Pia and Olena turned around to watch Ualan leading Morrigan off to the forest. They shared a look.

“Zoran tried to lead me around like that.” Pia shook her head in disapproval. “I kicked and screamed and I nearly got away, too. I did get a few good punches in.”

Olena laughed, “I hid in the forest for a night, but broke my arm. Yusef had to come rescue me.”

“We’re waiting!” came a cry from the crowd.

Pia turned to glare good-humoredly at Hume. Wryly, she called, “Don’t make me aim higher, Sir Hume.”

Pia meant his chest, but the rowdy warriors were only too ready to guess something much lewder.

Pia looked in confusion at the snickering men. Olena laughed, understanding the joke all too well. As a slightly worried Pia went to consult her husband, Olena threw her blades. The first four landed fairly well. But, then, in an unexplainable effort to gloat, she looked at Yusef. He winked his dark eyes at her and blew her a kiss. She faltered mid-throw. The knife hit, but went too far to the side and instantly fell back out with the weight of the hilt.

Yusef grinned. Olena inhaled sharply to the sound of cheering. She forced herself to retrieve the blades for Pia.

“We need a blindfold,” Zoran said to the men. The call was answered as one was passed forward. He tied it around Pia’s head. Then, smacking her hard on her backside, he directed her to begin her turn.

During the commotion, Olena sidled near Yusef.

“I believe I won,” he gloated.

Olena blushed. “I hit the mark. You said nothing about the blade sticking.”

“Make your throw!” Zoran yelled. Pia lifted her arm and threw.

Hearing the blade land on wood, Olena glanced at the post before turning back to Yusef.

“Do you try to renege?” Yusef’s brows rose in mock surprise. “Where is your honor?”

Pia threw the second and third time. Each blade landed in the post. Suddenly, a loud cheering came up over the crowd. Zoran grinned as he motioned the men to make noise.

Yusef and Olena ignored it, concentrating only on each other, while pretending not to.

“I have never backed out of a bet. A deal’s a deal. I will honor it,” Olena said. Only too late did she realize he’d meant his words as a joke, but she’d taken the bait.

“Oooo,” shouted the men in unison.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Yusef murmured with a meaningful growl, “for I’ll enjoy collecting my prize.”

“Zoran!” came a panicked shout. “Olek! Yusef!”

Olena was lost in Yusef’s arduous eyes to register the shout right away. Yusef’s eyes turned from her and she frowned as she followed his gaze to where Morrigan and Ualan had disappeared into the forest.

“Was that your brother?” she asked, confused. “Is he in trouble?”

Zoran motioned to Agro to keep the men at the field. He ran toward Prince Ualan’s voice, drawing the sword from his waist. Yusef touched her arm briefly before he broke away to run after Zoran. He nodded to one of the men, who tossed a blade. He caught it with his good hand and then his body blurred at his great speed. Olek was right behind them.

Pia tore the blindfold from her head and ran. Olena was spurred into action. The warriors murmured, but followed Agro’s command not to give chase. Olena glanced at Nadja and they were soon both chasing the others.

Twelve light blond Var warriors pursued Prince Ualan from the trees, over the forest path. Fur grew over their bodies as they shifted into the vicious, snarling features of wild cats. Had she not seen them for herself, she might have suspected Doc Aleksander had something to do with the attack. She glanced over the trees, searching for him, but saw no one.

Ualan dragged and unconscious Morrigan with one hand. A dart stuck out of her throat. The prince had shifted to his dragon form and used his natural armor to deflect the enemy’s blows as he fought them off with his free arm to protect Morrigan. Soon his brothers were by his side, shifting into Draig as they fought against the Var. The one-armed Yusef bravely hacked forward with his sword, giving Ualan time to get Morrigan to safety.

Ualan dropped an unconscious Morrigan on the ground. Olena pried her eyes away from her battling husband to Morrigan. Ualan turned back to join the fight against the attackers. Pia didn’t hesitate as she ran to join the men, throwing her blade into a cat’s throat. As Zoran swung his arm, she ducked beneath him to grab the knife from his belt.

Olena heard Nadja’s feet grind to a halt. She looked up to the woman. Olena was used to fighting and death, and had been afforded more than enough views of both shifting species, not to be alarmed. But, as she saw Nadja pale in horror, she knew the woman had no clue what she had married.

“Nadja,” Olena yelled to get the woman’s attention. Seeing Morrigan, she knew her best use was to drag the fallen woman to safety. Besides, she had to get the pasty Nadja away from the battle before she too fell unconscious to the ground. She couldn’t carry them both. “Help me!”

Shaking herself, Nadja darted forward to the fallen princess. She hesitated to see a dart sticking from Morrigan’s throat.

Olena lifted one of Morrigan’s arms. Nadja shivered, as her eyes darted around to look into the trees.

“Help me.” Olena tried to pull Morrigan away from the approaching fray.

Nadja and Olena dragged Morrigan down the path to safety. Olena kept glancing back at Yusef in worry until she could no longer see him. The sound of fighting rang out all around them. When they were far enough away, Nadja stopped. She dropped down to her knees.

“Should we pull it out?” Olena asked. Surely Doc Aleksander’s daughter would know what to do—more so than a pirate.

“No,” Nadja answered. Again she looked at the trees. “Don’t touch it.”

Olena wondered how someone with such a devious father could be so squeamish during a fight. Maybe, after seeing her reaction to Olek’s dragon form, she would really be doing the refined woman a favor in giving her over to her father, so the man could take her off this planet. Anyone as doted on as Nadja apparently must have been, was more than likely protected as a child.

Nadja narrowed her eyes and examined the wound.

The sounds of fighting lessened. Olena heard someone say, “They retreat.”

The brothers and Pia returned down the path. Olena let loose a long sigh to see Yusef unharmed.

Olek froze when he detected Nadja’s pale features. The dart was still embedded in Morrigan’s neck and the woman wasn’t moving.

Nadja jerked when Ualan came close, still dragon-shifted. He immediately changed back to a man. She suspiciously eyed Olek’s human features. Nadja turned back to her patient. Olena noticed it too, and it strengthened her resolve to take Nadja to her father. She almost convinced herself that Nadja would be grateful for what Olena was going to do.

Ualan reached for his wife.

“Don’t.” Nadja’s tone was raw with fear. Ualan drew back in surprise, but Nadja only nodded at his arm where red blisters were forming on his skin. “She is poison to you.”

Ualan tensed, but he held back. Hearing her calm, eerie tone, Olena had no doubt Nadja was the seed of Aleksander. Olena had seen that exact expression before in the Doc.

“You can’t move her yet.” Nadja obviously tried to remain calm.

“But, the poison…” Ualan began, desperate to help his wife.

“Quiet,” Nadja ordered.

Zoran and Pia hung back, quiet. Nadja refused to look any of them in the eye. Her hands shook. Olena saw the pulse jumping beneath Nadja’s skin.

“Let me think. I need to concentrate.” Nadja made a small noise and then decided, “Give me your knife.”

Nadja held her hand out to Pia. The woman instantly handed a blade over. Taking a deep breath, Nadja cut into Morrigan’s throat where the dart was embedded in the skin. Instantly, green liquid began to drip and ooze from the wound, mixed with blood. Soon, Nadja had dug out the star tipped points of the dart.

Nadja dropped the blade and continued to bleed the poison out. When she had finished, she quietly told Ualan, “Try touching her.”

Ualan did. He was left unharmed.

“It’s as I thought,” Nadja breathed. The knowledge didn’t appear to bring her pleasure as she again looked frantically to the trees. I’ve seen this kind of poison before. Usually jealous old lovers do it for revenge. If you had torn the dart out of the skin, it would have released a poison into the blood stream. She would have lived, but you would never have been able to touch her again. It’s ironic really. That way, it is the current lover who poisons the woman, sealing their fate.”

Olena followed Nadja’s lead and examined the trees. She wondered if she considered running or if she was scared the Var warriors remained hidden within them. Or did she detect her father nearby? Shaking her head, Olena knew there was no way Nadja felt her father’s presence. She most likely considered running. Olena almost wished she would run away on her own. It would save her the trouble of a delivery.

“You should get her to a doctor,” Nadja said, her tone lowering to a mere whisper. She stood, warily trying to edge away from the dragon-shifters to go down the path where they’d come from. Olena watched her carefully, unsure if she should do something to help her.

“I would say that whoever poisoned her didn’t want you to be with her,” Nadja told Ualan. Suddenly, she turned and ran from them, desperate to get away. Olek was right behind her.

Olena stood, watching the woman until she was gone. “She didn’t know about the Draig.”

Ualan picked up Morrigan. Yusef fell into step beside Olena. Pia and Zoran were right behind them. As they followed Ualan, he carried Morrigan to the medical ward. No one said another word.

Chapter 35

“Why do they attack the princesses?” Yusef frowned. Olena stood by his side, her expression carefully blank. Nadja and Olek hadn’t joined them, but Zoran and Pia stood next to Ualan and Morrigan. The doctors checked Morrigan and gave her something to help with her recovery.

“Because without us you will have no sons. Your line will end,” Pia said. Zoran stiffened at her soft words.

Olena’s eyes drifted to Yusef. He looked tenderly at her with a strange light in his eyes. She quickly turned away. There was no reason to think about having children. She wouldn’t be around long enough for such concerns.

Even so, the idea terrified her. Not because she was scared of pregnancy, but because the images of cages tried to filter through her mind. She couldn’t bring a life into the universes after what she’d seen, what she’d been through.

Yusef’s hand touched her back, jolting her out of her thoughts.

Pia was still speaking, “I’ve seen you all fight. Especially with all four of you banded together, you would be a formidable opponent. You expect the attack. We are new here and it would be assumed that we had no clear idea of the dangers. Plus, we are women. Men—ah, no offense to anyone here—men, especially those from warrior classes, often misjudge women as unworthy opponents.”

The princes listened closely, but gave away none of their thoughts.

Pia looked up at her husband, her face taut with concentration. “If you were to destroy an enemy, Zoran, would you attack their weakness or their strength?”

“Only a fool would choose to fight a strength if a weakness was to be had.” Ualan nodded at the woman’s insight.

“Only they have obviously underestimated the strength of our women,” Zoran added.

“What better way to end this age-old feud than to wipe out the leaders before they are born?” Yusef frowned, drawing Olena under the protection of his good arm. She found herself melting eagerly into his warmth. He moved his hand up to cup her elbow. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him. She wanted nothing more than to club him over the head, drag him back their palace wing, and hold him there as her love slave. Forget wars and cat-shifters, pirates and cages, doctors and mafias. They could lock themselves away and never come out.

Desire curled inside her at the idea. But there was more than lust churning inside her. An almost desperate need to make that fantasy a reality filled her. What if they ran away? Just climbed into a spaceship and flew to where no one would find them?

“For, if we were to die,” Ualan said, “there would be an heir that could sometime rise against them. If they ensure that our line is ended, when we die there will be no one to avenge us. With no king or protection, our people will be left without defense. Everything will be in chaos.”

She looked around the room. Now was definitely not the time for fantasy.

“It is imperative we discover who is spying for the Var,” Yusef said.

“Spy?” Pia blinked in surprise. She turned to frown at Zoran. “You said nothing of a spy.”

Zoran sighed.

“Olena,” Pia turned to her. “You remember that servant at the festival, don’t you? The one who spilled his drink? It has to be him. He was no more fitted to be a servant than I am.”

Olena shook her head, barely recalling anything but her husband from that night. Thinking of him wrapped in nothing but fur, she shivered anew. Yusef’s arm tightened on her waist and she shook out of her trance. He let a roguish smile play his mouth, as if to tell her he knew her wicked thoughts. Olena’s eyes darted away from him, embarrassed.

“What are you talking about?” Zoran demanded, taking Pia by her arms.

“There are too many servants in the kingdom,” Ualan contemplated. “For festivals many come to help. It would take forever to locate them all, just to find this one.”

“No,” Pia said. “He was at the coronation. The spy would be here in the palace kitchens. I remember watching him fumble with some plates. He only carried two, unlike the other servants who carried four or more. It has to be him. He was graceless when it came to serving. Yet there was something different to his walk and his hand had a sword callous along the ridge. I would almost bet my life he was your man.”

Morrigan lifted her hand for attention and said, her hoarse voice, “I recorded that night on my camera.”

Everyone turned to look at her.

Sheepishly, she admitted, “I’m an undercover reporter for an intergalactic newspaper chip.”

Ualan stiffened but did not stop her from speaking.

“I was supposed to write a story about the royal weddings,” Morrigan said softly, turning to her husband. “My camera will have recorded part of that night. Maybe Pia’s servant can be found on the relay.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Yusef’s tone indicated that, whatever Ualan was thinking at his wife’s confession, it was best he saved it for another time.

“I’ll go find it.” Ualan left the hospital room. It was silent until he got back. When he did, he handed a small eyepiece and an emerald to Morrigan.

“Can you make it work so we can all see?” Yusef asked.

Morrigan nodded. “I think so.”

She requested some saline and wetted the lens before placing it in her eye. Slipping the emerald on her finger so it could react with her nervous system, Morrigan turned the stone. A light shone from her eyes, darkening as the woman blinked. The others watched in amazement as they saw a picture of the Breeding Festival floating on the air. Olena had seen such cameras for sale on the black market.

They came to stand across from Morrigan to better see the round projection.

“Can you see it?” Morrigan asked.

“Yes,” Ualan said.

“All right, just let me leaf through these.” Morrigan closed her eye and the picture disappeared. The woman turned bright red and Olena wondered about it.

“Morrigan,” Ualan stated.

Morrigan blinked at the sound and a flash of Ualan’s naked backside came up bigger than life before his brothers.

“Oh,” Morrigan panicked. Zoran and Yusef laughed heartily. Olena chuckled next to him. No more mystery there about what had the woman blushing. Morrigan squeezed her eyes tight.

Wryly, Ualan said, “I had no idea I looked that good from behind.”

He was rewarded with punches from his laughing brothers.

“Here,” Morrigan said, breaking into the jesting. A screen of the festival came up. “I can’t play sound, but you should see the picture moving like a silent movie.”

They watched in silence. Then suddenly, Pia pointed into the projected image. “There, stop, that’s him.”

Morrigan froze the picture.

“Yeah.” Olena leaned forward to get a closer look at the corner of the frame. “I remember him. Now that you mention it, he was rather strange.”

“He has the coloring of a Var,” Yusef said.

“But not the scent of one,” Zoran said. “Do you think he has found a way to mask his smell?”

“He wears the tunic of the kitchen staff,” Yusef said. “We will find him and question him. If he is Draig, it will be easy for him to prove it. If he is Var, he will come up with an excuse not to shift.”

Ualan nodded. Yusef and Zoran motioned that their wives should come with them as they left.

Once the couples were alone, Pia asked Olena, “Did you know Rigan is writing a story about us?”

Olena shook her head. “She said she was, not is.”

Zoran and Yusef exchanged looks. Olena knew they wouldn’t much care for their private lives to be made known to the entire galaxy. The Qurilixian, by tradition, were a race that kept to themselves. Olena understood the sentiment.

“Ualan will speak to her and take care of it,” Yusef said.

Yusef made sure his wife was escorted back to their home before following Zoran to the kitchen. With a few gruff words Zoran was able to ascertain Pia’s blond servant-spy was hiding behind one of the large brick ovens, ducking from his work. The servants were only too happy to clear out of their way so they could apprehend him.

Zoran walked around the oven. The cat-shifter charged the kitchen door. Yusef choked on the overbearing scent of Draig pheromone. He automatically lifted his good arm to stop the man’s escape. He punched the man in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. Oh, but it felt good.

The servants cheered, clearly not understanding what was happening.

Zoran clapped his hands, laughing. “I am almost sorry he didn’t give you more of a fight.”

“He will pay for what he did to me,” Yusef said. “When Agro has finished with him in the dungeons, he will wish I’d stabbed him and left him for dead.”

Chapter 36

Olena let the servant escort her home while Yusef tended to the matter of the spy with his brother. After seeing Morrigan laid up in the hospital, knowing that Nadja had saved her life, she couldn’t force herself to turn the woman over to Doc Aleksander. No matter the cost, for once in her life, Captain Olena was going to make the right decision. She was going to do the right thing.

Thinking of Yusef, she knew she had made the right decision. He had shown her the true meaning of honor. It wasn’t a simple, silly little code that you followed. It wasn’t a set of rules, self-punishments, and self-denials. He’d shown her that there could be a purpose in life higher than gold and fortunes, more rewarding than sailing the high skies. He’d shown her that belonging to one man, and a family, was so much sweeter than having all the freedom in the world.

The fantasy of sailing away with him wasn’t probable. But what if she stayed? The answer seemed so simple. Stay. Choose a new life. Take the biggest risk she’d ever known. Stay.

Her crew would understand. Now, to make Doc Aleksander understand.

Her decision made, Olena pulled back her hair into a serviceable bun. Then, stealing into Yusef’s closet, she grabbed the valuable gold bracelet and slid it over her thigh, hiding it beneath her black pants. It pulled tight against her skin as she walked. Once she had to stop to pull it up higher so it wouldn’t fall and give her away.

Then, strolling out the palace’s front gate, she was happy to discover the guard did not stop her. Affecting an air of nonchalance, she strode into the evening light settling on the forest, and didn’t look back.

Yusef came home to find his wife gone. He frowned, wondering where she could have gone off to. Taking the sling from his arm, he stretched the tight muscles. The limb felt much recovered, so he threw the sling aside and left it unbound.

The capture of the spy was a big relief for the royal family. He wanted to share the news with his wife. Olek had come in time to escort the man down to the lower dungeons, and even now the Var was being questioned by Agro. Yusef had no doubt Agro would discover the entire plot.

Taking a slow bath, he waited for Olena to come home. By the time he finished it was getting late. Was she with Pia? The servant had been with both women when he last saw them. Perhaps she was checking on Morrigan or visiting with Nadja. Nadja had been upset and no doubt needed to have some kind of girl talk. Yusef chuckled at the thought. Olena didn’t seem the kind for girl talk.

With a sigh, he dressed. He’d give her a little more time before going out to search for her.

Olena didn’t have to walk the path long before hearing a noise within the trees. Freezing, she cursed herself for a fool. How could she know Doc Aleksander would be the first to find her? There could still be Var hiding within the forest, still eager to kill a princess.

“Captain.”

Olena sighed, forcing her heart to slow at the sound of the Doc’s voice. At least the right enemy had found her. That was something at least.

“I hope you have good news for me.” This time Doc Aleksander held no cigar as he stepped from the shadows of the forest. The hairs on her neck stood on end at his hard look. He definitely wasn’t going to be happy with her.

“I can’t get you what you want,” she said, direct and to the point. Direct was better. Men like Aleksander could respect direct—somewhat.

“Really?” His eyes narrowed, contrasting the small smile that curled on his lips. A little too mocking, he said, “I thought you could steal anything.”

“She’s too well guarded. She doesn’t trust me,” Olena said. “I’ve tried to get her outside the palace alone with me, but she won’t come.”

“Try harder.” Doc gritted his teeth.

“I have.” Olena looked him square in the face. “They have all the princesses under tight guard because of the Var attacks.”

“Princess?” Aleksander mused. “My daughter married a prince that keeps her prisoner?”

Olena shivered. Oops. It would seem he didn’t know that bit of information. Or did he? Was he toying with her?

“I am truly sorry I couldn’t bring you what you asked for,” Olena said as bravely as she could manage. Leaning over, she worked the bracelet from her leg. The Doc tensed, watching her closely, ready to defend himself. When she pushed the bracelet from her thigh and out of her pant leg, she offered it to him. “As per the Pirate Code, what I couldn’t obtain for you, I have replaced with something valuable.”

To her hesitant relief, Aleksander smiled. He snapped his fingers and motioned to her. Olena tensed as a henchmen clone came from the trees. He took the bracelet from her and handed it over to Doc. The man studied it very carefully before nodding his head.

“Nice,” he murmured in approval. “A very fitting replacement of the Pirate Code, captain.”

Olena nodded. “Again, I am sorry, Doc. I wish you well in your endeavor and give you my word as captain of the high skies that I’ll not impede your goal.”

“That is very commendable.” He passed the bracelet to the henchman at his side. Olena swallowed, preferring to see the man get angry. His silent calm terrified her.

“Well, I should get back in before they start looking for me.” Olena turned her back on him and walked away. Not making it more than two steps before his words stopped her.

“Oh, captain?” Doc called, his words ringing with the oddest mix of sweetness and ease.

Olena stiffened. Fear came over her in agonizing waves and she couldn’t help but shiver at the coolness of his placid tone. Forcing a muted smile, she turned to look at him.

“I only see one problem, my dear Olena, with your pirate’s offering,” Doc said, his pleasure showing with a damnable smile. He picked a cigar out of his pocket, clipped the end, and lit it. Taking a deep puff, he pointed the tip at her. “You see, I’m not exactly a pirate and I don’t recognize your terms.”

Olena tried to run but the path filled with the Doc’s goons. Hands clasped her. When she would have kicked her captors to free herself, she felt a hard jab of a needle in her arm. Her vision blurred and she swayed. Right before the black pit of unconsciousness hit her, her eyes focused for the last time on Doc. He saluted her, and a grin spread over his features as he waved goodbye.

Yusef sighed, slipping into his clothes. Olena still hadn’t come home and he was tired of waiting around for her. Just because the spy had been caught did not mean she was safe to roam. There could be others lurking in the palace.

Slipping on his boots, he heard a pounding at the door. He frowned, standing. Yusef strode into the front hall, calling for the door to open.

“Where is your wife?” Olek demanded, storming inside. He looked around.

“She’s gone.” Yusef scowled at the rude intrusion.

“Then would you mind explaining the meaning of her letter to me?” Olek asked. He handed over a piece of paper.

Yusef glanced down, reading, Your wife’s father is coming for her. Ask her what that means. I go to put him off. You must keep her safe. He is an evil man.

“I don’t understand,” Yusef stated, confused.

“It was delivered by a servant from your wife,” Olek said, his face tightly drawn.

“Where is she?” Yusef demanded, starting to panic. He ran out the front door to find her.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Olek was right behind him. “My wife is missing too.”

Chapter 37

Olena blinked, fighting to regain consciousness. Her head filled with wild images—images of the past, of nightmares, of death and blood, of her crew, of random men she had seduced and stabbed with her firefly pin, of the crash, of Yusef. They jumbled in her head, confusing her, making her feel like a helpless child, making her feel like a woman, making her feel like a prisoner.

No, that would be the ties on her hands that made her feel like a prisoner.

Olena flinched, blinking rapidly in the dim blue light. She moaned, but a gag stopped the sound from leaving her lips. Her mouth worked, trying to be free of it. It was clamped too tightly, hurting her jaw with its tight pull.

Taking quick stock of her surroundings, she saw that she was in a tent. The bold curve of the Medical Alliance Missionary symbol was on the outside wall, glowing dark in the blue artificial illumination of a camp light. She didn’t know where she was, but she guessed she was still on Qurilixen. Doc wouldn’t leave until he had Nadja. Plus, she highly doubted Doc planned on taking her along as excess baggage.

By the feel of the gurney beneath her back and the restraints on her hands, she wasn’t going to get much farther than this.

“Father, no!”

Olena froze. That was Nadja screaming. She twisted her head around, trying to get her bearings. The tent flap was behind her head. She saw it flutter in the breeze, showing a little crack of what was happening outside. Nadja was strapped down to a chair, her eyes pleading with her father for mercy. Olena struggled to get free. The unbreakable steel bonds were too tight.

“There, there Nadja,” she heard Doc answer. “If you’re telling me the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

Olena couldn’t see what was happening. She tried to force her hand to slide through the wrist clamp. The raw sting of tearing flesh hurt, but she pulled harder. Blood wet her hands. She couldn’t get free. Nadja’s whimpering surrounded her. Olena stopped fighting her binds. If this man was willing to torture his own daughter, then he wouldn’t think twice about hurting a pirate.

“Go make sure she wasn’t followed,” Doc ordered. Olena again tried to see out, but the flap wouldn’t move. The breeze had died down. She shook violently. Her mind yelling to Yusef to come for her, to save her just one more time.

“Olena.” Yusef stopped, his head tilting to the side. He glanced around the red passageway of the palace. Panic overwhelmed him with a sense of urgency. Turning to Olek, he said, “Quick. Our wives are in trouble.”

“Who have you whored for?” Doc Aleksander yelled at his daughter. She strained to hear more but couldn’t for a long while. “Give me his name.”

Olena heard footsteps coming around to the tent flap. Quickly, she whipped her hair over her face and held completely still. The hair would allow her to peek without being detected. A presence entered the room. She saw a large, looming shadow pass her vision, moving behind her.

“Last chance,” Aleksander warned. “I’ll have a name.”

Olena realized he was still outside the tent. She forced herself to stay motionless as Nadja whimpered in continued agony. She couldn’t hear everything that was said, but she didn’t need to.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have all night,” Aleksander said. His henchman didn’t move from Olena’s tent. You see, daughter, I have made some friends of my own on this accursed planet. It seems your precious Draig aren’t liked by my friends. And if I help them, they’ll help me. So tell me, which prince is yours?”

There was no answer.

Olena stiffened. The henchman was at her feet. The gurney was slowly rolled forward toward the flap. She wanted to scream, but knew she had to be calm. Fear only defeated, and she needed a plan.

“You are such a disappointment.” Aleksander said in disgust to his daughter. “Well, if hurting you won’t get us anywhere, what if I hurt one of your little friends?”

Oh no. It was time to panic.

To Olena’s horror, the Doc yelled, “Bring out the pirate!”

Olena closed her eyes and didn’t move. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest. Everything she had, called to Yusef, begging him to save her, to come for her. Her face was angled in the wrong direction and she couldn’t see anything but the passing of trees and tents.

“She had nothing to do with this,” Nadja said.

“Olena,” she heard the Doc say gently. He hovered close, as his fingers moved to tap lightly at her face. “Time to wake up.”

Olena blinked, automatically stiffening against her bonds at the feel of his hand on her. She thrashed back and forth to throw his fingers off her.

“What shall I do to her, Nadja?” Doc didn’t take his eyes away from his newest victim. There was a perverse pleasure on his face as he looked down at her, more perverse than his carnal attraction had been. He took a laser scalpel to Olena’s face. Olena stopped moving, her wide eyes following as it moved down. “Carve out her eyes? Her nose? Take off her lips?”

The inert tip of the laser skimmed the bow of her upper lip, grazing lightly. Olena didn’t dare move, braced for the worst.

“Don’t.” Nadja sounded weak.

Don’t! Olena’s mind screamed in unison.

“Then tell me what I want to know. Who is the father of that bastard you carry?” he bellowed, storming away from Olena to scream at his daughter. Olena relaxed slightly as the blade was drawn away. Her nose flared with each heavy breath as she tried to gain control of her fear. She had to get out. She pulled desperately to be free. She had to get Nadja out. If she’d just told Yusef what was going on, they wouldn’t be here now. “That bastard inside you will be dissolved.”

Olena stopped to watch from the corner of her eye. To her surprise, the manacles were freed from Nadja’s wrists and she was allowed to move. She couldn’t see all that was happening, but Nadja was pulled to her feet.

“The time for being a child is over, Nadja,” Doc whispered. “It’s time for you to take your place amongst your peers.”

Olena felt tears coming to her eyes. She mumbled against the gag. Her mind and body called out for Yusef. She needed him. She couldn’t get out of this on her own. Not this time.

“Do you love me, Nadja?” Olena heard Doc ask. She didn’t hear Nadja’s answer, but his next words left her cold. “Then dissect her.”

“What…?” Nadja breathed hard, her gaze wild as she looked at Olena strapped to the table.

Olena saw the large laser scalpel in Nadja’s hand. Doc pointed in her direction. She fearfully looked at Olena and then back at her father. She had been pushed to the edge. Blood trailed down one of the woman’s arms from a narrow cut. Nadja didn’t pay attention to the wound.

“She is a common thief, a pirate.” Doc gave his daughter a shove toward Olena. “She broke her word to me.”

“No.” Nadja gasped. The scalpel fell from her fingers to the ground. Olena took a deep, gasping breath of relief. Nadja turned to run. Her father caught her easily.

“Cut out her eyes,” he ordered his daughter with a cruel twist of his lips. “Or I’ll burn your lying ones from your head.”

To prove his point he motioned for a hot poker to be brought from the fire. The angry red metal smoked and curled with heat. Olena screamed against her gag for him to stop. She jerked her feet.

“Hold her down.” Doc motioned toward Nadja. Olena tried to get free, but her wrists only bled more.

“No!” Nadja screamed.

Hands were instantly on Nadja, gripping her shoulders and arms, lifting her legs into the air when she would kick. Her father took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The hot poker waved dangerously at the action.

“It’s time you learn, Nadja,” he told her. “You don’t lie to your father.”

Nadja kicked, trying to get free. The poker loomed closer to her face.

“Will you do as you’re told?” His voice mocked his daughter with its calmness.

To Olena’s horror, Nadja nodded.

“Let her go.” Doc handed the poker back to one of the men who threw it into the flames. Then, reaching to the ground, he retrieved the scalpel. Nadja took it at his insistence, her fingers shaking horribly as she pressed the button. A laser shot out, nearly six inches long and sharper than the most deadly of blades.

Olena moaned, shaking her head as her eyes pleaded Nadja to stop.

“Take the eyes,” Doc ordered.

Nadja sniffed, the calmness returning to her as Doc led her forward to Olena. Her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted her hand to Olena’s cheek.

Olena pleaded with her eyes, begging Nadja to stop. Nadja’s fingers slipped in Olena’s tears, her own falling to splash in droplets on Olena’s shoulder.

Oh, damn Jack and his theory on fear. She was terrified! She had no plan of action, no way out. Yusef was her only idea.

Yusef, her mind cried out. Yusef, please!

“I’m sorry.” Nadja lifted the scalpel close to Olena’s temple. Olena closed her eyes, trying to turn her head away, knowing that her eyelids were no match for the scalpel. Nadja’s fingers pressed deeper into her skin to hold her still. The laser dipped close to Olena’s cheek. She heard it humming softly, felt its heat ready to sear her flesh. Olena peeked at Nadja, trying to plead with her. The woman didn’t see her, was looking through her. Then, Nadja turned to her father and said, “I love you.”

Doc Aleksander smiled. To Olena’s utter disbelief, Nadja turned, thrusting the blade into her father’s heart. The man blinked in surprise. Nadja stood completely frozen, unable to move as a fine mist of blood sprayed from Doc’s chest over the two women. Doc fell to his knees.

Chaos erupted all around the campsite. Yusef and Olek burst from the trees, subduing Doc’s men with slashes to their throats and rips through their guts. Olena’s heart leapt in her chest. He had come for her,

Nadja didn’t move throughout the whole fight. Olena moaned at her, trying to get her attention. Nadja didn’t hear her. She stared down at her father.

Soon Yusef was above his wife, his body shifted to dragon form. Olena would recognize him anywhere. His hands were on her wrist, pulling at the steel with all his strength. He opened it enough to let her slip free before doing the second one.

Olena gasped, tears streaming down her shaken face. Her bloodied hands reached up and Yusef pulled her into his chest.

“You came,” She desperately clung to him, feeling him shifting to human form beneath her fingers. She didn’t dare open her eyes. This was one dream she didn’t want to end. “You came.”

Yusef ran his fingers over her body, as if to make sure she was unharmed. Aside from her raw and bloodied wrists, she was fine. Olek went to Nadja who kneeled on the ground by her father. The danger was gone. Olek motioned Yusef to go. Yusef nodded in ready agreement.

Yusef lifted her into his arms and sprinted to the safety of the palace. Olena clung to him. His voice rang out as he called up commands to the guards, ordering them to help Olek.

Olena shivered, unsure if it was gratitude or residual fear. He didn’t stop running until he reached the medical ward. The doctors came at his call while he set her on a bed.

Olena blinked. Looking at Tal, she said, “They injected me with something.”

Tal looked questioningly at Yusef, but did not ask her to clarify.

“Her wrists,” Yusef added.

“Put her in the medical unit,” Tal said. “We’ll do a complete set of tests to make sure she is unharmed.”

Yusef picked up his wife, refusing to let her walk as he carried her to the back room. He set her down, standing her between two large metal plates.

Then, pressing a button on the unit’s control panel, Tal said, “We have to go in the other room. The unit will X-ray her and test her to make sure she wasn’t poisoned.”

Yusef ran his fingers to tenderly brush back Olena’s hair, and all she could think to whisper was, “You came.”

Chapter 38

Olena was in the medical unit for what felt like hours. After it finished scanning her body, Tal came back in the room to start the next sequence of tests. Yusef was there, watching her from the doorway, trying to smile whenever she caught his eye. Then, to her surprise, she saw Nadja standing beside him.

She whispered something to Yusef, who frowned but nodded his head. He motioned to Tal. Tal pushed a button and the two women were left alone.

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said instantly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Olena chuckled lightly. “Don’t apologize. You saved my life.”

“I couldn’t let him kill again. You have nothing to worry about.” Nadja swayed on her feet and Olena could tell she was worn out. “As Doc’s heir, I dissolved the family. They won’t be back.”

Nadja moved over to the machine as it beeped. Absently, she reached to the panel and pushed a button for it to continue. She pulled up a chair, waited as it cycled, and then pressed another button.

“Nadja, I’m sorry. I know he was your father.”

Nadja held up a hand to stop her. “I am one of the few who could have done it without backlash. No, it was time for his terror to end.”

“Still,” Olena began.

Tears came to Nadja’s eyes and she sniffed. Shaking her head, she held her hand for silence. No more words were needed on the subject. “Thank you.”

The unit beeped again and Nadja glanced down to the screen.

“Are you in pain?” Nadja asked at the panel’s prompting.

“No,” Olena said.

Nadja pressed a button.

“How’s your baby?” Olena asked, remembering what Doc had said.

Nadja read the panel and grinned. Laughing lightly, she said, “Hopefully as healthy as yours.”

She was pregnant. Olena wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Nadja had looked at her like she should have been ecstatic. She was numb. Should a pirate even have children? Should an ex-pirate? Surely there was some sort of cosmic law against it—or at least there should have been. Olena would make a terrible mother. She didn’t know the first thing about babies, except to avoid them. And children? The only children she knew were…

She couldn’t even think about the past.

Nadja erased the information about her pregnancy for her, saying that men should find out from their wives, not nosy medics. Olena also had the feeling that Nadja understood her hesitance and was giving her the precious gift of time to mull the news over.

Dawn was fast approaching. Yusef waited up all night by her side. Sometimes, when it was allowed, he sat beside her, not saying a word. Olena kept her eyes closed and her head back, resting against the machine. She pretended she was too tired to talk.

As she finally finished with the extensive checkup, it was determined that she had near perfect health. Tal said she was well enough to leave, warning her to be more careful in the future—though it was clear he knew the warning was lost on Olena.

Yusef nodded his thanks to the man as he lifted his wife into his arms. Olena’s head rested on his shoulder, snuggling into his warmth. By the time Yusef got her home, she was fast asleep.

Yusef woke his wife in the late morning hours by stroking her cheek and smoothing his fingers over her hair. Tenderly, he kissed her temple and said, “I have to go. Agro discovered Pia was right about King Attor’s motives. He seeks to kill Morrigan, Nadja, and Pia.”

Olena furrowed her brow, appearing almost hurt. “What about me?”

Yusef chuckled. “It seems he’s taken a liking to you, firebird. He saw me cart you away at the Breeding Festival and decided he wanted you for himself. That is why you were kidnapped and I was attacked.”

“Well,” she murmured, still sleepy. She yawned and covered her mouth. “Can you really blame him?”

Yusef laughed louder, just happy she was safe. Everything else could be figured out in time. “The spy gave Agro directions to King Attor’s hidden camp. The trackers go there even now to confirm it. If he is there, then I’ll go with my brothers to face him.”

Olena sat up, forcing herself awake. “No, you can’t leave.”

“Do you think I’ll dishonor you in battle?” He frowned. “I am healed enough to make you proud.”

“No,” she dismissed. “I know you will beat him. I just want you to stay here with me today. Can’t you go killing another time?”

“Ah, well.” He leaned to kiss her. “Tempting as you are, wife, I would have this business finished. I don’t know about you, but I would like to get back to the Outpost. This house is too…”

“White?” she offered, with a grimace of distaste.

“Exactly. Now, go back to sleep. I’ll send the queen to check on you later.”

Olena nodded, instantly closing her eyes and burrowing under the blankets. To Yusef’s amazement, she was asleep before he even turned around.

When Olena awoke later in the afternoon, she was still a little groggy. For about an hour, she laid in bed, not moving. Her dreams had been sweet and full of hope for the first time in her life. She barely remembered her conversation with Yusef until she heard the queen calling to her from the front door.

Olena stumbled from the bedroom, still dressed in her clothes from the night before. She caught her reflection briefly. Sleep wrinkles pressed into her cheeks from the blankets and her hair was tousled.

“You didn’t answer the door,” Queen Mede said. “I was worried.”

Olena yawned through a smile, absently scratching her backside where her pirate’s brand had been. The queen chuckled at the disoriented display.

“Aaoow,” Olena yawned loudly, stretching her arms over her head and twisting back and forth in a stretch. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I needed to get up eventually. Where’s Yusef?”

“He asked me to come and check on you and tell you that they are off to battle the Var.”

“Oh,” Olena said, rubbing her eyes. “When will they be back?”

The queen smiled, clearly glad to see the confidence Olena had in her son.

“Agro discovered —” the queen began.

Olena nodded, breaking in, “Yusef said something about it this morning—that is if I wasn’t dreaming it.”

Olena walked over to the couch and sat, leisurely motioning to Queen Mede to join her. “The trackers found the campsite I take it?”

“They did. It’s a small encampment south of here next to the borders. They could be gone for the rest of the night.”

Olena frowned at that. She wanted Yusef home now.

“I have to ask,” the queen said. “Are you happy here with my son?”

The forward question surprised her. Yusef was her only true happiness. There was nothing else for her but him. She had never known true happiness before meeting her dragon warrior.

Seeing the look, Queen Mede had her answer. “Does he know you’re happy?”

“Why?” Olena sat up straighter. Insecure, she asked, “Did he say something?”

“As a mother, I have a bond with him. I know my son. He is troubled and, I do confess, I pressed the issue. He thinks you mean to leave him.”

“He said that?” Olena was stunned. How could he not know how she felt? She was sure it was written all over her face.

“He did. He made me promise not to talk to you, but, ah, I am his mother and he can’t boss me around.”

Olena laughed. “Are all men blind or just mine? I figured everyone saw me as a besotted fool. I’m surprised I haven’t been drooling and trailing after him.”

“You hide yourself better than you think,” Queen Mede said. “When I first met you I couldn’t tell a single thing you might be thinking. I could only hope you meant it when you took his life to yours.”

“You mean because I married him?” Olena asked, questioning the queen’s dire tone of finality. “If it didn’t work out, couldn’t he have just found someone else? It’s not like I would have ruined him.”

“Ah, but you see, you have ruined him for all others.” Queen Mede sighed. “None of my new daughters understand what is happening to them. I will give you the same speech I gave Morrigan earlier. Draig men are given a crystal when they are born. It’s their guiding light. When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in such a way that can never be taken back. You exchanged part of your souls. By crushing the crystal, you assured that the exchange would never be reversed. In a way, you are now his guiding light.”

Olena listened silently.

“He has put his every chance at happiness in you, Olena. He gave his life to you.” The queen’s gaze shifted to gold as if to punctuate her meaning. “There will never be anyone else for him so long as he lives. That is a long time for our people, and for you. By giving you his life, he shortened his and extended yours so your fates could remain together. If you chose to leave him, he would be alone for the rest of his days. That is a long time of loneliness. When he took you to his tent, it was his choice. When you stayed, that was yours. There will be no other in his bed or his heart. There simply can’t be.”

“I am such an idiot,” she whispered. Then louder, she asked, “But if you say he can feel me, then can’t he feel that I was just scared? That I don’t intend to go?”

“Ah, they may hide it well, for our warriors are men of extraordinary, albeit frustrating, pride. But inside, they are still men and men have fears like all others. I think it might be worse for our husbands, because they will never permit themselves to show it.”

“They’re afraid?”

“Deep down at their core they are impossible romantics.” The queen moved to stand and smiled a secret smile. “They fall hopelessly and unreservedly in love at first sight and can never hope to fall out again.”

Chapter 39

Olena fidgeted with nervous tension. Queen Mede’s words flowed through her mind for the rest of the day, distracting her. She went to bed early, only to rise before dawn. She had no idea when Yusef would be back, but she wanted to be ready for him. The queen thought they should expect the men to return by late morning.

Olena bathed and dressed in her most alluring of clothes—which unfortunately were plain cotton pants and a tight black shirt that showed only a hint more cleavage than the rest. She let her hair dry in soft waves over her shoulders.

“Olena?”

Her heart jumped. Finally. Taking a deep breath, she fussed with her locks in the bathroom mirror.

“One second,” she yelled. Then, to stall as she pinched her cheeks, she asked lightly, “How was the battle?”

“King Attor is dead,” came the tired answer. She could hear him moving around in the front hall, putting down his sword and kicking off his boots. “We tried to arrest him but he called his troops to fight. We had no choice. But then, as king, I suppose neither did he.”

“It ended the only way it could.” Olena was glad the matter was finally settled. Well, as settled as such matters could be.

“Attor’s son will take the throne,” Yusef said.

“Uh-huh,” She adjusted her breasts beneath her top to get the maximum effect. She wondered if she should just take it off altogether, but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t do to distract him too much before she said everything she needed to.

“Olek is speaking to the new king now, negotiating a peace. It looks hopeful that our battles have ended.”

“So soon after the king’s death?” Olena frowned.

“It’s politics. It will take delicate negotiating, but peace can be achieved if we handle the situation correctly. Olek needs to extend our condolences before Prince Kirill officially takes the throne. He needs to know we do not wish to continue our aggressions. Some of the older nobles will protest but, in the end, they will bow to the decision of their leaders.”

“Does this mean we can leave the palace?” Olena was ready to go back to the Outpost to give her marriage a real chance.

“What are you doing in there?” His voice had drawn closer.

Olena took a deep breath and rushed out to meet him. Her smile widened at the sight of him. Her gaze roamed over his body. When he moved, he looked completely healed and his arm wasn’t in the sling.

“I,” she began. Oh, but he was handsome. Her eyes found his gray ones flecked with a subtle gold and she forgot everything that she had spent all night rehearsing. “I need…to talk.”

Yusef’s expression darkened but he nodded.

“I’m a pirate,” she admitted.

“I know.” He nodded. There was a sadness to him as he said the words and his body stiffened as if he braced himself.

“I mean…I was a pirate. Jack was my pirate father. He took me under his wing and showed me how to protect myself, how to steal, how to convince people to believe whatever I wanted. It was his idea that I stay a virgin so when I went through security checks—anyway. He taught me how to seduce men to get what I wanted from them.”

Olena bit her lip. Her words weren’t coming out right at all.

“And you miss it,” Yusef stated, thinking to understand.

“Yusef, I,” she hesitated. Her eyes teared. “Jack taught me everything I know. But, he didn’t teach me how to love.”

Yusef closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I…” She felt his pain and all masks dropped from her features. No longer caring that her speech was muddled into a blob of incoherent half-thoughts, she said the most important truth, “I love you. I’m pregnant and I love you. And I’m scared that you don’t feel the same way, because I can’t…tell…what love would look like on you.”

He opened his eyes. She trembled, beginning to cry. A flood of her emotions, so insecure, washed out of her onto him. Let him feel it. All walls were broken, all her defenses crumbled at her feet until she could no longer hide behind her mask of mischief.

Yusef rushed forward, sweeping her up into his arms. Before she could even blink in surprise, he kissed her deeply, letting her body fit into his, letting her feel his arousal, his unyielding, unending heart’s desire for her.

“If you can’t see that I love you, foolish woman,” he said into her mouth, “then feel that I do.”

Olena smiled happily, her whole world colliding into this one perfect moment. A stream of feeling rushed into her from him, warm and secure. She ran her hands over his body, eagerly dipping along his neck to find his naked back beneath his tunic. Lifting her swiftly into his arms, Yusef hugged her to his chest and broke his lips free. Her feet dangled above the ground.

“I believe I’m ready to collect on my bet now,” he said. Slowly, he set her down on the floor. His hands were on her shirt, pulling it up over her head.

“What would you have?” she murmured in full invitation. Yusef pushed her drawstring pants off her hips. Her fingers were on his waist, trying to free his center to her. “You get one demand. I can’t complain.”

“I would have you stay with me always, as my wife.”

“Done.” Then, batting her eyelashes, she said, “Now take me to bed and make a few more demands.”

Yusef grinned. Lifting her up, he pressed her back into the white wall. With a swift stroke, he was inside her willing body. Olena gasped in delight, never wanting him to stop. Yusef buried his face into her hair, and asked, “Who can wait for a bed, firebird?”

Epilogue

Four months later…

Yusef followed his wife at a distance as she made her way toward the east pond. It was late in the evening. Olena pretended not to detect him as she searched the dimmed trees. She could just imagine his Draig eyes darkening to a bright gold to watch over her slightly rounded waist—a testament to his growing child in her womb.

Hearing a low whistle, foreign to Qurilixen, Olena grinned. The demons had finally come for her. Covering her mouth, she trilled softly in return. Soon the path was alive with beastly figures.

“Captain!” one of the men cried.

Olena yelped in excitement and jumped into a pair of hairy arms.

“MoPa!” Pulling back, she said, “Hedge, Lufa, Caz, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Ah, captain,” Lufa’s voice gurgled. He was a giant upright amphibian. “You could’ve picked a closer planet.”

Olena grinned.

“So you ready to go?” Hedge, a prickle-headed being, asked. “We’ve got a transport waiting.”

Olena’s smile drifted. She had missed them so much.

“What happened here?” MoPa glanced down to her stomach where he’d felt a slight bulge.

“The nightmares are gone, MoPa. I’m not going with you,” she whispered. The men’s faces fell and they protested—all but MoPa who nodded, a gleam of happiness in his eyes for her.

“Quiet, now!” MoPa ordered darkly. “You don’t dare question the captain’s orders.”

“You all can stay with me, MoPa,” she offered. “You will be protected here.”

“There now, captain,” Hedge said. “You know we can’t be doing that. The high skies call us. It’s in our blood.”

“I’m not your captain anymore.” Olena reached behind her back and pulled out her gun. Handing it over to MoPa, she said. “But I am your friend. You will always find sanctuary here. MoPa, the crew is yours. Do your worst.”

MoPa smiled, he solemnly nodded his head at her. She saw his look and knew he would be sorry to see her stay behind.

“Give this planet hell,” he stated quietly. Olena nodded. With a flick of MoPa’s hand, the crew disappeared into the trees as if they were never there.

She stood silent, watching where they had disappeared. There was no long last look, no goodbyes. It was the pirate way and she understood it all too well. As soon as they sailed safe skies, they would drink to her in respect.

Startling slightly, Olena felt Yusef’s strong hand on her shoulder. She smiled, turning around into his awaiting arms. Her cheek pressed into his chest to feel his heartbeat, before she pulled back to look at him.

“What was that?” Yusef asked, basking in her loving expression.

“Ah, just the demons coming to visit,” she said. She felt a hard press against her back. Frowning, she reached behind her to pull a carving out from her husband’s fingers. It was a figurine of her, her stomach slightly rounded. Chuckling, she said, “You really need to get a new model for these things.”

“Why, firebird?” he asked, lifting her up into his arms. “When I have no desire to look at anything else?”

Olena laughed softly. And, as she kissed him, she murmured, “You could at least put clothes on me. Our son will think I walked around naked the whole time I was pregnant.”

“Ah,” he murmured against her. Yusef swept his wife away with him to their home and into their bed. “I think such a thing can be arranged.”

The End

Warrior Prince: 10th Anniversary Edition

By Michelle M. Pillow

Warrior Prince (Dragon Lords) © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

Previously Titled: The Warrior Prince (Dragon Lords)

10th Anniversary Edition, Third Electronic Printing July 2014, The Raven books

Second Electronic Printing September 2010, The Raven Books

First Electronic Printing January 2005

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ISBN 978-1-62501-087-2

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

About Warrior Prince

Dragonshifting Romance

The Survivor...

Though no one can command her, this warrior would try to conquer her heart...

Physically scarred in childhood by an act of betrayal, Pia has never been considered an attractive woman to other humans, but in a universe filled with aliens she’s managed to blend in. One horrible mistake and she is on the run. Desperate to hide her identity, she makes a deal with Galaxy Brides—in exchange for a new face, she’ll marry anyone they put in front of her. Never did she realize her future husband would be the most handsome warrior of the Draig.

The Warrior...

Though no man can thwart the brave dragon leader, a woman would be his undoing...

Dragon-shifter Zoran of Draig is a man who knows what he wants. Being a prince and the commander, he is called upon to make swift decisions, be ready to battle at a moment’s notice, and most of all, he always expected to be in control. When his beautiful wife, the one person who should obey him unconditionally, refuses to do so, Zoran discovers the battle for his heart’s desire is fiercer than any he war ever waged before. Can the conqueror become the conquered?

To My Wonderful Readers

To Lesley Parkin: Thank you for all of your hard work editing the Dragon Lords anniversary editions.

Chapter 1

Pia Korbin gasped, sputtering as she jerked back from the blood spraying across her scarred hands and face. The knife slipped from her fingers to land on top of the man bleeding to death beneath her. Gradually, her drunken mind sobered. His pants were around his ankles, the evidence of his intent lowering as the artery next to his groin bled out onto the snowy black ground.

“You...ugly...bitch!” The man growled at her, his throat gurgling in pain, his eyes glaring with hatred. Even as she stood over his fallen body, she smelled the foulness of his breath. He weakly reached his hand to his hemorrhaging thigh, but then let it fall lifelessly to the side. Those words were the last he ever said.

Pia took a deep breath, looking desperately around the industrial dumpster at the end of the alleyway, to make sure no one watched her. Swallowing nervously, she reached down to search the man’s pockets, not bothering to check him for a pulse. She knew he was dead. Pulling out an ID card, she froze. It was worse than she feared. He was the mayor’s son.

Behind her, fire burst from the tops of industrial smokestacks. The city of smog, metal and stone was no place to trifle in. She coughed violently. Even the snow here was as black as death.

Looking down, she knew she’d really done it this time. They wouldn’t care that the man had attacked her, thinking to have a bit of morbid sport. On a planet like Rayvic, the mayor’s son had every right to take whatever he wanted—including an unwilling woman. They ran their city like the medical mafia ran its mob. One look at her ugly face and they’d kill her—slowly and painfully.

Grabbing her knife, she wiped the bloody blade on the man’s shirt. Next she took the wad of space credit slips from his pocket, before burying the body beneath a pile of refuse. Pia took a deep breath and one last look around before taking off down the alleyway. Daylight would be hitting the cold planet soon. Then all the goons in the city would be looking for her. She had to get out of there.

Pia sprinted, taking the back streets she’d memorized like the roadmap of variegated flesh on the back of her hand. She climbed down to an old, abandoned space dock nestled on the grey shores of the lapping inky river. Going to a pile of rubble, she uncovered the personal transport that would take her off the desolate black planet of ice.

Two weeks later...

Pia didn’t move. The doctors of Galaxy Brides Corporation eyed her, their patient. The pristine white of their walls matched the white of their jackets and even the white of one doctor’s beard. As they searched, they couldn’t see her face beneath the heavy fold of her hooded cape, but they had seen her hand—a wrinkly, scarred mess of disfigured flesh.

“Miss Korbin,” one of the doctors said delicately. “I’ve brought a specialist to speak to you. Your blood tests have all come out fine. But we need to see your face to determine if we are going to be able to correct the damage you described.”

Pia lifted her scarred hands. Her eyes were hard as she pulled back the hood. Instantly, she saw the doctors flinch as they took in her face. She refused to show a reaction. It was the same every time—horror, fascination, repulsion, a rush of unasked questions, followed by a few rudely asked ones.

She knew what she looked like. Read the facts in the reflection of their gazes like a checklist moving over her face.

One eyelid drooped with a covering of flesh, pulling it down at the corner to partially hide the hazel eye beneath. The lashes and brow were long since melted away. Her right eye always watered and she dabbed it with a tissue. Part of her hair no longer grew, except in splotchy patches, which she kept cropped short like the rest of her locks. The burns continued down her skull to the left side of her face, burying an ear, over her neck and shoulder, down her arm, to cover over sixty percent of her body. The scars no longer hurt her when she moved, and she’d gotten used to their tight feel.

The doctor with the white beard cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Miss Korbin, you’re in luck. The burns haven’t affected the structural, ah, integrity of your face.”

“So you can fix it?” she asked with emotional detachment.

“Yes,” the woman doctor answered. Her eyes strayed to the side, trying not to stare at the patient. “But it will be an expensive procedure. With no Medical Alliance insurance...”

“So long as you agree to sign an exclusive contact with Galaxy Brides, it will be covered completely,” the bearded doctor said when the lady hesitated. “We have a shipment—forgive me, a load of eager young women just like you going to Qurilixen in about a week for their Breeding Festival. I can give you a brochure on the planet if you like. I’m told royalty might be there.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Pia had been over all of her options. The Rayvikians were looking for a scarred woman with her description. Soon every lowlife in the galaxy would be trying to collect the price on her head. No, a scarred woman was too easy to see and remember. It wasn’t like she could just change her hair color and blend into oblivion. She had to change her face and, thanks to the Medical Alliance jacking up the cost of every medical service in the galaxy, this deal was the only way she could afford to do it. “Give me the forms. I’ll sign.”

“Wonderful,” the doctor said, evidently claiming the company commission for himself. The others looked at him, as if irritated that they were in for a lot of work. “I’ll order some uploads brought down for you so you can learn about Qurilixen while we perform the surgeries. It might take your mind off the procedure, having the facts of your possible future homeworld loaded into your brain. It will give you something to concentrate on.”

“Miss Korbin,” the lady doctor said pensively. The bearded man walked to the intercom to call for the contracts. “We want you to understand that, due to the nature and advanced age of your scars, it will be a painful procedure. We won’t be able to put you out completely for the entire time.”

“It’s fine.” Her eyes stared forward. “Let’s just do it.”

“Very good. I’ll go set up. We need to get started right away. The first ship leaves in a week and then there will be about a week in a secondary transport before meeting up with the main ship. We only have two weeks to get you looking like the bride you were meant to be.” The bearded doctor smiled. He pushed the intercom again. “Dr. Charles, ready room twelve, please.”

Pia nodded. She touched the scars she’d grown used to. There was a strange comfort to their familiar pattern. She was almost afraid of what she would look like underneath them.

“We also need a waiver from you so we can document the procedure,” the woman doctor said, getting an electronic clipboard from the wall.

“No,” Pia said, stopping her. “I evoke the right of privacy. I don’t want anyone knowing I was here. And I don’t want any pictures taken of me before, after, or during the procedure.”

“But, think of all the people who will be inspired by your story, Miss Korbin,” she insisted.

“Don’t worry, Miss Korbin, if you don’t want pictures there will be no pictures. Our lawyers will even put a privacy clause into your contract if you like. I’m the best in my field, so you have nothing to worry about.” The bearded doctor gave the woman doctor a look of displeasure. The compensation for finding brides was great, as there was a shortage of willing women in the galaxy. He clearly didn’t want to scare the prospective bride off. “We’ll have all your scars removed in no time. Soon it will all be a bad dream. You’ll be very pleased, Miss Korbin, I promise.”

“All but the gash on my ribcage,” Pia said calmly. This doctor knew nothing of bad dreams or the nightmares that could haunt a person even when wake. “Do what you can with the others, but that scar stays.”

Six weeks later...

Pia stared at the mirror. No matter how much she looked at herself, she didn’t recognize the smooth face or wide hazel eyes that stared back at her. The doctors had worked miracles on her. All her burns were gone, her cheek had been reconstructed, her hair follicles stimulated to grow, so she again had a full head of hair. The doctors swore she looked exactly like she would’ve if she hadn’t been burnt.

It was like they scraped off the top layer to reveal what lay hidden beneath. The scars had also been removed from her body. Her left breast was made to match the right, both of them lifted and reshaped. She saw muscle definition, where before the flesh had been so tight she hadn’t been able to see the form beneath it.

Oh, how it had hurt!

The transformation was worse than she could have ever imagined. Sometimes her limbs still ached with the memory of it. She’d never complained, not once during those two weeks of hellish surgeries. What would have been the point? The doctors had done their job. The Rayvikians would never find her. How could they? She couldn’t pick her own face out of a crowd. When she imagined herself, she still looked as she had before. In her dreams she was scarred, running away from a stranger that looked like her.

Pia spent most of the voyage alone, getting check-ups from the robotic doctor on the flight. She couldn’t find common ground with the other women on the ship. They were nice, but they talked of things she knew nothing about—cosmetics, men, marriage. They all seemed fixated with marrying one of the four princes rumored to be attending the mass wedding festival.

Thinking of the festival, she frowned. She had to find a husband. The exclusive contract she had been required to sign said she would go on any voyage Galaxy Brides had until she was married—whether it was this one time, or a hundred times. In the end, the result would be the same, she would be a wife. Until she agreed to take a husband, she was Galaxy Brides’ property to be shipped around from planet to planet, to endless planets. Pia didn’t relish the thought of making more of these trips, and she couldn’t risk a delivery possibly taking her to Rayvik or one of their affiliated districts.

Besides, she thought, Qurilixen doesn’t sound so bad.

The planet was inhabited by primitive male types similar to the hardcore warrior clans of Medieval Old Earth. They had been peaceful for nearly a century—aside from petty territorial skirmishes that broke out every fifteen or so years between a few of the rival houses. They kept to themselves, had a simple religion, favored natural comforts to modern technology, and even prepared their own food.

Really, the Galaxy Brides’ uploads went on and on about how perfectly simple life was for the Qurilixian people. Whenever she tried to sort through the facts, it gave her a migraine. Jamming so much information forcibly into the brain couldn’t be a good thing. Humans were meant to learn organically, through study and determination. Not with artificial brainwave transfer.

Pia took a deep breath, forcing herself to concentrate.

Qurilixen suffered from blue radiation, and over the generations it had altered the men’s genetics to yield only strong, large, male, warrior heirs. Maybe once in a thousand births produced a Qurilixian female.

She sighed, pressing her finger to her temple to stop the throbbing. This would be better than being on some high-tech planet run by dimwits. Pia liked the idea of warriors and combat training. She’d be in her element in such a place. She’d have a better chance of finding herself a job.

And, thankfully, since the planet’s onworld women were so rare, Pia wouldn’t be surrounded by housewives all day, being forced to plan dinner parties.

Well, she thought with an unamused look around her, no women but these and others like them.

Pia was so used to standing off by herself and being rejected before a conversation ever began that she’d been unwilling to make a move towards friendship with any of the other women. With men, you just had to prove yourself in a fight and they would allow you into their ranks. They treated her just like one of the guys. Women were generally much more fickle.

The spacecraft was outfitted with the best accommodations and services the star system had to offer. It all made her uncomfortable. The personal droids followed her around like prison guards. More than once they’d startled her in the mornings, and she’d punched them in the circuit boards before coming fully awake. Even the doctor, that Pia had spent all those hours finishing her treatment with, had been biomechanical.

Cooking units materialized whatever she wanted to eat. If she cared to, she could have probably chosen something beyond mineral supplement paste, but really all food simulator food tasted on the bland side.

The women onboard the ship weren’t all bad and a few Pia even liked, though she hadn’t indicated as much to any of them. They were the only company she’d had in the last month of travel, as they were confined away from the crew members.

Tonight the ship would be landing, and she would walk her imposter’s body toward a future of convenience. Marriage. Even the word felt as unreal as her smooth skin. She really didn’t have an opinion on the subject, as she’d never in her life had cause to consider the question of life mating. She supposed being married was a lot like forming a battle alliance—choosing a partner to aid in mutual survival.

That reasoning made sense to Pia. What didn’t make sense were the upswept hair, short veils and wedding gowns. Surely alliances could be made just as easily in pants.

She looked at her fellow brides. They were all being readied for the Breeding Festival. It was the one night of darkness on the otherwise light planet, and considered the only night the men could choose a mate. It was a primitive ceremony, but Pia thought simple was good. She didn’t fancy standing in front of an audience in her new body. She wasn’t comfortable in it yet and even missed the protective, familiar shell of her old scars.

Gena, one of the women Pia absolutely couldn’t tolerate, laughed. Her voice was abrasive and harsh, as she announced, “Rigan finished her Qurilixian uploads first. It would seem she is most eager to please her new husband.”

Pia rolled her eyes.

“Or to be pleased by him,” someone added from across the circular room.

Pia hated to admit it, but she was nervous. She didn’t know anything about attracting a mate. From what she’d been told, her parents had been happy before her mother died. As to having children, she knew even less. Perhaps there would be a nice blind man in need of a wife—a nice blind man who was sterile and couldn’t have children.

Well, a girl could always dream.

Pia sat still as the beauty droid worked. She’d refused its services for most of the trip. But now, seeing as it was her best option to get married, she let the robot tend to her. Feeling it pull on her overly long blonde locks, Pia frowned. The miles of hair on her head were going to be the first thing to go once this whole marriage business was settled.

“I wish I could be so ambitious. I’m afraid I didn’t sit through a single one of those boring uploads,” another woman said.

After the uploads, Pia was sure she knew more about the planet than most of its inhabitants did. Qurilixen was on the outer edge of the Y quadrant. The planet’s surface was plagued by a soft green haze of light because it had three suns—two yellow and one blue—and one moon.

“I tried on my gown this afternoon,” Gena said, much to Pia’s annoyance. She glanced to see the woman fondling her own breasts. Pia closed her eyes so she wouldn’t be subjected to the scene. Unhampered, Gena continued, “They are gorgeous, but I think I am going to go get my breasts enhanced again—just a little bigger—and I’m going to have my nipples enlarged. Those princes won’t be able to resist me. Maybe, I’ll marry all four of them just for fun.”

Unable to resist poking holes in the annoying woman’s logic, Pia said sarcastically, “How will you know who the princes are? I’ve heard all the men wear disguises. You could end up with a royal guard.”

“Or a gardener,” a brunette offered with a laugh, joining in the fun.

Gena’s face fell. Pia closed her eyes to her. Mission accomplished.

“I hear they wear practically nothing at all.”

Pia shot Olena Leyton an amused grimace, not liking to be reminded of that little fact. Good thing they couldn’t have sex that first night. She didn’t want anyone touching her.

“Except a mask and some fur,” Olena finished.

Pia could take no more. She blocked them out of her mind as she turned to look into the mirror. Again, the stranger’s face was there in place of hers. She willed the skin to melt into the familiar. After a lifetime defined by one moment, to have that definition taken away, left her doubting herself.

When she turned back around, breaking from her own troubled thoughts of getting married, she noticed that most of the women had already left and her beauty droid was long since finished with her. Nodding kindly at Olena, Pia said nothing as she went back to her suite to get dressed.

Lost in thought, she trailed down the long metal corridor to her room. She startled in surprise to hear the medical droid’s voice say, “Miss Korbin, this way. It’s time for your last treatment.”

Pia stopped walking, embarrassed. Seeing the reserved blue gaze of Nadja on her, she knew the woman had heard. Nadja turned quickly away.

Pia changed her course, glad that the treatments would soon finally be over with. Slipping her ID card over the wall scanner, the medic room door opened and she stepped inside a machine. Dropping her white cotton robe, she stood naked as the medical droid closed her in. Instantly, a bright green light shot all around her body. The rays tingled on her naked flesh.

Closing her eyes, Pia swallowed nervously. It was almost time to meet her future husband. She just hoped one of the Qurilixian men would want to bring ugly little Pia home with them.

Chapter 2

This was never going to work. Pia’s heart stopped and tears came to her eyes. She’d spent the last six weeks resigning herself to a Qurilixian husband and now that she saw the grooms, she knew she would have to go back and start the journey all over again. When the uploads had said large warriors, Pia assumed they were politely meaning fat, potbellied fighters. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

But why were men like these paying for brides? Surely a small flight to a neighboring space dock would have been more cost effective. Even for a society that rejected space exploration, though they had the capabilities, the trip to find wives would have provided only a little inconvenience.

Before her were two rows of Qurilixian bachelors. They were large, fighting men. They were warriors. And, to Pia’s everlasting horror, they were all in incredible shape and exceptionally handsome. A few had battle scars on their flesh, but nothing so dramatic that it took away from their beauty. If anything, it only added to their dangerous allure.

The men were nearly seven feet of pure bone, muscle and sculpted flesh. She could tell, since they were practically naked. Pia was no out of shape Wulian debutant, but even she was dwarfed by their thick arms and chests.

Fur loincloths wrapped around their fit waists to leave bare their powerfully built legs and upper bodies. The fire glistened off their smooth, oiled skin. Jewelry clasped around sinewy biceps in golden rings of intricate design. From their solid necks hung crystals bound with leather straps.

Pia knew she looked ridiculous in the outfit the droid had given her to wear. Her shoulders were bared, as the gown only came up to cover her breasts. She could fill the gown out, thanks to the doctors. But the silk and gauze material didn’t make her feel beautiful, only self-conscious. Had she put this outfit on three months ago, she’d have sent children away screaming in fear. She’d give anything for a thick wool cloak and face mask.

Instead, the silk was the darkest of reds, crimson against her tanned skin. The surgery lasers had given her a soft, all-over bronze color that wouldn’t fade. The doctors said it would help protect her sensitive new skin from ultraviolet rays—something that would be particularly useful on a planet with three suns.

Pia sighed as a wave of her long hair hit her forehead. Trying to lift her arm, she frowned when she couldn’t brush the annoying lock off her face. A belt looped across her back, tapering out to the sides, only to lock onto her wrists instead of heading around the front. The strands wound up to her elbows like chains.

The dress fitted to her waist and hips, only to flare out in strips of material when it reached her upper thighs. The wind whipped the skirt against her legs, chilling her. She might as well have been naked for all the coverage the thing afforded her. On her feet were soft, pretty slippers. She missed her combat boots.

Pia ignored the laughing men behind the bachelors, cracking good-natured jokes about the brides and lucky grooms. The rowdier men posed, trying their best to playfully gain the brides’ attention. The bachelors, however, stayed deadly silent and still, barely smiling as they looked at the women standing on top of the docking plank in a straight, orderly line.

Pia’s heart broke as she looked around the wonderful campground. The location was perfect, so basic and simple in its untamed, untouched elegance. The colossal trees of the forest were thick, with large leaves that canopied overhead—the shade would be perfect for camping once she became used to the hours of light. She imagined such a gigantic forest would be great for hunting and fishing, even hiking. Once she learned the local terrain, she could survive off the land here.

This is a place where she could have gotten lost. It was earthy and exotic in its smell of burning wood. It was rustic, yet colorful, in its sights. Primal music played in the background, hypnotic and enticing at the same time.

In the distance there was a mountain range. Pia squinted, barely able to make it out in the darkening skies. Stars sparkled overhead. The moon was large and gave off a brilliant light. It shone over a valley of pyramid-shaped tents, whose walls were lit by torches and whose tops were decorated by waving banners. The vast beauty filled her, called to her. But the sound of laughter pulled her back to reality, to the crowd, to the wedding.

Looking down at the grooms, Pia swallowed painfully, trying not to feel so disappointed. The bachelors still stood like inactive biomechanical guards—almost too perfect to be real. Maybe the next planet would be just as good, only the men would be ugly and attracted to ugly things.

The Qurilixian men had shoulder length hair. Black leather masks covered the grooms’ faces, hiding them from forehead to upper lip. Their eyes shone bright from the eye slits, like probing liquid metal. Behind them, Pia could see the others were more fully dressed. With such a blatant difference in wardrobe for this ceremony, Pia knew that they would be a sexually charged race. Even now she could see the married couples boldly stroking and touching each other as if it were only natural to do so.

This would never be her planet. These would never be her customs.

The line slowly moved, jerking her once more from her thoughts. She dutifully walked down an aisle made up of hot flesh on each side. Her lips curled, though not in pleasure, as she bit the corner of her mouth. She glanced to one side and then the other, knowing full well that no one would look at her for too long with so many other beauties to gaze at. One by one, she saw the men’s eyes alight with lust—lust that wasn’t for her.

Almost to the end of the line, feeling dejected and ready to go back to the ship and change her clothes, she glanced at one of the warriors. He stared at her, his crystal shining from the leather strap on his neck. A handsome specimen with light brown hair a little longer than his comrades and matching brown eyes that seemed to shine. He was taller than the others. He had broad shoulders, which bulged with a rocky play of muscles. He didn’t smile. There was a commanding air to his stance.

Pia expected his eyes to move on as everyone else’s had. When he continued to stare, she frowned, glancing over her shoulder.

How disrespectful! she thought in growing ire when she turned back to see that he was still watching her.

Taking his expression for one of abhorrence, she shot him an angry scowl. She might not be beautiful, but she didn’t need this warrior pointing that fact out to her.

The man bowed his head in her direction. Pia leaned a little away from him as she passed by. Her mouth curled in disgust of his manners. He might be the most handsome of them all, but that didn’t give him the right to judge her.

Without a backwards glance, she continued on, following the throng of women to a feasting table. She took a deep breath, glad the worst part was over. Now that she’d met with rejection, she could eat, get back to the ship, and prepare for the long flight home.

At least the spacecraft wouldn’t be full of women for the second leg of the journey. That would be something anyway. She could hide in her room, away from the universes, hiding beneath layers of clothing and blankets. Maybe if she curled into a small enough ball, Galaxy Brides would forget about her.

Chapter 3

Prince Zoran of Draig’s body lit with fire and his mouth suddenly went dry. He could hardly believe his good fortune. The most beautiful woman in line was destined to be his wife. He could see the firm muscles working beneath her shoulders as she walked. Her arms were slender yet strong. She kept amazing care of herself and moved as if she knew how to use her body to full advantage. Her wide hazel eyes looked around without vanity and when she caught his eye, she seemed surprised that he stared.

But how could he not stare at a vision so lovely?

Zoran’s lips didn’t move to smile. He could barely remember to draw breath. Her tanned skin gleamed in the firelight and the crimson of her gown was wickedly erotic as it hugged to her very pleasing curves.

She glanced over her shoulder and then back at him. The confusion in her eyes turned to a look of instant annoyance. If not for that hard look directed at him, he would’ve reached forward and grabbed her. Remembering at the last moment that he needed to acknowledge her, he did so with a bow.

The woman kept away from him, her eyes narrowing as she hurried past, almost as if she was afraid he meant to touch her. By the look on her face, she wasn’t as pleased with him as he was her. This puzzled him.

Zoran knew he was a handsome, sought after man, even without the title of prince attached to his name. Whenever he traveled outside his planet, women would vie for his attention. When the prostitutes came to Qurilixen to relieve the men, he was always a hard fought for prize, having his pick of any of the beauties—sometimes taking two or three. But those wild days were behind him. He was of the age to finally settle down.

He kept an eye on his bride as she walked away. Her athletic legs strode in perfect form and he felt an animalistic growl growing in the back of his throat. His eyes flashed with the glittering of a barbarous gold. His body already craved her and, by the will of the gods, he would have her.

Pia was ready for the night to be over. She stared at the married couples as they laughed and flirted so easily by the firelight. For a moment, she was jealous, wishing she could be one of the beautiful people she saw enjoying their celebration. They laughed and joked like a giant family, a whole community bonded in trust and loyalty. She knew what it was like to belong to a family, one you could depend on and go to, one who would fight by your side, no questions asked. She imagined this place would be like that for someone who belonged in it.

The brides had been directed to long wooden tables where a large meal had been spread beneath a canopy. It was a veritable feast of roasted two-horned pigs, blocks of Qurilixian blue bread with whipped cheese, strange fruit, and crusted pastries. Pia didn’t eat and she didn’t drink what they offered. She just wasn’t in the mood. As soon as she returned to the spacecraft she planned on a nice, long massage and a bottomless cup of Old Earthen green tea.

The Qurilixian men wore simple tunic shirts and breeches. Servants carried pitchers full of a strange berry wine. Pia’s attention was caught as Olena, at her side, eagerly waved one of the servants over. The man’s light blond hair fell over his shoulders as he bowed. Olena held up her goblet, barely giving him a second glance.

Pia did notice him however. A tingle of warning prickled the back of her neck and down her spine. He was dressed plainly like the others, but Pia knew well the use of a disguise. Clothes didn’t create a person. They did, however, conceal a person. If you watched closely enough, the real person’s nature would always shine through.

She frowned, seeing how the servant’s large hands shook when he poured. They were callused along the side ridge of his palm. This man wielded a sword, probably a heavy blade used typically by foot soldiers. Narrowing her eyes, she studied his movements. He was light on his feet as he walked away, but hadn’t been so graceful when he took Olena’s goblet from her hand, as if he tried not to grip it too hard.

“He makes for a peculiar servant,” Pia mused thoughtfully to herself. Suspiciously, she watched him as he moved along the table. His eyes didn’t travel to the goblets and he seemed more preoccupied with the married couples out by the bonfire pit than with the brides. Bumping into another servant, he mumbled an apology, spilling his wine as he walked down the platform.

“They make for a peculiar race,” Olena mumbled.

Pia glanced at the woman, surprised to hear her answer. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. Forcing herself to laugh softly, she nodded in agreement. “Do you believe this whole deal?”

“What are you doing here anyway?” Olena asked curiously. “You hardly seem like the type to get trapped into coming.”

“Free benefits,” Pia said, her words enigmatic. She could tell Olena meant no insult. Pia’s eyes shadowed for a moment as she watched the blond man slipping away into the dark forest. Absently, she glanced at Olena, seeing the woman was about to speak. Pia stopped her, moving to stand. “I think I’m going to follow that servant. He’s up to something.”

And it’s not like I have anything better to do tonight.

As she tried to leave, she glanced down the dining platform. Pia quickly sat back down. The grooms were coming before them, walking up the platform to the table. She’d have to stay put and follow the servant in a moment. What else was she going to spend the night doing? Besides, it would be nice to explore a little before getting trapped on the ship for another month.

Leaning back, with the plan of waiting out the bride and groom pairings, a figure suddenly loomed before her. She turned her attention upward. The rude stranger who had stared at her in line studied her. She crossed her arms over her chest, showing she wasn’t amused by his joke.

Sure, that’s right, pick on the ugly girl. Ha, ha, ha, very funny. You are so hilarious, Pia fumed inwardly. Even her thoughts came out sarcastically. Her brow lifted as she waited for him to take his best shot. There was no insult he could throw at her that she hadn’t heard before.

Even so, her stomach tightened and she braced herself for the assault.

“I’m Zoran,” the large warrior stated. His voice was softened with the accent of his people. Though the words were gentle, he didn’t smile as he studied her.

Though his tone was seductive in its low pitch, Pia refused to be affected by it. She was too irritated. Her brow lifted higher, as if to say, So? That concerns me, how?

Zoran’s brows knitted beneath his mask. She waited, hating how he drew out the moment. The longer he stared at her, the more attention they would receive. Leaning nearer, he placed his palms on the table and softly ordered her, “Come.”

“Come?” she automatically repeated, the word more a mockery of him than an actual question.

Pia slowly stood and looked him over with a barely contained ire. His offer, if the way he commanded her to go with him could be considered an offer, was the only way she was getting out of the current spotlight. More than likely, he’d simply tell her she wasn’t welcome and to get back on the ship.

Pia considered swinging a fist at his head, but then thought better of it. She wasn’t scared of fighting him, even though he was imposing, it was the fact that he had a festival full of people to back him up. She couldn’t fight them all. So, instead, she said nothing as she came around the table to better face him.

“Come.” He held his hand out like the other grooms had. Pia gave a quick glance around. Did this man expect her to…?

Pia became livid. Oh, real funny. He couldn’t find a wife so he’d come to play games with her. What? Were all his friends watching in the distance? Did he lose a bet? Draw the short straw? Pull the wrong chip? Was he going to lead her to the wrong tent and leave her there as a cruel joke on someone else? Was he going to toy with her and then refuse to let her choose him as a husband? Or, worst of all, did he think she would fall readily into his oversized arms and he’d get a free night of sport?

Standing, hands on hips, she looked him over and forced a sigh.

“Well?” Pia demanded through tight lips. “Lead the way. Let’s get this over with.”

He nodded his head and began to walk.

Pia watched the quiet stranger carefully as she followed him, her eyes scanning the crowd. Other brides were being led forward—some by hand, some not. She saw Olena behind her being carried over a man’s shoulder, a look of amusement on the woman’s face. Turning her attention back to the barbaric Zoran, she eyed him critically, looking for flaws.

He was too big, too muscled, too much hair on his head, too tanned, too built, too...naked, too incredibly graceful when he walked, too handsome of body, too firm, especially in the backside as it moved beneath the fur loincloth.

Pia tightened her fist nervously. What was she doing?

Her frown deepened and she let loose an aggravated sigh. Zoran glanced at her, but held quiet as he continued on. Stopping at a red tent, he moved to open the flap for her.

“Come,” he said.

Pia studied him warily. She lifted her hand to push back the blonde strands that blew across her face, constantly taken aback by them, but her arm was trapped by the belt.

When she didn’t move forward, but only continued to stare, Zoran stepped closer. He repeated his word louder, his tone growing hard as if he was stating a direct order, “Come.”

“After you,” Pia answered, doing her best not to look at the glowing crystal snuggled into the depths of his incredibly admirable chest. An ache moved its way into her stomach.

Oh, wonderful. To top off the perfectly dreadful night, she was going to get sick as well.

Zoran shrugged and led the way in. Pia followed him inside the tent and glanced around. She really had no choice. If she took off too quickly and this man protested, she’d be in some serious trouble with Galaxy Brides. Then all her painful surgeries to disguise herself would have been for nothing.

If she ran away from him too soon, Galaxy Brides could try to call her on her contract. She couldn’t afford to pay them for the surgeries, and she wouldn’t risk them sending out a bulletin with her before-and-after pictures on it. They claimed they didn’t take any, but Pia didn’t trust that lady doctor.

Pia had no choice but to wait this prank out. She couldn’t risk letting the Rayvikians find her. To do so would be a horrific death sentence.

The red dirt floor was covered completely in soft furs. In the middle, beneath the center point of the pyramid, there was a low bed with more furs and pillows. It stood about a half-foot off the ground.

In one corner was a low table with giant pillows on the floor. It was laden with chocolates and fruit. In the next corner was a steaming bathtub with perfumes and oils. In the third corner, she saw a bondage table with straps and whips. She stiffened at that one. If this man tried to tie her down, she’d have no choice but to defend herself.

Without flinching, she went to the low food table and studied it.

“Ah,” she murmured to herself. Zoran tensed as she picked up a knife, but she ignored him. She didn’t wield it at him, but instead turned it on the belt around her waist. With a deft flick, she cut the straps and stretched out her freed arms.

Pia studied the blade for a moment. It would be too dull to slice through her hair.

More’s the pity, she thought, putting the blade down.

Chapter 4

Zoran watched as his bride took the straps from her wrists. She jerked the short veil off her head and dropped it on the floor. Then, grabbing the curls that flowed beautifully down her back, she made quick work of the mass. She tied it into a makeshift bun at her nape to keep the locks off her shoulders.

He wondered if she was perhaps nervous. Though he would never admit it, he was a little apprehensive about this night, but mostly excited. Seeing her aggravation, he knew better. She wasn’t nervous, she was irritated. He was at a loss for words, and unable to speak them even if he could think of what to say to her.

Inside, he was confused. Outside, he gave nothing away. When he’d turned from her to walk to the tent, he’d almost expected her not to follow. Not that she could have escaped. If she’d tried to run, he would’ve gone after her.

Now, he watched her reaction carefully. She gave nothing away. She wasn’t even shocked as her eyes moved past the bondage table.

Who was this woman the gods chose for him?

Zoran’s darkening eyes grew with heat, threatening a transformation. He wanted nothing more than to shift into his dragon form to relieve the desire he felt simmering inside him. The urge to break free of his constraint was strong, to run wild in the forest as a dragon, or, even more so, to leap across the tent as a man and kiss the beauty before him.

Muscles moved temptingly beneath her skin. Her stunningly tanned flesh glowed in the firelight coming from the torches affixed along the tent walls. He wished to tie her, just like that, with her hands trapped above her head so he could have his way, taking his time as he thoroughly explored the long line of her back.

Closing his eyes, he pictured it vividly. He’d take his knife, cutting the slinky material from her skin. He would peel it back to see the tender peaks and hollows of her body. She’d tremble for him. She’d pant as she tried to remain calm. Once naked, his eyes would study her as his hands tested her response. She would grow hot. She would beg. Her mouth would part in beautiful, soft moans. He’d kiss her and they’d make love just like that, with her long legs wrapped about his waist as he thrust.

Nearly moaning with the agony of it, he opened his eyes.

Pia turned and again stretched her arms, completely unaware of his thoughts. When she looked at him, the pleasant expression caused by the simple act of freeing herself from her hair was lost. She scowled and sighed. Placing her hands on her hips, she studied him.

After a long, tense moment, she asked quietly, “Is this some kind of a joke?”

Zoran’s stomach lurched, only to tighten. She was disappointed by him? She didn’t think he was worthy? As the Captain of the Guards, he’d proven himself to the entire kingdom that he was the worthiest fighter in the land. He led armies, won battles and championed tournaments, both on and off planet. But here was the woman destiny had chosen for him and she didn’t think he was good enough for her. The bitterness of it stung like a blow to the gut. She continued to look him up and down in disdain.

Slowly, he shook his head in denial. No, this was no joke. He found nothing funny about his destined marriage.

Pia ignored his silent answer. “What is it? Is someone outside listening?”

Again, he shook his head in denial.

“I know we aren’t getting married, so you can drop the act.” Turning, she plucked a piece of fruit off the table and stuck it in her mouth. Her mouth full, she said, “I’m contracted to go along with this. That’s the only reason I followed you in here. I know you’re up to something. So you might as well get it over with or give me permission to leave. I’m starving and I want to go back to my suite and drink some green tea.”

When he moved, it was with slow purpose. He passed by her, moving to pull a pillow out from the low table for her to sit. She studied him despairingly.

“I’d just as soon eat on the ship,” she said, frowning.

He motioned for her to be seated.

“All right,” she sighed. Her eyes gave away her suspicion.

Zoran sat across from her. Pia eyed him resignedly and waited. When she didn’t move, he motioned to the fruit. She took up a piece and bit into it. Chewing thoughtfully, she took another bite and then another to finish the piece off.

Zoran watched her in silence. She seemed completely unaware of the effect she was having on him, as she placed another piece of fruit in her mouth and licked absently at her fingers. Every once in a while she would sigh as if she were bored. He poured her wine and handed it to her. She took it and sipped dutifully, though he noticed she didn’t swallow it.

His eyes dipped to her lips, still moist with juice. If her attitude was a test to see what he would do, he would show her he was worthy of keeping her. He would prove to her that she’d never find a better husband than he. The crystal had decided. It glowed as proof of their match and his body lit with the fire of her taste. They couldn’t fight their fates. It had been written before they were even born.

Pia hated wine. The smell of it made her sick to her stomach. Holding her breath, she pretended to politely drink and set the glass down. She took more fruit, her stomach beginning to stir with delight at finally being fed.

Eating a few more pieces, she nodded her head at him. “Well, thanks for the food. You have a lovely planet. It’s been real...entertaining.”

He didn’t miss the sarcasm. She didn’t try to hide it.

Zoran lowered his head. He whipped his arm over the table so he could gracefully stalk forward on all fours. Pia watched him, wondering what he was up to. Seeing the expression on his face, she stiffened. Her fingers flexed, wishing for the knife. Her mind told her to stand, that whatever he planned boded ill for her. But she couldn’t move.

A trance fell over her, growing with each pulsing beat of the glowing crystal necklace. Firelight gleamed off the gold bracelet on his arm. She’d been trying to feign disinterest in him as she ate, but her eyes hungrily sought to study him. It was torture to want him and know he couldn’t possibly want her.

Pia parted her lips in breath. He didn’t stop until he’d crawled completely to her. His brown eyes bore unflinchingly forward, trying to claim her soul as they explored her. In that moment, she felt him connecting to her. It was strange. It was almost like she knew him and that he wasn’t a stranger at all. But how could she know him? She’d never been to this quadrant before.

Zoran settled his hands on either side of her thighs. He trapped her down without touching her. Pia’s eyes widened as his closed. She swallowed nervously, pressing her lips shut and pulling them tight against her teeth as he neared her for a kiss. The first brush of him sent a shockwave over her spine. She trembled violently, feeling the rough texture of his tongue as he licked over her bottom lip.

Pia didn’t return his peculiar kiss. Zoran took his time, licking the juice from her mouth. He traced the seam with his tongue, prying her lips apart as he pushed deeper.

Her breathing deepened. Her heartbeat quickened. His probing met with the barrier of her teeth. He moved to suck her bottom lip into his mouth. A jolt washed over them both at the intimate act. She stubbornly refused to allow him entrance.

Pia stayed frozen in shock. She didn’t know what to do. It felt wet and wrong, yet so incredibly right. Her head lightened, nearly swooning with the pleasure of contact. His lips pressed closer, trying to get hers to move. She didn’t know how, she had never kissed a man. To her amazement, she realized the doctors had repaired not only her skin, but her delicate nerve endings as well. Before, her whole left side had been dead to the lightest of touches. Why that fact hadn’t registered before now was a mystery. Her mouth tingled with feeling.

Zoran inched forward, his kiss forcing her to lean back. He didn’t look at her. She couldn’t stop staring at him. How could this be happening? How could a man like this want to kiss her? The dark demons of her past reared their ugly heads and she pushed his shoulder violently to stop him.

“That’s enough,” she said. Her whole body ached in protest of the broken contact. The ache had begun to grow, spinning its web within her stomach. Her words were not as strong as she would’ve liked, as she said, “You’ve had your fun. Now point me in the direction of my ship.”

He shook his head. Her hand was still on his shoulder, trying to hold him back from her precarious position. It would be so easy to pull him back to her or push him firmly away. She wanted to pull him close. Zoran leaned over to nip playfully at her wrist. Pia snapped it from him as if he’d tried to sting her.

“Come to the bed,” he urged her. His eyes shifted and flashed with danger.

“No!” she practically screamed. She scrambled back to get away from him before rising to her feet. She should’ve known that was all he wanted from her. Should she really be surprised that on a planet full of men they’d be desperate enough to take her to bed?

Zoran stood, hopping up in one swift movement to tower above her.

“Stay back,” she commanded. “I’m not a prostitute. I’ll not whore for you.”

That stopped him.

With a scowl, she looked around the tent. Then, storming to the front flap, she was surprised when he was there to block her way. She gasped. She hadn’t heard him move.

He lifted his hand to obstruct the exit.

Pia stared at him hard, ordering, “Move.”

Zoran didn’t budge. His jaw lifted.

“I said move,” she growled fiercely. “Your game isn’t going to work. I’m not staying here and sleeping with you. Now move it.”

He shook his head. Pia hesitated and her brows furrowed.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” she warned.

Zoran grinned.

Pia was enraged. Was he laughing at her? Her eyes dipped for a moment and she swung her fist, upper-cutting square into his jaw. The force of the hit took him by surprise and he stumbled back. Her plan had worked. The smile was gone.

Pia dipped from the tent without a moment to lose, shaking out her fist. Blast, but the man had a hard jaw. Soon, she was storming around the sides of the red pyramid, looking for his eavesdropping friends. She found the pathways to be empty.

With a frustrated sigh, she looked all around, even at the sky. She noticed the moon still shone bright and blue. What was going on here?

Pia was glad for the air. It cooled her fiery skin. His touch still lingered on her mouth and she was sure she would still feel it in the months to come. She wasn’t stupid. She could guess that her body was awakening to him. But why him? Why now? It had never bothered to stir with longing before. What had those doctors done to her?

“Come.”

Pia trembled in fear despite herself. She heard the rough growl before she’d even heard him approach. As she spun on the backs of her heels to face him, she didn’t let her fear show. Her father had taught her that confidence was half the battle.

Zoran narrowed his eyes. His chest heaved in controlled anger as if he couldn’t believe she’d actually hit him.

Well, what had he expected? Meek obedience?

Pia eyed the warrior and then turned her back on him. Just to irritate him, she began to walk away. Zoran’s voice left his throat in another growl. He sprung forward. She tried to duck from his grasp, but he’d been ready for that. He caught her as she spun away and pulled her hard to his chest.

Pia stiffened in panic. She looked up at his serious brown eyes shining through the mask. Her heart hammered in her chest at the nearness.

The folds of his hard muscles pressed into her, boldly pushing into the full length of her body. But it was the hot press from under his loincloth that kept her from screaming. Her hips lurched in hesitant response.

“Your name,” Zoran said quietly.

“Pia,” she answered truthfully, momentarily stunned. “Pia Korbin.”

Zoran took a step and then another. He allowed her to feel his desire for her as he walked her with him. Before she realized what he was doing, he’d walked her back to the tent opening and was ushering her inside. He kept his large arms wrapped around her, trapping her to him, but not hurting. She felt his chest muscles working as he moved, muscles that could lift her with ease, throw her, crush her, touch her, and control her to his will.

Insanity threatened to fog her brain. She wanted to be kissed. She wanted to be touched with affection and longing. She wanted to be held. She wanted it to be his lips and his hands and his body that did it. But he was so handsome, even with his face covered. He couldn’t possibly want her, not like she wanted him to.

Pia knew she didn’t affect him as he affected her. His heart was steady and sure. His breath was too calm. Her lips parted as he pulled her closer.

Pia panicked, thinking he meant to head-butt her. She dipped her face to the side, whacking him in the cheek with her forehead. Zoran let her go in surprise.

Pia stumbled back. She tried to smirk but she was too disturbed to make the look last. “You want some more? You want to get beat up by a girl?”

Zoran glared. Now she was taunting him?

When he’d followed her outside, he’d been stirred by her boldness. Her blonde hair had glistened in the blue moonlight as had her hazel eyes. She was the very vision of strength and beauty. She looked like a goddess but had the temperament of a demon. What games did the gods play with him?

As he fought to control his anger, another passion threatened his sanity. It rose fiercely beneath the fur of his loincloth, ready to do battle, ready to conquer. She had spirit and fire and a wealth of passion. It called to him.

When he held her he liked the softer feel of her skin against him. She smelled like fresh fruit on a warm spring day. His body reeled with passion. It flowed into his feverish blood.

Zoran desired her like he had no other woman before her. Her breasts rose and fell beneath his gaze, tempting his mouth. He was so sure he saw her desire for him, yet she refused.

“Choose,” he said, desperate to have his say. If she wanted to fight with him, fine. Let her face his sharp tongue as well. No more attacking when he couldn’t verbally defend himself against her.

“Choose?” she blinked in surprise, her voice turned as soft as falling leaves.

She stared at him with a look akin to horror.

Oh, but this was an aggravating wench the gods had sent him. Surely his brothers weren’t given such headaches. They were all probably cozying up on their beds, talking and kissing. Not him, he’d gotten the shrew of the bunch. He’d asked her to marry him and she looked at him as if he carried a plague.

Chapter 5

Choose? Did he just ask her to marry him?

“What in the—?” Pia began roughly, coming to her senses the moment she saw a smile curling his lips.

“Choose.”

She shook her head once in denial.

Zoran’s smile faded as he took a step forward in warning. His face turned red. He clenched his fists in anger. “Choose.”

“No,” she stated louder.

“Choose!”

“I can’t marry you,” she shouted, incredulous, knowing her eyes shot daggers at him and not caring. “Are you insane?”

Zoran darted forward. His naked chest glistened as his bare feet stepped over the floor. Pia ducked away. His eyes narrowed. He came for her again. She’d managed one punch with the element of surprise and thought she could do it again.

With lightning speed, she kicked. Bringing her whole body around as she jumped for his head. Zoran’s fingers snapped onto her ankle with one hand, effectively stopping her foot from striking. Pia landed awkwardly on the ground. As he held her leg in the air, she straightened, rotating her hip as she jerked her leg, trying to set herself free.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he held her ankle tight, not letting go. The position lifted her skirt and she knew he could easily see her underwear. He licked his lips. “Choose.”

“No!” Pia shouted, mortified. Bringing her free foot forward, she flung her body back. Zoran had no choice but to let her go as she back-flipped out of his hold. It was a foolish move on her part. If he’d restrained her, she’d have broken her ankle.

Pia landed neatly, bouncing the cramp out of her liberated leg. Daringly, she looked at him in challenge. Pleased by the knowledge that her new body could fight as well as her old one, she hid her smile.

“Choose,” he said calmly.

“No,” she repeated. In that one instant, it became a game. Challenge lit in their mutual gazes. Pia relaxed, now on familiar territory. Fighting she could do.

Zoran never envisioned he’d be sparring on his wedding night. He never imagined his bride would be so well trained. With a little polishing, she would make a fine soldier, not that he intended on letting her fight in battle. That had been the old way. But, after many men lost their wives and the population dwindled for a generation, they’d changed tradition for the sake of their people. Besides, he planned on keeping his family safe. It was the man’s job to protect.

Pia darted forward, striking her arms in swift blows to attack him. He blocked her easily, returning moves only to have them opposed by her maneuvering. He didn’t turn the full force of his training on her, not wanting to hurt her. But, as the leader in him naturally moved to test her skill, he was impressed beyond words.

To his amazement, he realized she was enjoying herself. Her eyes sparkled in a way that he hadn’t seen all night.

Zoran’s hand knocked a bruising blow into her arm. Pia flinched but didn’t stop for an instant as she regained her footing. She didn’t whine in pain or call a time out as he’d seen younger soldiers do at such a hit. He nodded at her, pleased.

“Choose.”

“No.”

They sparred around the room, kicking and punching, circling and gauging. Zoran watched her chest heave, delighting in the flushed color coming to her neck and cheeks. Her eyes twinkled like they carried stars.

Her punch went long and he trapped her to his chest. He held her ass against his fur-covered arousal. Nipping her delicate ear, he murmured, “Choose.”

Pia bucked away and gasped, “No.”

The fight continued. He blocked all her best moves, but, to her credit, she was blocking most of his. Her blood flushed her features. Sweat glistened on his.

Kicking fiercely, she landed a foot in his ribs. He grunted as he fell to the side onto the fur bed. Pain radiated up his side and he closed his eyes.

He heard Pia’s hard breathing. Wryly, she said, “Well that was disappointing. You’re not much of a warrior, are you?”

When he didn’t rise to the bait, she came closer.

“Oh, blasted stars,” she whispered. “Are you breathing? Please tell me I didn’t kill you.”

She slowly pushed his shoulders back and leaned her cheek over to his mouth to listen for his breath. A hand slipped over his heart. It beat steadily. Unable to resist, he licked her cheek just as his hand grabbed her wrist to hold her palm to his chest. Pia gasped and tried to pull back.

Zoran wasn’t wasting such a good plan, and he definitely wasn’t absorbing a blow like that for nothing. He instantly wound his arm around her, rolling her over. Her body was trapped beneath his. Pia’s eyes flickered, becoming soft and feminine. He ground his hips intimately into her. Lust fired through their rushing blood, spreading quickly. Her words might deny it, but he felt the subtle shifts of her body against him.

This time when he kissed her, she didn’t refuse. Pia’s mouth moved naturally against his.

Finally, he thought.

Zoran was pleased her passion matched his. He pressed into her, receiving her kiss. She became gentle as she touched him, soothing the many places she had moments before tried to strike.

Her hands glided over his flesh. She moaned. His weight forced her legs to part for him. His kiss deepened, taking her breath from her. Soon he was tugging at her clothes, baring her chest.

Hungrily, he eyed her. His breath came in harsh pants, as he moved to taste her flesh. She shivered beneath his hands. Pressing his mouth against her throat, he rumbled, “Choose.”

“No,” came her instant answer, but she didn’t stop touching him. She didn’t push his kiss away.

Zoran’s body was on fire. The blood rushed in his veins from their sparring, stirred feverishly by the taste and smell of her. She desired him. Her scent filled his head. She pressed into his hard body. However, he couldn’t finish claiming her this night. The council would know if they came together completely. She would be taken away from him and he’d be alone.

Just a while longer, he thought, sucking deeply at her breast. His groan of pleasure joined hers.

Pia’s muscles were loosened for the first time in a long time. She’d practiced and exercised by herself, but it wasn’t the same as having a live sparring partner. When she’d struck at him, she was amazed at the grace with which the big man moved. It was arousing, the way he stood up to her. Not many men could.

His growl echoed over her, reverberating along her flesh. Zoran kissed his way down her body, taking a ripe nipple into his mouth. It was the most intimate touch she’d ever experienced and her body exploded with pleasure as she discovered nerve endings she’d never realized she had. His teeth bit lightly and his tongue soothed the ache.

“Ah,” she moaned, almost afraid to feel what he did to her. Yet, she was powerless to stop it. No man had ever taken her down, by ploy or by force. That this man could do so excited her to the point that she forgot who she was.

Pulling up, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath—breath that had been steady during their fight but now panted like he’d run fifteen miles full out. Looking into the passion-hazed depths of her eyes, he said, “Choose.”

“No.” She gasped as he pressed his arousal into her. The promise of gratification flooded her at the intimacy.

Zoran grabbed her hand in his. Moving her fingers to the side of his head, he forced her to pry the mask from his face, not seeming to notice when she pulled out a few strands of his hair. His hair spilled over her as it was released. He let her hand go. Pia clutched the mask, looking at him in amazement. She stiffened to see the excitement in his expression. It frightened her.

No. He frightened her.

Zoran had strong, proud features with the face of a devil—a wickedly handsome devil—and he gazed at her without repulsion. His nostrils flared. His lids narrowed possessively. She was amazed he wanted her so badly, that he would force her hand in removing the mask.

“You chose,” he stated, lowering to kiss her neck. Groaning against her, he announced, “You are mine.”

Chapter 6

“My king,” the blond servant said. He was glad to be away from the crowd. He’d seen the way that pretty bride had been watching his movements. She didn’t trust him. Good thing the other Draig fools did. He’d made his way from her, through the forest of colossal trees. The torches didn’t reach this part of the grounds, but the moon shone brightly to light the way in a blue glow. He didn’t need light. He smelled where he was going.

Stopping suddenly, the man stuck his hand over his heart and bowed. He was dressed as a servant, but his eyes looked around with the cunning of a spy. “All the princes have found brides.”

“Very good,” King Attor answered, smiling a cruel smile. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Finally. I have waited so long for this day.”

“My king?” the soldier asked, confused.

“I promised myself long ago that I would see to the end of this royal family. They will know the pain of a broken heart and the foolishness of mating to one woman.”

“Yes.” The soldier’s word lacked conviction. Such a statement was unlike King Attor. The man rarely gave credence to emotions.

King Attor stepped forward, his nostrils flaring in disgust. The servant had to wear the Draig scent so they wouldn’t discover him. The king stayed back, avoiding being downwind. “Let us wait until they are bonded completely. Only then can we assure the end of their line. Once those Draigs lose their mates they will be finished. The new princesses will die, starting with the oldest son’s bride. The line of the Draig rule will be ended one by one and the Var will once more be the only force in this land. King Llyr and Queen Mede will watch everything they’ve built crumble into ashen death. Before this is over, the Draig will bow to me as my slaves.”

The warrior-servant smiled, thinking of the pretty blonde princess who’d been curious about him. It would be a shame to kill her. She was beautiful. But, once bonded to Prince Zoran, she would never choose another man for her mate. Not that he had any qualms about forcing her to choose him in the most gratifying and temporary of senses.

King Attor of Var rolled his neck on his shoulders as he shifted into a more natural form. Hair grew to cover his face and body, claws formed on his hands. His mouth elongated, gnashing with sharpened fangs. When he looked back, it was through the eyes of a wild cat. His voice crackled in slow tones in the back of his throat. “Go.”

The spy took off into the trees, not shifting for fear it would unmask his scent. He’d been in the Draig household for almost a year now, smelling them, eating their food. And, Sacred Cats, he was ready for the torment to be over.

Chapter 7

You are mine.

Zoran’s words echoed through his mind and he was unable to think beyond them to what he’d done. The mask was still clutched firmly in her fingers. She carried it over the flesh of his back as she moved to touch him, losing her inhibitions.

As much as he wanted to continue down this most seductive path, Zoran knew he had to slow before he became completely mindless. Bracing his weight on his forearms, he studied her. Pia blinked in surprise as he stopped kissing her. Taking a strand of her long blonde hair, he brushed it off of her face before trailing his fingers over her lush lips. Lightly, without thinking, he whispered, “You’re so beautiful, Pia.”

Pia froze as if it was the worst thing he could have said. Zoran felt the instant change in her. Slowly, she blinked, her eyes becoming cold and hard.

“Get off me,” she said.

Zoran pulled back, confused by her tone. What happened? Why was she suddenly so angry?

“Get off,” she said. “Or I’ll scream so loud the entire encampment will know of my displeasure.”

Zoran had no choice but to pull back. Her breasts were still bare, the peaks a little red from his enthusiastic treatment of them.

Pia grabbed a piece of fur from the bed and pulled it across her chest. Working quickly, she tucked it around her shoulder in a makeshift shirt.

“You forced me to remove the mask,” she said, not looking at him. She picked the mask off the floor and threw it at him. He caught it against his chest. “Put it back on.”

Zoran scowled. He didn’t obey. Instead, he went to a torch and set fire to the mask.

Pia ran after him to stop him. In her haste, the burning mask dropped from his fingers and landed on his arm. His skin instantly hardened in defense. She gasped in fright and jerked away from him.

Zoran turned from her before she could see the beginnings of his shift. It wouldn’t do to give her more reason to reject him.

When he turned back around, she was trying to stomp out the fire with her slippered foot. It did little good. The mask was destroyed. Angry, she looked up at him. “Let me see your arm.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled.

“You’re burnt.” Although her words spoke of concern, her features expressed annoyance.

“It’s fine,” he repeated uncomfortably, not used to being coddled.

Pia huffed. Going to him, she grabbed his arm and lifted it to the light. As he’d said, it was fine. The flesh was unharmed.

“How?” she questioned in awe. “I saw...I felt you jolt.”

“I was trying to stay your attack,” he lied. In truth, his arm had shifted just in time to save his skin.

“Oh,” Pia breathed. As if realizing she held his arm and was standing a little too close, she dropped it with a harsh push and stepped back. Recapturing her outrage, she asked, “Now what are we supposed to do, you dolt? You’ve ruined the mask.”

“Now you are my bride.” Zoran placed his hands on his hips, daring her to deny his claim to her.

“I am not,” Pia yelled. “You forced my hand.”

“Prove it,” he said with an aggravating smirk pulling at his expression.

Pia visibly shivered.

“If you like,” he continued. “I can take it up with your corporation. I’m sure they will see things my way.”

“You bastard. You can’t do this.”

“I already have.” He didn’t mind this game of domination. He went to the table and poured himself some wine. She glared at him as if he were insane, when he lifted a goblet to her in offering.

“I hate wine,” she ground out.

Zoran shrugged, having guessed as much. Her lips didn’t taste of it when he’d kissed her and he knew she hadn’t drunk it.

“Why do you do this?” she asked. “What could you possibly have to gain in marrying me?”

Zoran tried not to flinch at her obvious displeasure in him. Setting the wine goblet down, he turned to her. His body hadn’t cooled as easily as hers.

“Are you just a monster? Is that it?” Pia was clearly thoroughly confused. Throwing up her hands, she said, “For you must be a sadist to force me to stay here.”

Zoran’s jaw hardened and his eyes became dark. He resisted the urge to shift and growl in frustration. “Being my wife brings you pain?”

Pia didn’t answer fast enough for him.

Zoran came forward, swiftly taking her in his arms. “Maybe I should show you the pleasure of belonging to me.”

“I’m not property,” she stated, jerking her face from him.

“No,” he agreed, to her greater distress. “You’re not. But you are mine, just as I am yours.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Not yet,” he answered, purposefully mistaking her words for a challenge. “But give me a chance. I’ll make you beg for me.”

“I don’t beg, Zoran.” her words lacked heat as she struggled to be free. He held tighter.

“Your lips don’t,” Zoran agreed, knowing she would never ask him for what she so obviously wanted. “But your body does. I can smell it on you.”

“You smell me,” she grimaced. “Then let me go and I’ll take a bath.”

“You will bathe for me?” Zoran grinned. He was enjoying himself way more than he should have been.

“Oh,” Pia harrumphed, rolling her eyes. “Please.”

“Please?” Zoran asked softly, moving forward as if to nuzzle her neck. Her arms were trapped to her sides so she couldn’t punch him, but it didn’t stop her from trying to head-butt him. He pulled back just in time.

“So much passion,” he mused in a low sultry voice that gave her chills.

“Not for you.”

“You have a sharp tongue, don’t you wife?” He leaned as if to kiss her. She tried to bite him. Zoran snapped his head back. “I bite back.”

“Try it and you’re dead.”

“It’s not good to threaten your life mate. If I die you will be alone.”

“If I’m your life mate, your life will be very short indeed.” Wiggling for good measure, Pia didn’t succeed in setting herself free.

Zoran almost groaned in agony when she rubbed against his already potent erection. It was really the wrong tactic if she wanted him to let her go.

“And make no mistake, you can be replaced,” she threatened.

He opened his mouth to rebut, but her next words stopped him.

“Why do you want me as a wife?” Pia asked. There was no vulnerability in the hard question. “Why would you want a wife that doesn’t want you?”

“Quit saying that you don’t want me. I can smell the fragrance—”

“Finish that sentence and I promise to knock your teeth out of your head,” she warned.

“Are you ashamed?” he asked, surprised by the swift, maiden-like defense.

“Ashamed? The only thing I’m ashamed of is finding myself here with yo—uahh.”

Zoran swooped in for the kiss, delighting in the soft feminine sound of her answering moan.

Pia melted at the expert movement of his lips. His skill was too much for her innocence. She forgot the battle as she relaxed into his arms.

Zoran broke the kiss and witnessed her dazed eyes staring back at him in wide wonder. This was more like it. Her mouth was still parted, as if she could still feel his lips. He smiled in manly satisfaction.

“Tell me how one so beautiful gained so much fire.” He couldn’t stop looking at the fine structure of her face.

Pia’s mouth snapped shut and her face turned into a mask of ice. She tore from his arms with a surprising burst of force.

“Mock me again an—” she began in warning, pointing at him.

Zoran blinked, confused. He lifted his hands to stop her words. “I know, you’ll kill me or maim me in some impossible way.”

“I’ll do it,” Pia said, angered that he didn’t think she could.

“I’m sure you’d try.” A small devilish part of him looked forward to the idea. Life with Pia would not be boring.

Pia adjusted her fur shirt. Her eyes were hot pools of lava as she tried to ignore him. He thought her captivating in her tirade. To his delight, he saw the curve of her breast peek from beneath the fur before she righted it.

“Go away,” she said. “I want to take a bath.”

“I can’t.” He settled on the fur and turned toward the tub with the intention of watching her. “This is my tent and I cannot leave.”

“What if I set it on fire? Could you leave then?” Pia asked with a smirk, as if the idea had some merit.

“It won’t burn. See how the torches touch it,” Zoran mused, absently. He was too busy imagining the different positions he could take her in.

Zoran sat back up, near to where Pia stood. Lifting his hand, he touched her leg playfully and tried to run his palm up beneath the seam of her red skirt. She swatted at him and stepped away.

“Are you always this impossible?” she huffed. He grinned.

Pia moved to tug at the big piece of fur beneath him. After a mighty struggle, he lifted and let her have it. As she moved, his hand pulled the end of her fur shirt. With a jerk, her breasts fell bare and he smiled with pure delight. She gasped, hiding beneath the fur coverlet.

“You’re a brute,” she mumbled.

His smile widened.

Curiously, he watched her as she kept her back to him. Taking the coverlet, she draped it on two torch sconces and made a wall between him and the tub. Then, she eyed the fur for holes.

“You’d better keep back if you value your manhood,” she said as she disappeared behind the curtain.

“This does not please me,” Zoran yelled, just to be irritating.

“I don’t really care.” He heard Pia shrug out of her tattered red wedding dress and step into the warm bath. With a sigh of relief, she sunk into its depths and didn’t move.

“Can I join you?” Zoran called, only to hear her splash. His strained cock was on fire and he knew it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“I’ll have to drown you.”

“May I wash you, then?” he tried, his voice dipping.

“Pain,” Pia growled in dark response. “Death and pain.”

Zoran smirked, hearing her yawn. Their little foreplay workout had taken a lot out of her. Glancing down at his enthusiastic erection, he sighed. Too bad it couldn’t take anything out of him.

“So you admit you’re staying?” Zoran asked. The imaginary gremlin on his shoulder made him say it.

“I have no choice.”

Zoran frowned at her dejected words. Coming to sit on the other side of the fur, he gave her privacy. He looked at the fur curtain, but couldn’t see through it.

“I’ll make you a good husband, Pia,” Zoran said seriously, all teasing gone from his tone. He reached his hand around the fur barrier and his wrist draped over the side of the bath so that his hand dipped into the water.

Pia jumped to hear his voice so close to her. She tensed, ready to strike. When his head didn’t follow his hand, she relaxed. Absently, his finger swirled the water’s surface.

Pia moved to lather her arms, keeping an eye on him. If he turned her in to the corporation, the Rayvikians would find her. Besides, she liked this planet and its culture. The only thing she didn’t like was her husband. But, hey, no life could be perfect. If anything, she’d have someone to spar with and to aggravate. The imaginary gremlin on her shoulder winked at her and grinned.

“Did you hear me, Pia? I said I’ll make you a good husband. I think we’ll do well together. We are clearly attracted to each other.”

She perceived his words to be a placating lie. How could he be attracted to her? She looked at her hands. Well, truthfully, his words thrilled her on a baser level, which in turn terrified her, which in turn made her angry because she shouldn’t let him get to her, which in turn irritated her because she shouldn’t have cared enough in the first place. She wanted his anger back. She needed it. She couldn’t fight this gentleness. His softly accented words, combined with the thrilling strength of his body, were doing something to her head, making her weak-kneed and pliable.

“Pia?” he insisted.

“That remains to be seen,” Pia answered after a moment, not giving an inch. She looked at the fur, glad her voice didn’t waver. Tears entered unbidden into her eyes.

“We will have strong sons. I’ll give you a strong family, one that will make you proud.”

She watched his powerful fingers rippling the water, tempted to reach her foot to them so she could feel his light touch on her leg. She refused to move, content to stare at him. Her eyes became mesmerized by the undulation he caused on the water.

“I don’t know that I want children,” Pia said truthfully. The idea made her heart nearly explode in her chest with panic. “I’m not the nurturing type, Zoran. I have nothing to offer a child.”

Zoran drew his fingers back, flicking the water off of them as his arm once again disappeared behind the curtain.

Pia’s hair was pulled back in the bun and she left it, refusing to wash the locks. Twirling a wayward piece thoughtfully, she asked, “Do you have a sharp knife?”

“I have several.”

“I meant here, now, with you.”

“No, why?” It almost sounded like he chuckled.

“No reason, really. I just wanted to cut off this hair. The corporation made me grow it and it’s too heavy.”

Zoran pulled at the fur, to see if she was serious.

“Get out,” Pia screamed at him, trying to cover her body with her hands. Curling into a ball, she glared at him.

Zoran ignored her. He looked at her hair and, like a typical male, declared, “You are not cutting your hair!”

Pia’s eyebrow shot up. Oh, she was definitely shaving her head now, if only to aggravate him.

“You have no say in it.” She laughed to irritate him further. “I’ll do whatever I please. It’s my hair.”

“Why would you purposefully disfigure yourself?” he asked in surprise. “Do you seek to shame yourself, shame us?”

“It’s just hair, Zoran,” she drawled. “Now go away so I can get dressed.”

In aggravation he dropped the fur back down and said, “We will discuss your hair later.”

Pia heard him stand and stalk away. She smiled. He was definitely upset. It might only be hair, but she’d take the victory however it came.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” she answered, her tone flippant. “I’ll do whatever I wish.”

A low grumble in the Qurilixian tongue was her only reply.

Chapter 8

The torches had begun to dim when Pia took the fur coverlet from the sconces and pulled it around her naked body. Zoran lay on the bed, his ankles crossed and his hands threaded behind his head. He looked thoughtfully at her and gave her a slight, interested smile.

“Any chance you are planning on spending the night outside this tent?” she asked dryly.

Zoran’s grin widened. He clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

“Any chance you’re going to share that blanket with me?” he questioned instead. His eyes lit with meaning as they dipped over the fur.

“Not on your life.” She lay down next to him, though far enough away that he couldn’t touch her without making an effort.

“What if I said I was cold?”

“Sorry,” she answered without a moment’s consideration. She turned her back on him, snuggling into the warmth. Giving a contented sigh, she said, “I’d have to tell you to quit being a baby.”

“I’d share with you.”

Pia stiffened. His voice had drifted closer though she hadn’t felt him move. The bed hadn’t shifted under his weight. She closed her eyes, concentrating on him while pretending to fall asleep.

Gradually, she felt the light caress of a hand on her hip, running softly up her side over the fur. Her arms were buried beneath the blanket so he didn’t meet with flesh. Slowly, he worked his fingers into the bun in her hair, loosening the strands and combing them out with his fingers. Pia shivered, starting not to mind her hair for the first time since growing it. When she didn’t scream, Zoran grew bolder, edging closer so his body curved along hers.

She felt a tender kiss on her neck as his face buried into her locks. He breathed deeply.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered boldly. “I’ve wanted to since the moment I first saw you.”

Pia scrunched up her nose in disbelief. Some men would say anything for sexual release.

Zoran discovered an opening in the fur and dipped his hand in to find her bare stomach. He kissed her again, nudging the fur down over her arm. Pia couldn’t move, could barely breathe. She tensed against his expertly searching caress. Since first walking into his tent, she’d felt a wondrous fog tempting her. It now threatened her tired mind, and she didn’t fight him as hard as she should have.

Zoran’s fingers bumped the long scar on her ribs. He trailed down it and found her navel buried in her flat belly. He dipped his hand lower only to pause on her stomach. She tensed beneath his fingers.

“Turn around,” he urged against her long neck. “Let me kiss you.”

Pia didn’t move. His kisses dotted insistently behind her ear.

“I want to look at you,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

Skeptically, she asked, “Why?”

“Because it would give me pleasure.” He massaged her stomach in little agonizing circles. His callused palm felt so good against her skin.

Pia did turn, but it wasn’t to receive his kisses. “Do you think you’re funny?”

She grabbed his hand and threw it back. What had she been thinking, marrying a complete stranger? Oh, right, it was either this man or being skinned alive.

At least being skinned has a definite ending, she thought, wondering what it was going to be like living out the rest of her days with this gigantic frustration next to her.

“Pia—?” Zoran asked, confused.

“You want to see?” Pia fumed, tearing and kicking out of her blanket. She was completely naked except for her underwear. “Now will you leave me the hell alone? Huh?”

Zoran’s eyes unabashedly roamed her skin

“Have you had enough of a laugh, Zoran? Or do you want more?” Pia grabbed her underwear, tugged them down and kicked them off. They flew off the end of her foot. Outrage blazed in her heated gaze. “Is that enough? Have you seen enough?”

Pia didn’t stop there. She tore up from the bed, holding her hands out to the side before twirling in one angry circle. Her hair whipped around her shoulders.

Zoran’s eyes swept to the part between her thighs. Unconsciously, he sat up, a smile beginning to line his mouth.

Her lips trembled and her eyes pooled with moisture. Quivering, she snatched up the fur and wrapped it around her arms. With jerky movements, she stomped around the bed and lay down on the opposite side.

The way he had looked at her and the smile on his face, had torn at her soul. He was so handsome. Even if he seemed pleased with her now, even if she could believe his touch wasn’t meant in ridicule, in the morning it would be different. He would be ashamed of her. How could he not be? She was ashamed of herself.

Zoran frowned. Rolling over, his hand lifted to touch her, only to hesitate. His wife was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Aside from the long gash down her ribs, she was smooth and tanned. He itched to explore her. His mouth longed to taste every inch of her. She was gorgeous.

He had been enjoying her twirling performance. The hair between her thighs was trimmed short and instantly drew his attention. How could Pia mistake his look of desire for amusement?

“Pia,” he began, undaunted as he reached to touch her. She jerked her arm away and moved to the outermost edge of the low bed, so far she nearly fell off. Zoran lurched forward and grabbed her hip, holding her up. He forcibly dragged her into his embrace and turned her face to his. He stroked her cheek. Her wide hazel eyes stared back at him. They were the loveliest shade of brown and green, perfectly combined.

The crystal glowed softly between them, urging his lips forward to kiss her pain away. His mouth was gentle. His hands were searching, as he slowly peeled the fur aside to find her flesh.

Zoran wouldn’t make the mistake of calling her beautiful again. But she was beautiful. So beautiful that it was inconceivable she didn’t know it. So, he just assumed she did know and had been hurt because of it.

He stroked along her neck, happily feeling her racing pulse. He glided through the valley of her breasts and down her stomach. When he turned his fingers, moving to cup her between the thighs, she jolted.

“Ah,” she moaned, trying to close her legs. It was too late. He had his hand pressed to her sex and had no intention of moving it away.

“Shh,” he whispered into her mouth, keeping her dazed with his soft kiss. “Don’t think, Pia. Just feel me. Just feel my hand. I’m not going to hurt you.”

To his relief, her fingers lifted to his shoulder and lay still, tentatively holding him to her, but poised so she could push at any moment.

His words were soothing, as if taming a wild animal. “Close your eyes.”

She obeyed.

“You are my wife,” he stated, so there would be no mistake. “I’ll look at you. I’ll have you look at me. Do you understand?”

Weakly, she nodded.

“I’ll kiss you, Pia,” he murmured, deepening his kiss slightly before pulling back. He lifted his hand from her thighs to touch her neck. “And I’ll touch you.”

Pia moaned when he moved his hand over to her breasts, circling his thumb around a sensitive nipple.

“I’ll touch you here.” Zoran caressed the other breast in his palm, taking his time.

She kept her eyes closed.

“And I’ll most definitely,” he continued, trailing his hand once again to her thighs, “be touching you here.”

As Zoran said the word “here”, he let his finger slip into her moistened folds. Pia’s hips jerked. Inside he groaned with satisfaction, outside he kept his voice calm. It wouldn’t do for this wild mare to buck him off quite yet. He had every intention of taming her.

“Zoran,” she whispered as his stroke deepened.

He took the sound into him, relishing it.

“Do you understand what I have told you?” Zoran’s voice left no doubt that he was in control of their situation and that he was in control of her. He stroked a little deeper, staying on the outer rim of her sex. Her hips tentatively moved against him.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes, what?” he insisted, not wanting to mistake her pleasure for an honest answer.

“Yes, I understand.” She moaned loudly, biting her lip.

Zoran’s cock begged for freedom. Pia’s sex convulsed tightly around him. The warrior in him couldn’t resist as he explored her, probing deep. She was so snug, as if it had been a long time since she’d been with a man.

“Take the fur from my hips,” Zoran instructed her. Again he stroked her, dipping ever so slightly deeper inside her moist pussy. “Look at me, Pia. Look at your husband. I want you to touch me, feel me.”

Pia pulled the fur loincloth. It fell to the side. She hesitated, her hand stopping near his stomach.

“Touch me,” Zoran demanded, needing more than anything to feel her hands on him. He closed his eyes so she couldn’t see the golden evidence of his dragon-shift coloring his gaze. He growled. “Lower.”

Pia dipped her hand lower.

“Lower,” he insisted. “Take me in your hand.”

Her hand journeyed down at the heated request. He tensed in anticipation. When her hand bumped the tip of his hot erection, she jerked back in surprise.

“Argh,” Zoran growled. Removing his hand from her, he guided her fingers to wrap him. All the time he continued to ply kisses to her face. “Just like that. Oh yeah, just like that.”

Zoran resumed stroking her and his mind became numb to everything but release. He slid his finger inside her.

“You’re so tight,” he said. “Have you been with a man?”

Pia innocently shook her head, evidently past the point of lying or caring.

The admission was more than he could take. The conqueror in him needed to lay claim to her. The sweet smell of her, the taste of her mouth, it was all blessed insanity. Maybe she’d been right, maybe he was insane. He didn’t care.

Before Zoran could stop himself, he was above her, opening her thighs, poising to drive into her. A moan escaped her followed by a ragged pant. She wanted him. She wanted his touch. He knew she did.

Zoran brought himself to her, felt her moist fire calling to him. Suddenly, he got a hard jolt to his chest. The crystal was fading fast. He looked at Pia’s face.

Pia’s wide eyes stared at him. Her chest heaved. She’d felt the sensation, too.

With a grimace, Zoran pulled away from her. He couldn’t take her. Not tonight. The crystal’s strange reaction had to be a sign. If he took her, the council elders would know. She would be sent away and he would have to live out his many years all alone.

Pia’s body was poised, open to him.

“I can’t.” Zoran was nearly mindless with the agony of his body’s denial. “Not yet.”

“It’s fine,” she said softly. “I know.”

She rolled away from him, giving him her back.

Zoran took the fur and put it tenderly over her shoulders. His hand actually trembled as he drew it away. The sight of her naked back was pure torture.

Pia curled into a humiliated ball. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t force himself to have sex with her. Silent tears poured bitterly down her cheeks but she held perfectly still.

She understood perfectly what was happening. He’d given it a valiant effort, but could she really blame him? Even as she hurt, she forgave him. She knew what she was. She wasn’t pretty. She wasn’t anything. She felt Zoran wasn’t a mean man, she saw it in the tender way he’d looked at her. He’d tried. She would give him that.

Pia took a deep breath, knowing he couldn’t look at her anymore. She lay quietly for a long time, barely drawing breath as she tried not to move. Even when she finally felt his even breathing, Pia didn’t turn around to look at him. She was unable to sleep throughout the long night. Her body ached too badly. Never had being ugly hurt so much. Her tears were silent and she sucked them inside, burying her pain. Even in his sleep, Zoran didn’t touch her again.

Chapter 9

Morning came slow to the planet of Qurilixen and Pia was awake to watch the sunlight as it crept under the tent flap. Slowly, she stretched her arms, pushing quietly upright as she suppressed a yawn.

Her tired eyes glanced over Zoran and she felt a little resentful at him for the ache in her loins that wouldn’t go away. Taking the fur coverlet with her, she walked over to the table. Her stomach churned with hunger and she picked out a couple pieces of fruit and ate them. Eyeing the feast, she wished there was something else besides chocolate and cream sauce and, lest she forget, the disgusting wine.

Suddenly, she heard a quiet shuffling at the door. Her arms stiffened. Was this it? Were his friends coming after all to have their peek at her? She swallowed, angrily crossing over to the tent flap.

The servant on the other side jolted in surprise to see her irritated face. Pia forced her expression to go blank as the young man recoiled from her.

“My lady,” he mumbled to Pia with an awkward bow. “Your clothes for the ceremony today. King Llyr and Queen Mede request your presence.”

“Ah, thanks,” she answered, taking the bundle from him. The man bowed his head, but scurried away from her. Pia glanced down at the black and red clothing she’d been given. The dark material was of a fine quality with red stitching that suspiciously matched the tent walls.

Frowning, she carried them inside. Zoran still slept, so she went back to the table and laid the clothes out on a cushion seat. She found a tunic shirt and breeches, obviously made to fit Zoran. There was a pair of leather boots in the stack, also his. On his tunic shirt, a red dragon was embroidered with fine hand-stitching.

The second outfit was a long dress. Pia frowned. If she was going to stay, it was time for their little custom of women in dresses to change. The gown was finely made, but very heavy. The black material would fit tightly to her body. Red trim parted the front to show more red beneath the split in the floor length skirt, and a red dragon was embroidered on the center of the chest to match his. There was also a hairpiece. Looking at its ribbons and straps, Pia frowned. She had no way of knowing how to work such a contraption.

Eyeing Zoran, she grinned. The servant handed her the clothes, so it was only right she got first pick. Dropping the fur around her ankles, she slipped his tunic shirt over her head. It was fairly large, but with a roll of the sleeves, it worked just fine. Next, she pulled on his breeches and tucked the waist, before making herself a belt out of the hair piece. She rolled the legs up and smiled. There, much better than a dress. His boots were too large so she decided to go barefoot.

Now, didn’t the servant say something about her presence being requested by royalty? Oh, that’s right. She had to go before them with Zoran to proclaim her marriage. The imaginary gremlin on her shoulder did a little jig of mischievous pleasure.

Going over to Zoran, she kneeled down and touched his shoulder to shake him awake. He was so commanding, everything about him whispering of power and strength. Pia had never been a woman who could be easily controlled, but this warrior had done something to her the evening before. She didn’t like it. She wanted her control back.

“Zoran,” she said softly, waking him.

Her imaginary gremlin giggled.

Instantly, Zoran’s eyes were open. Seeing her face leaning over him, surrounded by the waves of her blonde hair, he smiled.

“The king and queen wish to see us. I’ll be right outside.” Pia stood before he could react and was out of the tent.

Zoran sat up, scratching his stomach. He’d spent the night dreaming of family. He wanted children desperately, many fine warrior sons that would make both parents proud. The evening before he had decided not to press the issue of children with his wife, as there would be plenty of time for that, but apparently his dreams had not let the matter go so easily.

What did matter was that his life had transferred into her, connecting them. Maybe not completely, but it was a start. Soon their souls would join and he would be able to feel her as if she were his own heart beating inside his chest. And they would be able to telepathically speak to each other, even over long distances. Such was the way for dragon-shifters. His life was now hers. It really was that simple.

He absently grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes on the bed next him. Blinking as tried to pull it on, he realized it wasn’t a shirt at all, but Pia’s dress. He frowned to discover his boots on the floor and none of his other clothing.

He was wrong. There was nothing simple about the woman he’d married.

“Pia,” he called, keeping his fur loincloth on as he crossed to the tent’s opening. His little bride was nowhere to be seen. By all the gods! “Pia!”

Pia smiled and kept walking as Zoran yelled her name. A light bounce entered her steps. Heading toward the campgrounds, she ignored the other tents. Soon, she was where the giant bonfires had burned so brightly the night before. The flames were low, almost out.

Grinning like she didn’t have a care in the world, she ignored the stares she received. Somehow the adverse attention was comfortingly familiar to her. She was at ease under the obvious scrutiny and judgment.

Pia found the platform in the front of the crowd. Councilmen stood to the side of the royal couple, who were seated in the middle. King Llyr and Queen Mede’s crowned heads shone pleasantly. They were dressed in matching purple tunics.

Noticing her attention, the king stopped in mid-sentence and bowed his head regally at her. His eyes clouded in confusion as he took in her attire. Soon all the council was staring at her too. Pia slowly stepped up the stairs and bowed while tugging up the waist of her oversized breeches. Her bare feet poked out and she tapped her toes absently on the wooden planks.

“Where is Zoran?” the queen asked, after taking in the woman’s masculine attire.

Pia smiled and gave an impish shrug. Her voice clear, she said, “In bed. I guess he overslept.”

The crowd laughed. The king muttered, sounding discontent. The queen stiffened, her brow knitting ever so slightly in worry.

Pia’s smile wavered at the sound of amusement. She expected to be amusing at best, but the sound of the crowd’s laughter was becoming mocking. She glanced behind her at them and then back to the king and queen. The crowd grew quieter, edging closer to hear anything she might say. “I was told I was to come and—”

“There he is!” someone shouted behind her.

Pia closed her eyes, suppressing the grin that tried to spread over her features. She wondered if he wore the dress. When she had control over her expression, she turned to see. He still wore the loincloth. His armband sparkled in the sunlight to contrast his tanned flesh.

“Excuse me,” Zoran announced, giving a quick wave to the crowd. They cheered him like he was a hero, even as their laughter turned to good humor. He stepped up arrogantly to join his naughty wife. He eyed his tunic on her.

“We will be back to report in a moment,” Zoran announced. The crowd laughed louder, enjoying the great comedy of the morning event. The king’s eyebrows shot up in question and Zoran gestured dismissively. King Llyr looked at his wife. Queen Mede’s eyes widened and she tossed her hand. She shook her head, as if at a loss for words.

Zoran gave his wife a bemused look. Then, with a decisive grunt, he leaned over, picked her up off the ground and threw her over his shoulder. Pia yelped, her shout of displeasure causing the members of the crowd to fall over each other with laughter. The sound of merriment grew by leaps and bounds until all teasing was lost in a sea of gasping breaths and sharp sighs.

Zoran didn’t say a thing as he carried her back to his tent. Through the tunic, she felt the press of his shoulder to her stomach. If he turned his head, he could take a playful bite of her tender hip.

Before Pia knew what he intended to do, he dropped her to the ground and stripped the tunic off of her in one swift movement. His eyes gleamed as he looked at her naked breasts. Pia frowned, turning to hide them from him. Zoran instantly pulled the loose breeches from her hips to bare her backside.

Pia gasped in outrage. She would’ve run, but he pulled her to him, causing her to tremble and weaken. He was naked and pressed intimately against her backside. The hard length of his morning arousal burned into her flesh.

“I’ll have to punish you publicly for that stunt, wife,” he said darkly into her ear before biting the tip. She shivered anew. His nearness stirred and heated her blood. “It’s a matter of honor.”

“Do and I won’t finish the ceremony,” she swore, hardening her tone to hide her body’s reaction to him.

“Oh, you’ll finish it wife,” he promised, bending his knees and nestling his arousal into the cheeks of her ass. “Then, we’re going back to my home and we’re finishing what we started last night.”

“I would rather die.” She was frightened by the strength in him. Pia had seen his anger, barely constrained beneath his simmering surface. “I’m not going back out there with you and I’m not putting on that dress. I hate dresses. I want my own clothes.”

“Either you put that dress on, or so help me I’ll drag you out there naked,” he swore. Zoran set her away from him. Despite his affectionate caresses, he was clearly furious.

When Pia peeked over at him, his face was red with contained anger. She shivered and hurriedly put on the dress. Zoran took the tunic for himself.

“Come,” Zoran ordered, as he tugged on his last boot.

“No.” Pia was outraged, too, as she thought of what public humiliation he might plan. Suddenly, she saw that thin ties were in his hands. “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”

Zoran leapt, pouncing on her as he tackled her to the bed amidst her cries of protest. Within seconds, he had her bound and gagged. She cursed him, a muffled sound full of fire and vinegar. He ignored her, smiling down at her with a terribly aggravating sweetness.

“You must be punished,” he said by way of an explanation. “I’ll not have my reputation destroyed because you hate dresses. I’ll not be humiliated by my wife.”

Zoran eyed his handiwork, but didn’t feel pleasure in it. Pia wore the gown he’d ordered for her, a gag, and ties around her wrists and ankles. He hated the necessity of his actions and knew this was not the best way to privately start their marriage. However, publically, it was what needed to be done. He couldn’t have her threatening not to finish the ceremony, or pulling any more stunts that would question his honor and his manhood.

Pia glared insolently at him. As she stood before him, she looked positively miserable in the gown and black dress slippers. Her jealous eyes had looked at his boots in longing. After today he would buy her a thousand pairs if it made her happy. Though, he doubted boots would make up for what he was about to do.

Zoran lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder before carting her back out of the tent. Pia tried to kick and jerk free. Zoran was glad he’d gagged her, for her words were heated as she muffled curses at him. Her arm hit into his temple, trying to strike him any way she could. He leaned his head to the side, away from her wrath.

It appeared as if no one had moved away from the platform in his absence, as the crowd waited for Prince Zoran to return with his bride. He knew they would be most anxious to see what he would do to her, and they were not disappointed. A tittering laughter resumed amongst them.

Zoran came through their depths carrying his bride. A smile shone widely on his face, a joy he did not feel deep inside. He waved politely to acknowledge the crowd before turning around to wink at his mother. She shook her head in maternal disapproval. The king chuckled despite himself, causing the queen to turn her look on him. Zoran took the stairs as if his burden were no heavier than a leaf.

With a measured toss, he set his wife on her feet before the watching Draig. Her hair bounced and flew around her head. Pia glared at the crowd. They laughed and pointed at her.

“Queen Mede. King Llyr. May I present Lady Pia of the Earthen people,” Zoran introduced loudly, twirling her around to face them. To the crowd’s growing merriment, Pia tried to bounce away across the platform. Zoran grabbed one of her ties to keep her still. Her body jerked to a stop and she growled.

The queen waved her hand regally for him to proceed.

Slowly, Zoran reined his bride back to his side, twirling the tie in one hand. Pia growled and shot daggers at him with her eyes. He winked back at her causing a long, muffled string of curses to be thrown at his head.

“Allow me to help you,” he murmured gallantly to Pia.

Zoran smiled as he took the crystal from his neck and dropped it on the ground. Then, lifting his angry bride up, he brought her tied feet down on top of it and forced her to smash it. She swayed as the stone broke and the fog of the crystal was lifted from her mind. She stumbled to the side with a little hop. Zoran steadied her.

The queen looked at the king, who just shrugged his shoulders and motioned for her to continue.

“Welcome to the family of Draig, Lady Pia. I hope you will enjoy your new home,” the queen said, her voice not as strong as it usually was.

Pia nodded at her before blinking rapidly. She swayed on her feet.

“She says thank you, queen,” Zoran said. “Now, if you would excuse us?”

With a weak moan, Pia blacked out. Zoran caught her in his arms and held her.

“Certainly,” Queen Mede said, still shaking her head at her wayward son.

With little effort, Zoran carried his bride from the platform. Her eyes were closed and her bound wrists bounced limply on her chest as he walked. He nodded to the crowd. They nodded back, smiling at their leader and his audaciousness. He continued away from the tents to the front gate of the mountain palace and didn’t stop until he reached his wing of the castle home.

Queen Mede looked at her husband, using her thoughts to communicate with him so none of their people could hear them. “You need to speak to your son when this is over.”

The king chuckled and answered in kind. “I will tell him we are pleased with him.”

“The gag wasn’t necessary,” the queen debated. Out of all her boys, Zoran was the most stubborn. But he also had a lot to prove. Being the leader of the soldiers, he couldn’t have his honor or his position called into question—especially not by a woman. When Pia stole his clothing and indicated he was lazy and sleeping in, she’d insulted him. It wasn’t a great insult, but it was enough to demand action be taken.

“Perhaps he didn’t want to give her leave to speak. Wives can be very—” The king stopped talking, and looked guiltily at his wife. Aloud, so all could hear, he said, “You are very beautiful today, my love.”

“And you are very lucky today, my love,” she thought in his direction. Her eyes flashed golden, threatening a shift. She was the only female born Draig on the planet, and as a dragon-shifter, her temper could rise just as fiery as the men of her kind—if not more so. “For today I get daughters and am inclined to pretend you didn’t speak.”

Chapter 10

Pia’s eyes popped open, her fists automatically balling in outrage. She swung at the air, causing a great laugh to echo over the bedroom. Her chest heaved with her unspent anger, as she pushed herself up on the soft mattress. Her hands were no longer tied and the gag was out of her mouth.

“Where...?” she began, glancing around the bedroom to gauge her surroundings.

There were white, paper thin sliding doors with decorative wooden boxes over the sides. The room looked heavily influenced by the Lintianese style. Light shone through from the other room. The bed was low to the ground, covered in fur. There were potted plants on either side of a long dresser. Through a cracked sliding door to her side, Pia saw a walk-in closet. A large dome overhead let the sunlight in, though it was tinted to give the room a soft, comfortable haze. Two swords hung on the wall as decoration, dragons emblazoned on the hilts.

On the bed was a black dragon-head emblem on a sea of deep red material. Its color was as dark as blood. The fierce creature stared at her for a moment. She shivered. Then, hearing the laughter lessen to a chuckle, she turned.

Her eyes met with a gaze she didn’t readily recognize. The woman’s movements followed her startled ones. It was her reflection staring back at her through a circular mirror atop the dresser. She touched her cheek to remind herself that the image was really her new face.

“You’re in our home,” came the belated answer to her question.

Zoran clearly had been watching her confusion as she awoke. At the sound of his voice, her eyes narrowed in on him and she tried to jump up. The gown tangled her feet and she fell back on the bed, kicking and fighting the long skirt as she tried to be free of it.

“It’s only a dress, Pia,” Zoran said wryly. “It’s not attacking you.”

“As soon...as I get...out...of...this,” she threatened, fighting all the harder. With a huff, she finally managed to work her way off the bed. Her chest heaving, she opened her mouth to finish. He held up his hands to stop her.

“I know, you will behead me, skewer me...yeah, yeah, yeah.” Zoran yawned.

“You keep it up,” she warned, her voice rising.

“So much talk, so little action.” He shook his head.

“Ah,” Pia gasped in open-mouthed outrage. Instantly, she lunged at him. The skirt tangled around her feet and she tripped. Zoran caught her up in his embrace, subduing her easily.

“Sweet Pia, you didn’t need an excuse to fall into my arms. I’ll open them willingly for you,” Zoran murmured annoyingly in her hair. He received the response he expected. She tried to punch him. He dodged her shaky blow.

“I’d tear your arms from you before I’d fall into them,” Pia said, trying to kick. To her satisfaction, she hit his shin and he frowned, letting her go. She stumbled away from him, out of breath. “I want to call the royal council. It’s my right to do so.”

Zoran froze. His jaw tightened, as he inquired, “On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you forced me to marry you,” she said, a smile spreading over her face. She swiped at her nose, regaining some of her composure as she sniffed. “I did my research before coming here. You can’t force a bride to choose you. It has to be her free will. It wasn’t my free will. I told you no and you forced me to take off your mask. When I told you to put it back on, you burned it.”

His face turned red. He said nothing.

“And then, this morning,” she lied. “I was going to go tell the council that I didn’t choose you, but then you kidnapped me...”

His brow rose on his forehead in warning.

“Fine, you apprehended me, tied me up, and forced me to stomp on the crystal. I would say I have a pretty strong case and plenty of witnesses. I want to speak to the royal council. Now.”

A bitter look lined Zoran’s face as he took a menacing step toward her. “Did you happen to research, wife, that the royal council is particularly busy this time of year with important matters of this kingdom? Did you also happen to discover that marriage disputes can only be claimed after a full year of marriage has been achieved, and when the bride can prove that nothing of a sexual nature happened between the married couple for that full year? Furthermore, a decision usually takes another year to be reached, considering the royal council will not always agree, and the dissolution of a marriage is a very serious matter to the Draig people. So I would say, you have at least two years as my wife, and that’s only if I don’t contest the divorce. And I’ll contest. Believe me, wife, you’re stuck whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t care if it takes five years. I’m not staying married to you.”

“I felt how you melted in my arms, Pia,” Zoran said in a tone that sent chills over her spine. He came closer. His brown eyes held hers. His knuckles stroked her face. “Do you think you could resist me every night for five years and never succumb?”

Pia shivered. To her shame, she didn’t move away from him. Already a fire blazed from his touch and she knew she couldn’t—not if he looked at her like that. She’d relent in less than a week.

“I’ll get my own place. I’ll find a job and support myself. I won’t even see you.”

“What job?” Zoran asked with an amused smile. She didn’t trust the look. His eyes were hard and angry.

“I’ll join your military,” Pia announced, pleased with herself until she saw his expression. He stayed his hand on her cheek, not moving and yet not leaving her soft skin. “Soldiers usually get free room and board.”

Zoran grinned and his eyes lightened. However, he didn’t let her in on the joke, as he said, “Women are rarely allowed to fight in the military—especially wives. Only widows can join.”

Her eyes rounded, as if to say, that could be arranged.

“Don’t even think it,” he said, his hand fisting next to her cheek. “I would snap your neck in an instant if you so much as tried.”

Pia backed down, finally managing to get the strength to pull away from his disarmingly gentle fingers. She scowled. “Then I’ll pray to every one of your gods for your death in battle.”

Zoran sprang forward with a rage that took Pia completely off guard. His eyes glowed with a fire all their own, as he gripped her shoulders. His nails dug into her flesh and she wheezed in fear despite herself.

“If you ever say anything like that again, wife, I’ll punish you. So help me, I might get transferred to guard duty in the lowest of underground prisons where I’ll never again see the light of day, but I’ll not put up with your blasphemous tongue.” Zoran shook her before tossing her away from him. With an angry growl, he strode out of the bedroom. Slamming the thin door, he said, “I’m going to work.”

Pia shivered watching him leave. It didn’t take long before she heard the slide of a heavier door. Her knees weakened in fear. She’d seen the devil in that handsome gaze of his and, so help her, she liked it.

Zoran was torn. He loved his wife’s fire and passion and strength. It was a good complement to his title as a warrior leader. It would serve his honor well to have a fiery woman at his side—so long as he could tame her.

Had she really threatened to end their marriage? Surely she was just angry with him. Once she cooled all would be well? Right?

Right?

His inner voice did not answer him.

He paced down the hall to get away from her so he had time to collect his temper. Maybe he should let her join the military. Then she would be even more under his command.

No. Even as he thought it, he knew that would be a mistake. A wife disobeying him in private was bad enough. A wife-soldier refusing to follow orders would be like begging the gods to dishonor him.

Chapter 11

Zoran’s home was a splendid exercise in simplicity. The bedroom Pia woke up in was off the front hall. The doors separating the rooms on one level were paper thin and had no locks on them. They slid soundlessly with a single push of the finger.

The walls were wooden planks of straight lines. A floor of matching wood was placed together in an intricate pattern of long cut strips. In the center of the pattern, in the front hall, was fashioned the impression a giant dragon. The dragon guarded a heavy oak door that Pia couldn’t open.

From the front hall, a single step down was the only room divider. She came to an open living room with a marble fireplace. There were straight lines carved into the plain surface and another dragon head in the center, above the fireplace. A step back up took her to a dining room, complete with low table and cushioned floor seats. A bowl with a single ball inside it decorated the middle as a centerpiece.

A tapestry hung on the far wall, just behind the table. It was red with the depiction of a black forest. If she had to venture a guess, she would say it was the forest she’d seen at the festival. In the middle was a noble phoenix.

“I’m surprised it’s not another dragon,” she mused wryly, moving on.

The kitchen was much the same—plain and of wood. The cabinets were miniature copies of the doors, sliding to the side instead of swinging open. Pia laughed seeing a dragon inlaid on the countertop.

As she crossed back into the dining room she noticed that a chandelier hung beneath a giant dome. The crystal shards reflected the light, brightening the room. A thick curtain was affixed to the dome.

Finding another door, Pia slid it open. It was a bathroom with a natural hot spring bubbling in the side, made from the red stone of the planet’s surface. A wooden sauna was next to it, a pull switch for steam on the side. On the opposite wall was a shower stall, with a wooden half-door and bench seats made of red stone. There was also a vanity, a sink, a toilet, sliding cabinet drawers, and a top dome of smaller proportions.

Next to the bathroom, Pia was amazed to discover an exercise area. It was a long, flat floor with a higher ceiling. Weapons hung on the wall for ease of use. Arranged on the floor was a punching bag, a wooden pegged contraption, with many arms fashioned into spikes, a post with gouges taken from it with a sword, and a mat rolled into the corner. Pia shivered in excitement.

“This room alone would be worth staying married for,” she said to herself. Almost reluctantly, she turned around and forced her legs to move away. She still had the dress on and couldn’t possibly exercise in the heavy skirt.

Getting an idea, she went back to the bedroom and began rummaging through the closet. She smiled, seeing her bags on the floor. She wouldn’t have to steal Zoran’s clothes after all. In no time, she was in a pair of comfortable charcoal pants, a navy shirt and light boots. Going to the fireplace, she tossed the dress on top of the wood and left it. She would’ve started a fire, but she couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

Dusting her hands, she nodded in satisfaction. Her stomach growled, reminding her she was hungry.

“First I eat,” she said absently to herself, making her way back to the kitchen. A great big smile came to her face as she thought of aggravating Zoran. “Then I find scissors and do something about this mess of hair.”

Zoran spent the first day of his marriage training the soldiers in swamp warfare. It was a grueling affair as the swamp mud was hard to walk in without shifting into Draig form. Many of the men were stupefied by the surprise workout. Though Prince Zoran was known for springing a training drill at any hour of the day or night, they hadn’t expected him to show up on the first day of his marriage.

Many of them had celebrated late the night before, believing that on this day of all days, it would be safe to sleep in. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Zoran worked them to the bone, pushing them, yelling them into action until their bodies could take no more, and they literally crawled their way back to the barracks that evening.

Zoran smiled grimly at the irritable men. His crossed arms were splattered with muck, though not as bad as the soldiers were. “I warned you when you began this training to be prepared for anything.”

The men grumbled as they stopped in their departure to look at him. There was respect in their tired eyes. They knew Prince Zoran was the greatest warrior amongst them and, after today, his dedication would never be questioned.

“As a warrior, you can never be caught off guard. You can never slack in your duty. If you do,” Zoran stopped and pointed down the valley where the quiet village lay. Lowering his voice to a deadly growl of warning, he let his eyes shift yellow. “If you do, they die.”

The men nodded in serious understanding.

“Now go eat,” he hollered, uncrossing his arms and jumping down from his post. “You did yourselves proud today.”

With his gruff praise, their exhausted shoulders rode a little higher. Zoran made his way wearily back to the castle’s front gate. The guard saluted him as he passed and Zoran motioned dutifully back.

His body was covered in drying sweat. He’d worked himself the hardest of all. Every muscle in his back ached. But it had been worth it, if for only a brief moment of peace. Pia never strayed far from his thoughts, though as a trained warrior, he didn’t let her distract him from his obligations to the men he commanded.

Now that the drills were over, he frowned. The closer he stepped to his home, the more his anger renewed itself inside him. Oh, but she was an aggravating wench. One minute he wanted to kiss her in rough mind-altering passion, the next he wanted to strangle every last breath from her beautifully formed body. He wanted to tie her up and drown her in Crystal Lake. By all that was sacred, he wanted to tie her up and throw her onto his bed to drown her in passion.

That thought in mind, he quickened his pace. The oak door to his home slid up with a stern voice command. Stepping inside, he felt it shut automatically behind him. Stopping, he sniffed the air, looking around. All was deadly still. He took a step forward.

“Pia?” he called softly, listening for her to stir. There was no answer. He stepped forward, frowning to see the gown he’d bought her in the barren fireplace.

“Uh,” he heard her voice groan. “Got it.”

He frowned. She was in the bathroom. Stepping up to the door, he took a single finger and pushed it open. His eyes rounded in a mix of horror and utter disbelief. He had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Pia jumped at the sound of the door. Lowering her hands from her hair, she pointed the knife at him and darkly asked, “You ever hear of knocking?”

“What are you doing to your hair?” Zoran demanded, unable to take his eyes away. Half of Pia’s locks were still firmly attached to her head. The other half was sprinkled over the sink and floor in long discarded curls.

“Do you mind?” she asked. She grinned, lifting the knife to her longer side. “I was in here first and I could use a little privacy. If I mess this up, I’ll have to cut it shorter to get it even.”

“Why?” he breathed through his shock. Her hair had been the crowning glory to her wonderful features. Any woman in the kingdom would’ve given their freedom for her golden locks and here she was hacking them off. “Why do you disobey me? I told you not to cut it.”

Pia just laughed and continued to slice and saw at her hair.

Willfully, and to his dismay, she grabbed a thick chunk and sliced through it, cutting it off at about chin length. Then, lifting her handful of severed tresses, she wiggled the mass insolently through her fingers, sprinkling them before him like falling leaves.

“Why would you purposefully disfigure yourself?” Zoran asked in despair. “Do you seek to humiliate me?”

That made Pia mad. She lowered her hands to the countertop. “Humiliate you? My hair has nothing to do with you.”

“Everything you do has something to do with me. I’m your husband. Our honors are inner-linked. Only women who are shamed cut their hair,” Zoran said. He swallowed, again looking at the floor in disbelief. All that spun gold lay around their feet. He had the strange urge to gather it up and glue it back to her head.

Pia lifted her hand and defiantly took off the last chunk with a heavy whack of his knife, which she’d taken off the wall in the exercise room. Zoran flinched. Pia made a show of examining the evenness of the new length and continued speaking, unhampered by his darkening features.

She shrugged. “Well, I would say it’s very fitting then. For I find I’m very ashamed to be married to you. Maybe you should divorce me before I humiliate you any further.” She gripped the last of her hair and tossed it at him. “But if you want it so badly, here. I give it to you.”

“Argh,” Zoran growled, brushing the soft strands from his arms. He turned to storm away, before suddenly whirling around to face her. Angrily, he held out his hand. “My knife, wife.”

Pia glanced down at her fingers. Then, slowly, as if it was no big deal and he was overreacting, she turned the hilt and placed it in his hand. Zoran’s fingers gripped around the blade and he jerked it back from her.

Pia followed him as he stormed out of the bathroom. “Don’t you think you are overreacting just a little bit? Really, Zoran. It’s just hair. It grows back.”

Zoran again saw his gift to her in the fireplace. He swallowed, too angry to face her.

“Zoran?”

“If you wish to insult me and throw my gifts back at me, wife,” Zoran said. “Do it right.”

He turned to her. Pia stiffened at his hard look. Zoran studied her face. No matter what she did to herself, she would never be able to hide her beauty from him. It was in her hazel eyes, her steady gaze. It was in the fiery way she challenged him with words and her luscious body. He wanted her even more, now that she continued to defy him. It was strange that his passions could be ignited to such scorching depths by her disobedience and blatant insubordination.

He shouted, “Fire!”

Pia jerked at the sudden sound, gasping. She wished she hadn’t tossed the dress aside like she had. She almost went to retrieve it when his command for fire stopped her. The fireplace lit and the beautiful gown went up in flames.

His eyes roamed over her short hair in what she took as a look of disgust. It would seem her hair was the only thing he had found pleasing about her. If she hadn’t been sure about her new haircut before, she was now. Still amazed, and unsure how it happened, she thought of how handsome her husband was. The sooner he agreed to let her out of their marriage, the better it would be for the both of them.

Zoran turned his back on her, as he headed toward the bedroom. “I’m taking a bath and going to bed. I have to get up early tomorrow to go to work.”

“But, you just got off a work shift.”

Zoran glanced over his shoulder. “I should think you would be pleased to be rid of me.”

He disappeared into the bedroom.

“I am,” she yelled belatedly.

Zoran came back out holding a robe in one hand and a blanket and pillow in the other. Pushing the blanket and pillow at her with barely a glance, he said, “If you have no wish to share my bed, then you will find somewhere else to sleep. Might I suggest the couch? The fire seems to be burning quite brightly as of now.”

He went into the bathroom and shut the door. Seconds later, she was still standing there as she heard him step into the natural hot spring. A loud moan escaped him and she would’ve sworn he did it just to irritate her.

Looking at the couch before the marble fireplace, she threw the pillow angrily onto its cushioned red depths. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down. A pout formed on her face without her realizing it, as she stared at the burning gown, watching the last of the red dragon disappear into ash.

Her little, naughty, naughty gremlin nodded its head in approval. She had done the right thing in irritating him.

Then why did she not feel good about it?

Chapter 12

Zoran was up with the dawn. His wife had spent the entire night on the couch. Although he wasn’t surprised, he was disappointed, as was his body that dreamed of her defiantly naked form in a myriad of different, lecherous ways.

“Faster!” Zoran yelled, ordering the men through the waist deep swamp mud. He’d decided that one day of grueling exercise wasn’t enough to purge him. Lifting his sword arm high into the air, he motioned to the side. Instantly, the men ducked down and began crawling through the muck. It was slow going in this part of the swamplands. The mud weighed their human forms down and kept them from moving with precise speed.

“Attack position!” Zoran commanded.

The men hollered, shooting up from the swamp. Muck flew everywhere as their dirty swords lifted high in the air.

“Attack!” he shouted with a growl.

Zoran watched as the warriors plunged forward as fast as they could. The target, a battalion Zoran had ordered to remain hidden within the trees, suddenly emerged to fight the muddy swarm. Metal clanged against metal as the heavily muddied hoard fought the outnumbered men.

Zoran hung back, watching the outcome of the fight. He crossed his arms over his chest, picking out the victors of the battle. The victors would be released early. The losers would have to spend three extra hours with him doing swamp drills.

Zoran thought of Pia and frowned. Maybe he’d better make it five extra hours.

“Ugh!” Pia gasped, eyeing Zoran as he came in. He was covered in a grayish-brown muck and stunk worse than a trolloch. She wrinkled her nose.

Zoran said nothing as he slipped out of his boots and left them by the door.

“What do they have you guarding anyway? A sewer?” she asked, waving her hand in his general direction as if it could keep the smell at bay.

“I spent the day in the swamps,” Zoran said, rolling his neck.

“Oh.” Pia wished he would elaborate. She’d just spent the entire day trapped in his house with nothing to do. She’d done a freestyle workout, taken a bath, and ate some leftover tiny pellet looking stuff from the refrigerator. That had used up about three of the twelve hours since she woke up.

Zoran eyed her. She’d pulled her hair back into a small ponytail at the nape of her neck and the sides fell forward to frame her face. As he studied her, she self-consciously tucked the sides behind her ears.

“I ate the grainy stuff in the refrigerator,” she said at last, when he didn’t look away.

“Fine,” he grunted, heading barefoot toward the bathroom to clean up.

Pia gasped, seeing his arm. It was bleeding. Looking for any kind of adventure, even a second hand one, she jumped over the back of the couch and went to him. “Did something happen? Was there an attack?”

“Just an accident,” Zoran said, as if wondering at her sudden concern. He couldn’t miss the light of excitement in her gaze when she asked it. She eyed his blood with almost a longing.

“What happened? Was anyone hurt?”

“No,” he answered.

“Oh.” Pia bit her lip. Suddenly, she realized she was standing close to him and he really did reek like putrid swamp. She took a step back. “Maybe you should take a shower.”

“I had planned on it,” Zoran chuckled, despite his obvious mood. As if he couldn’t help teasing, he added, “Is your inquisition over then, my bloodthirsty wife?”

Pia frowned. “Well, what do you expect? You trapped me in this house all day with nothing to do. That,” she pointed at the front door, “contraption won’t let me pass no matter how many different languages I yell at it.”

“That’s because it’s not programmed to your voice,” Zoran answered.

“Obviously,” she said, crossing her hands over her chest.

The motion pushed up her breasts and Zoran, being a healthy man of recently denied passions, looked unabashedly at them. Seeing his heated gaze, she screamed and automatically moved to slap him.

Zoran caught her hand in his muddied grip. Her wrist slid along his palm. His eyes lit with promise.

Pia tried to slap him with her other hand. He caught that one too.

“Come bathe with me,” Zoran invited. His tone dipped as he made a show of ogling her breasts. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

“I already had a bath,” Pia said, wishing her voice was more forceful. “I don’t need another.”

At that, Zoran smiled. Pulling her forward into his arms, he crushed himself to her cotton pants and white shirt. Mud plastered their clothing together as if they wore nothing at all. Pia shrieked in dismay. Her eyes narrowed angrily.

“You need one now,” Zoran said, leaning down to catch her lips with his. She turned her head and he hit her cheek with his mouth. He pulled back disappointed. “One kiss, wife, and I promise to let you go.”

“Let me go and I promise not to beat the ever-living sh—” Pia’s gaze shot daggers, but her words were cut off with his swift mouth. He pressed his lips firmly to hers in a dry kiss. She froze, wide-eyed, not knowing what to do. As suddenly as he began the kiss, he ended it with a loud smack of his lips to hers. Zoran let her go, seeming very pleased with himself.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he mocked.

“You’re right,” she answered carefully. She made a great show of looking him over before wrinkling her nose in disgust. “It was nothing at all.”

Zoran’s grin turned sour. “Well, as long as I have no effect on you, you should have no problem helping me out of these clothes.”

Pia saw the challenge. He was daring her to run away in fear. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“No problem at all,” she tossed back lightly, turning to walk into the bathroom first. “It’s not like looking at you would do anything to me anyway.”

“Oh,” he said, following her. “Then you wouldn’t mind helping me wash up, would you? I couldn’t tell how deep my cut was. It may need to be bandaged.”

Pia wasn’t so quick to respond.

“No,” she squeaked at last. “No problem at all. It will be like washing the dishes.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he mimicked, his voice dipping ever so slightly.

Pia’s jaw stiffened, as she ground out, “I’ll start the shower.”

“Fine,” Zoran repeated.

“Ah...?” Pia looked at the shower for a handle. There was none. She looked for a spout. There wasn’t one of those either.

“Here,” Zoran said from behind her. He came close to her back and waved his hand in front of one of the tiles. It read his palm and automatically went to his preference settings.

Pia watched as little doors opened in some of the tiles. Water sprayed out at waist level and at shoulder level. One spout came down from the ceiling and rained softly overhead.

“Would you mind helping me with my shirt?” Zoran asked, his tone sultry.

Pia lifted her jaw. She couldn’t force herself to do it.

“You should get in just like that,” she said. “That way you can rinse most of the smell off your clothes. Besides, that blood looks dry and if I rip the shirt off your arm, it might start bleeding again.”

Zoran smiled, as if knowing she stalled. Stepping into the shower, he let the warm water run over him without shutting the door. He turned around to look at her and placed his hands on either side of the shower. There was enough room for her to join him.

“What about your clothes?” he asked, his accent rolling thick over her. She shivered. He directed a pointed look at her white shirt. It was stained from where he’d touched her with his chest. When she hesitated, he challenged, “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No,” Pia said. She boldly stepped before him into the water.

Leaning forward, he purposefully drew closer to her as he leaned to pull the door shut behind her. Pia jolted at the sound.

How did I get myself into this? she thought, briefly closing her eyes.

“Are you all right?” Zoran asked when she swayed lightly on her feet.

“It’s just this stuff smells awful,” she lied. In truth, it was the way the water made his clothing cling to his muscular flesh that made her nearly swoon. The material adhered to his every muscular curve, lifting and shifting with each breath he took. The large shower didn’t seem so big with him looming close to her. She swallowed nervously.

Scowling at him, she commanded, “Move, let me rinse off.”

Zoran complied, as he sat down on the stone bench in the corner. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pia turned her back to him. She had no idea how the wet material of her pants clung to her backside, outlining every lush curve, or else she’d never have done it. Of course, he was too much of a gentleman to point it out to her. He hid his smirk.

She pulled out her shirt, letting the stream of water beat against it until all the mud was gone, leaving a faint stain. Then turning, she took out her hair and leaned back to get it wet, raising her hands to push the shorter locks from her face.

Zoran tensed. It was clear she had no idea how the thin shirt was displaying her naked chest underneath. The shirt clung to her chest to reveal the shape and muted color of her breasts. When her hands lifted to her head, it pushed her breasts up and out. Her darker nipples shone through the transparent barrier. His fingers twitched. His shaft became achingly erect.

He knew she’d scream if he touched her, but he wondered what she’d do if he touched himself. The water hit upon her flesh. He blinked, his mouth suddenly dry. Her darker nipples were budded against her wet, clinging shirt—hard, erotic. His mouth bit at the air, almost tempted to...

“What are you doing?” Pia demanded. Her wide eyes had found his and she was staring at him like he had just developed boils.

“My jaw hurts,” he lied, reaching up to rub his chin as he flexed. “I was punched.”

“Punched?”

“There’s nothing to tell, so retract your fangs my bloodthirsty ruffian,” Zoran mused. Gently, he added, “Now move so I can rinse off.”

Pia stepped aside. She eyed his sleeve. “Here, try to lift your arm.”

Zoran watched her, as her tone became most businesslike. She worked her hand beneath his sleeve, the fingers gliding over the ridges of his muscles as she lifted the material carefully up from the wound. Zoran thought with wonder that she had an amazingly delicate touch for someone with such a wicked right hook.

“There,” she murmured, pulling it free. “Lift up.”

Zoran lifted his arms, letting her work his tunic off his chest. He tossed it outside the shower stall. She leaned to the side, taking his rigid biceps and moving his arm to the water to rinse it off.

Probing the wound with her fingertip, Pia said more to herself than to him, “It’s not so bad. I’ve had much worse.”

Zoran’s injured arm flexed beneath her hand as he moved to touch her face. His broad shoulders dwarfed her in size.

Pia looked up at him, momentarily surprised by the contact.

Zoran drew his hand down to the bottom of her shirt. His eyes narrowed slightly. He longed to see her, to touch her, to drink the water off her parted lips. Lifting the edge of her shirt, he kept his gaze steady.

Lightly, his fingers spread across her stomach to her side. He found the long, jagged scar puckered by her ribs.

“Like this one?” he asked.

Pia blinked, transfixed by him. Leaning forward, he gently kissed her. He slid his fingers along her long scar, moving up one side of it and down the other.

Zoran’s head angled down, persuading her to fall against the waterspout buried in the tile. Water rushed over her back onto his fingers. His lips were wet as they glided over hers. He opened his mouth wider, trying to consume part of her as he deepened his intent. He dipped his tongue forward, drawing a taste. He moaned into her, letting her hear his desire for her.

Pia trembled. She tried to touch him but held back, too afraid. When he pulled his lips away, she wanted to follow them and urge him on.

Zoran waited for a reaction. She hadn’t really kissed him back, only allowed him to take his taste of her. Her wide eyes stared at him through the thick set of her lashes and he felt her quivering beneath his fingers. He had to remind himself that she was innocent, pure. It wasn’t hard looking down into her hesitant eyes.

Zoran’s body lurched with rough ideas, with bold and fiery longing. However, he couldn’t just back her up into the shower wall and have his way. He had to be gentle. It took a lot of effort to hold back. Warriors weren’t exactly known for their gentleness, and he was one of the best.

“How did this happen?” Zoran asked softly, keeping his forehead drawn close. The water beat a hard, steady rhythm around them.

Pia stiffened, as if remembering herself at the question.

Even though she still stood before him, Zoran could tell she’d pulled away from him mentally. Little droplets of water sprinkled her downturned lashes. Her breath deepened and she edged away. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer looking at him.

“It was a gift,” Pia said, her voice coming out in a quiet whisper. She turned and his hand was forced from her waist. She quietly stepped out of the shower, shutting the door behind her.

Zoran sighed, watching her trail out of the bathroom in her wet clothes. She didn’t look back. The water hit his body as he leaned his forehead against the side. He could still feel her softness under his hands and against his lips. Letting her walk out was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

At moments, when she looked at him, he thought she wanted him. Then, an instant later, it was as if she felt nothing at all. He couldn’t figure her out. All he knew was that she was driving him mad every waking moment, and tormenting him every sleeping one.

He checked the wound on his arm. It was as he’d said. It had been an accident. One of the men lost his footing on a high perch. When Zoran caught him, the man’s knife had nicked his shoulder.

He was weary from the two grueling days, though he was much better off than the men were. He’d have to reward them with a lighter workout tomorrow morning. He should give them a day of rest, but he needed an excuse to leave the house. He couldn’t sit in her presence for a day and not strangle her or kiss her.

“Shower cold,” he mumbled to the shower. The shower instantly sprayed cold water onto his heated body. It didn’t help. “Shower freezing.”

As the cold took effect, his head cleared enough to recall how she relaxed a little when taking care of him. Looking at his wound, he’d dug at it to get the gash to bleed.

Chapter 13

Pia looked at her naked body in the bedroom mirror. Her skin was damp from the shower. Her short hair clung to her face and she pushed it back. She tried her best to be objective, but she didn’t see anything worth looking at.

Closing her eyes, she felt shame. She knew what she looked like. Even before the fire scarred her body, she’d been a gangly child. Now, she was a gangly, ugly woman. How could he even look at her like that? How could he kiss her with such sweetness?

Touching the long scar on her side, her finger traced over the wet path Zoran had made around it. She couldn’t understand why he picked her for marriage. Sure, her skin was improved thanks to the doctors. But now she was back to being the unattractive girl all the boys on her training base home had made fun of. Her face was narrower, but her eyes were the same wide hazel. Her body had filled out, but she was still too muscled and too skinny.

Pia shrugged, having long ago learned to live with her imperfections. Not wanting to get caught naked by Zoran, she hurried to the closet and grabbed some pants and a shirt. Eyeing the bra the doctors had given her, which she was still trying to get used to, she threaded it on under her shirt.

Zoran came into the bedroom, a towel around his naked waist, to the sight of Pia struggling underneath her shirt. A smile lit his face at the scene.

“Do you need rescuing?” Zoran asked with a good-natured laugh. He held the up.

Grumpily, she said, “I’ll...ah...never understand...ugh...the need...oh...for these stupid contraptions...ah, got it.”

With a heavy sigh, she weaved her arm though her sleeves. Registering that he was standing wrapped in the towel, she hurriedly forced her eyes away. “Sorry, I didn’t think that you’d be out so quickly. I’ll get out of here.”

“Actually,” Zoran said in his low spine-tingling voice. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d take a second look at my arm. It started bleeding again.”

“Oh,” Pia said, instantly coming forward to look at it.

“It doesn’t hurt, but I have to work tomorrow—”

“Are your hours always so long or are you covering shifts?” She tried not to sound dejected by the news but she didn’t want to spend another day alone and trapped.

“I work every day.”

“My father was the same way, so it’s perfectly fine. I mean I understand. It’s just...”

“What?” His voice again dipped and her breath caught in her throat.

“You’re too tall, come sit on the bed so I can see what I’m doing,” Pia said, changing the subject.

Zoran nodded and obeyed. He handed her a bandage he’d brought with him. As he sat down, she took an edge of the bandage and tried to wipe the blood from his wound. She was firm but gentle in the task.

Studying the gash, she said, “You got hit with a knife blade, huh?”

Zoran’s brows furrowed at the obviousness of her statement. “Yes.”

“The blade depth isn’t bad, too shallow for a sword unless it was done on purpose with the tip.” Pia bit the corner of her lip, trying to figure it out. “The angle is strange. Was the man taller than you?”

“No,” Zoran said, watching her carefully. She concentrated on the wound.

“I have the answer,” Pia smiled brightly, as she achieved victory. “The man fell, you reached to catch him and his blade nicked you.”

Zoran’s eyes widened in surprise, as he asked, “How did you guess?”

Pia shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just this game we used to play. It’s not hard. You just have to be observant and logic your way backwards. Then you’ll see how it happened.”

“Guessing at knife wounds was a game you used to play?” Zoran watched her face for changes so she made her expression completely blank. “Where exactly did you grow up? In a prison complex?”

Pia stiffened. This conversation was getting too personal and she didn’t want to go there. Her eyes dipped down over him, realizing how intimate the situation had become. He was sitting before her on the bed with only a towel between his naked body and her. She made quick work of wrapping up his arm.

“You shouldn’t have any problems with this,” she said. “I know it might itch, but don’t scratch at it anymore. That’s why it was bleeding.”

Zoran gave her an idle grin.

“There, you’ll be fine.” Pia tied off the end and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Zoran reached out to grab her hand. Pia blinked in surprise, turning around to study him. There was a lot he wanted to say to her. She could see it in his eyes, but he held back. “Is there anything you need? You seemed...concerned that I was going to be working.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” she answered. His brow rose in disbelief. “Well, it’s just that I’m not used to being trapped in a house all day and there isn’t a lot of food in the kitchen. I don’t wish to be a burden and, since I don’t plan on staying married to you, I’m more than willing to get a job to pay my way until we can get this mess fixed...”

Pia let her voice die off. His face had darkened with her effortless denial of their marriage.

“Pia,” Zoran said. His jaw was very tight and worked against his flesh as he clearly tried not to yell at her. He took a deep breath, standing to tower over her. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. You are my wife and that’s the end of it. If you need something, I’ll provide it for you. If you need food, I’ll buy it. If you desire new clothes, I’ll buy them. If you want to leave the house, I’ll take off early tomorrow and show you around so you don’t get lost. But, make no mistake. This is your new home. I’m your husband and there will be no divorce.”

“That’s what you say,” Pia said. There was a distinct finality to his words and she felt like she was a soldier being given a command. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I’m sorry, but I will convene the royal council. It’s nothing personal—”

“Nothing personal?” he bellowed in disbelief. “You talk of divorcing me and you say it’s nothing personal?”

“Zoran.” She tried to keep her tone soft, though there was a definite edge to her words. “You are a very nice man and you will make someone very happy—”

“You have no grounds for divorce,” he declared, cutting into her placating speech with a slash of his angry hand. “To even bring it up to the council will dishonor us both. I can provide for you. I can give you sons. What will be your reason?”

“I... “Pia hesitated. How could she explain when she wasn’t sure herself? I’m scared of you and how you look at me. I think you’re too handsome and strong and I want a wimpy husband who doesn’t have such a striking voice, or a devilishly wicked grin. I want a man who can’t give me children because I’m scared of being touched or looked at.

“Well?”

“I,” she tried again. Her eyes dotted with moisture.

“Out with it!” Zoran yelled, waving his hand through the air.

“You are just impossible,” Pia screamed at him instead. “You’re nothing but an overgrown child who has to have his way. You don’t want me, and you’re only mad because I don’t want you. Well, get over yourself. I’m getting a divorce and there is nothing you can say or do to stop me!”

Pia stormed away.

“What about your contract?” he asked, as a last effort.

Pia stiffened, stopping in the doorway.

“I received a copy of it,” he said. In fact, he’d requested it. The way she’d referred to it in the tent, he’d been curious to know what the corporation had on her to make her follow him regardless of how she felt at the time. It’d been clear she wanted to leave the tent, but was too scared to.

Pia’s breath deepened with long pants of air. She didn’t look at him.

“You’ll owe them a lot of money if you leave me.”

“I can pay it back,” she lied, her voice trembling.

“If you could have, you wouldn’t be here,” he said.

“I can go on another trip,” she said, sounding more desperate with each sentence. “I can find a different husband to settle my obligation to Galaxy Brides.”

“Maybe you should read the fine print,” Zoran said. “Since I chose you, you can’t leave unless the wedding isn’t finished. If you leave me and I complain, you will have to pay them back for breach of contract.”

Pia spun to him in dismay. Her eyes rounded and her voice was barely audible, as she asked, “Why would you do that?”

“Because you are my wife.” His jaw was stiff. It was a shallow victory, but he would take it. “You belong with me.”

“I have no choice, do I?” Pia asked. “You’re serious.”

“Very.”

Pia gasped for breath, stricken by his decree. Her lips trembled and her eyes became moist. The tears didn’t fall.

Pia slowly nodded. Sighing in resignation, she said, “You win, Zoran. You win. There will be no divorce.”

As she turned to leave him, Zoran didn’t feel like he’d won anything. Her shoulders pressed proudly back. She didn’t cry or pout over her fate. She handled it with dignity.

He was sorry it had come to this. He’d never wanted to force her hand, but if she kept speaking of divorcing him someone would eventually overhear her. It would dishonor him and his family. The divorce would never be granted. As a prince, one of the votes was his and he would never allow it. But, the shame of going through the trial would undermine his authority with the men and embarrass everyone involved.

“Pia,” he called, not knowing what he could say to bridge the gap between them. He only hoped that time would mend it. She stopped, waiting. “Thanks for taking care of my arm.”

At that, he heard her give a short, humorless laugh. “Of course. What else is a wife for?”

Chapter 14

Zoran left his home at dawn. Pia was fast asleep on the couch, curled into a ball beneath the blanket. He felt terrible for forcing her to stay with him, but was proud of how well she accepted her fate. She didn’t cry or whine. She honored herself well.

Standing, arms crossed, he shouted commands to the young soldiers. He couldn’t slack in his duties. But as hard as he’d pushed the men lately, he would call off early in the day, and give them a break. He wanted to extend a peace offering to Pia, maybe escort her out of the house.

Seeing one of his brothers, Olek, striding toward the field, Zoran gave a wry chuckle of self-amusement. His brothers had been most lax in their training since getting married. Ualan had joined him for a little while during the swamp battles, but other than that, the princes had been scarce.

Olek’s features were drawn into a tight scowl and he stomped as if he were being chased by demons. When Olek’s troubled eyes lifted from the surrounding village, he nodded solemnly at his commander brother. Zoran answered with a devilish smile in return and sternly nodded back. He knew just what his little brother needed.

Lifting his arm to the men, he motioned to Olek and yelled, “First wave, attack!”

Olek jerked in surprise, but grinned as he swung his sword up from his waist. Zoran watched in brotherly mischief as the whole of his first battalion rushed forward and tackled the bravely fighting Olek to the ground.

“Here.” Zoran stood before his wife, sweaty from work, but not covered in swamp muck. In his extended hand he held a bunch of flowers. He’d pulled them up by the roots and red dirt still clung to them.

Pia looked up in surprise from where she lounged on the low cushion next to the short table. She’d been flipping through a weapons manual, probably looking at the pictures. He doubted she understood the words.

Pia eyed him and his wilting flowers unenthusiastically. “You’re off early.”

“I thought,” he began. “Here, take these. I’m trying to...ugh.”

Pia arched a brow. Standing, she set the manual aside and took the flowers.

“Ah, thanks,” she mumbled. “What do I do with them?”

“I’ve seen men give them to their wives.”

“I guess I should get them in some water?”

Zoran resisted the urge to smack the side of his temple, as she turned to walk the sorry bouquet to the kitchen. He’d known it was a stupid idea when Olek suggested it. Olek seemed so sure his own wife liked plants from the forest and assumed maybe all women did.

Following her to the kitchen, Zoran watched as she grabbed a knife and cut off the roots. She then filled a goblet with water and stuck the flowers in it. As she swept the roots into the trash, he said, “Come on. I got you some things.”

Pia eyed him suspiciously.

“Just,” he frowned and grumbled, waving her to follow. “Come on.”

Pia joined him in the main hall. She hadn’t noticed the packages he’d placed on the floor. “What’s all this?”

“I thought, well, you looked like you might need some stuff. So I went shopping for you.”

“Okay,” Pia allowed carefully.

Zoran leaned over and picked up the largest bag, handing it to her. “I got you clothes. I know they aren’t what you’re used to, but it’s our fashion. I purchased the most comfortable items I could find.”

Zoran had gone to the dressmaker, grabbing a random woman off the street who appeared to be about Pia’s size. The woman was shocked beyond belief to have the overlarge Captain of the Guards, and a prince at that, yank her into the dressmaker’s shop. But, after realizing what the big bad warrior was trying to do, she took pity on him and helped him out. She even went so far as to make him a list of everything he should consider getting. Zoran had gotten most of the items off her list—at least the ones he could understand. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what eyeliner and a blush tinter were. When he’d asked the baker if he knew, the man had just shrugged.

Zoran then ordered the old dressmaker to give him everything she had that a wife might have need of. She’d only been too happy to comply, insisting that he bring his wife back to the shop so she could measure her for a dress. Instead, Zoran told her to send one of her assistants to the palace to take the measurements. He hated to admit that he was still disturbed by her hair and not ready to bring her out in public. Not that he thought she wasn’t ravishing, but that the rest of his people would assume he did it to shame and humiliate her. The Draig would never believe a woman had purposefully done it her herself.

The seamstress’ helper would be arriving any minute. Zoran had picked out a few dress designs and materials he liked. Then, he’d given leeway to the woman to make Pia whatever else she saw fit, before leaving the shop.

Zoran frowned when his wife didn’t speak. “You aren’t pleased.”

“No,” she rushed. “It’s fine. I don’t think I need all this. Aside from something to do during the day, and food… I mean, there’s just so much of it.”

“I can’t take it back,” he lied. “So you might as well go through it and pick out what you want.”

Pia nodded. She took the bag and sat with it on the front hall floor. Carefully reaching in, she dug out several pairs of cotton slacks. The material was soft and flowing. They came in all colors, most predominantly black. One even had a red dragon embroidered on the front hip. She smiled.

Zoran saw her look and relaxed some. “So you’re not going to throw them in the fireplace?”

Pia looked up at him, clearly not knowing he was teasing. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t sleep the night before and I was—”

“It’s fine. Forget it.”

Pia nodded, but she still looked guilty.

Zoran lifted up a couple of bags, and began walking to the kitchen. “I’ll put the groceries away. And the eyeliners will be in the fridge.”

“Eyeliners?”

“Meat, for when your eyes swell like after a fight.” He paused, sure he’d correctly figured that item out.

“Oh, ok.”

“And if you don’t need it, we’ll eat it. The meat’s fresh,” he finished. “The rest is yours, go ahead and put it wherever you see fit.”

Pia swallowed nervously. No one had ever gotten her anything like this before. No one had ever brought her flowers. She didn’t care how sorry they looked. To her they were the most beautiful flowers in the galaxy.

Without Zoran watching her, she dug into the sack with shaking fingers. She found several cotton shirts, with built-in support. Reaching to scratch where her bra rubbed her side, she held her breath in excitement. These shirts would be so much more comfortable.

She heard Zoran rummaging around in the kitchen. She leaned back, trying to get a peek at him. She couldn’t see him from her place on the floor.

In one of the smaller bags contained several perfumes. She wondered if he’d even tested them, or if he’d simply walked along and plucked them randomly into a bag. She smelled a couple. Most were exotic flower blends and not bad. One, a very decorative bottle encrusted with fake gems, was awful and she capped it immediately.

“You’ll be decoration,” she said to the offending fragrance, setting it apart from the others.

There were socks, leather boots, and a low pair of shoes perfect for exercising. Lifting them up, she slipped the low shoes onto her bare feet. They fit perfectly.

“I thought you could use those if you wanted to work on your kicks,” he said from behind her.

Pia was in too good of a mood to take offence. It was just like a holiday—or what she imagined a holiday would’ve felt like. “There’s nothing wrong with my kicks. I hit you, didn’t I?”

They both instantly remembered their little fight in the tent. Zoran’s eyes lit with the memory. Pia turned quickly away to hide her blush.

“I let you hit me,” he said. “I took it easy on you, you know, because you’re a woman.”

Pia’s mouth dropped open at his presumption. “Hey, I’ve been in a lot of fights. I can hold my own.”

“I’m sure with a weaker, less skilled opponent, you could,” Zoran said, clearly provoking her on purpose.

“Are you saying I couldn’t take you down?” she asked, hands on hips. “I’ll have you know that I’ve taken down creatures twice your size.”

“Have you?” he smirked, not believing her.

“Yeah, I have,” she stated. “In fact, once in the Sollure System I took on two yehtis and their droid companion from—”

“Yehtis are slow, cumbersome creatures,” Zoran broke in, dismissing her words with a toss of his hand. “Anyone with half a brain could outwit them.”

“I was thirteen,” she said darkly.

“You could have just gotten lucky.”

“You’re impressed. Admit it.”

“Fine, two yehtis are impressive for a thirteen year old. It doesn’t mean that you don’t need to work on your moves.”

“My moves are just fine,” she countered. “I’ll take on any man you put in front of me.”

“Is that so?” he asked, taking a step forward.

“Yeah, that’s so!”

Zoran stepped directly in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest. “All right, then.”

Pia blinked up at him.

“Well?” he questioned, with an arrogant raise of his brow. “You said you could take down any man I put in front of you. So, what are you waiting for? Take me down.”

Pia narrowed her eyes. Instantly, her hand darted out for his neck and she turned to sweep him down over her hip. Zoran ducked out of her way and grabbed her from behind as she spun. Pulling her hard to his chest, he said, “I’m sorry, were you not ready? Would you like to try again?”

Pia grumbled as he let her go. Backing up, she eyed him. She came forward to fake a kick and punched toward his jaw. He dodged her fist, lifting his hand to catch it in his large palm.

Pia flinched, as he squeezed her fist lightly in his grasp without really hurting her, showing her how easily he could have broken her hand. She jerked away from him with a loud growl of frustration. Zoran smiled. “Are you done playing around?”

Pia shook out her hand and circled around him. Zoran lowered his arm to his side and didn’t move to watch her.

“Ow,” Pia cried out breathlessly, as if in pain.

Zoran instantly turned to check on her. It was a mistake. She grabbed his arm in mid turn and bucked him over her knee. He landed on his back with a thud and she jumped on top of him, pinning down his arms with her knees.

Smiling victoriously, she said, “You military guys are all the same. It doesn’t matter who you are, if you hear a womanly cry for help you’re all over it.” She shook her head, her short hair brushing up against her jaw. “I’m sorely disappointed, Zoran.”

Zoran grinned. He was anything but disappointed. He could’ve gotten out of her hold if he wanted to, but the view was too great to disrupt. He had an eyeful of her breasts right above his face and if he were to lean his head in he could nuzzle her inner thigh. Too bad she wouldn’t take her clothes off. This game would be much more entertaining if they were naked.

“Do you give up?” she asked.

“And relinquish this view?” he said playfully, giving a meaningful nod to her chest. He licked his lips. “Never.”

Pia gasped, instantly trying to stand. Zoran pushed up from the floor, bending straight over so she straddled his lap. Whipping his straightened legs to the sides and then around on the floor, he pinned her down with his body, fitting himself between her thighs. His body pressed into hers.

“Though, this view isn’t bad either,” he said naughtily. Looking down at her breasts beneath his face, he asked, “Do you mind if I just take a closer look?

“Ah!” Pia’s mouth fell open in outrage.

He took the opportunity to place a swift kiss on her lips. She jerked in response beneath him. She squeezed his waist with her legs, trying to get him to back off.

“Get off me, you gigantic oaf,” she ordered. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

Zoran chuckled and rolled to the side. She shot to her feet. Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door. Pia blinked looking down at her husband who was lying on his back, eyeing her from the floor.

“That would be the dressmaker’s assistant here to take your measurements,” he answered her unasked question. Kicking his feet into the air, he hopped to standing with little effort. He winked at Pia as he passed by. “I know you hate it, but you do need to have a few formal dresses for special occasions.”

Pia was too weak to answer. She liked the graceful way his body moved and flexed, it was strange to see a large man so nimble. The way he could so easily overtake her did something to her insides. She watched him, her mouth dry, as he went to answer the door. It was as if he had no idea the effect he had on her. Her heart hammered in her chest, pounding wildly.

In the tent, when they’d fought, he hadn’t moved as swiftly and surely as he had just now. Pia realized he’d held back that night. He’d let her think she had him matched. Now, watching him with new appreciation, she understood that he was trained well beyond her years of experience. She might get a few lucky shots in, but in the end he would always be able to defeat her. A small part of her wanted to beg him to train her. The other parts of her beat that small part up.

Pia peered over Zoran’s shoulder. A man stood in the doorway, looking at her with an expression akin to horror. She blushed, suddenly realizing he must have heard them from outside the hall.

“Draea Anwealda,” the dressmaker’s assistant said, turning to address Zoran with a slight bow. The man glanced at Pia’s hair and motioned to her with a look of compassion, asking Zoran something in their shared language.

Zoran glanced back at Pia before answering in kind.

The assistant motioned to her and then to his own longer locks. She self-consciously touched her hair as she watched him. When he looked at her again, it was as if he pitied her. The man shook his head sadly.

“What?” Pia asked, turning expectantly to Zoran to translate. “What’s he saying?”

Zoran frowned, but answered, “He wants to know why I have disfigured you, and if he should leave your presence. He thinks you might be preparing for exile.”

“What did you tell him?” Suddenly, she became extremely self-conscious. Annoying Zoran with her haircut was one thing, but eliciting pitying looks from outsiders was another completely. She didn’t wish to be pitied. She hated the looks people sometimes gave her when they’d seen her scarred face. That’s what this man’s expression reminded her of.

“That you weren’t disfigured,” Zoran answered.

She scowled at the man. He continued to stare at her. Her jaw lifted regally. The man turned away first. It was a grim victory.

Zoran said something in his language. The assistant rushed forward. Zoran nodded at his wife, going to the kitchen and leaving them alone. Lifting her arm, the assistant ran his measuring device over her body. He finished quickly, without looking directly at her again, and turned to leave. The door slid shut behind him.

“Please tell me not everyone is going to react like that,” she said in ill humor.

“Like what?” Zoran asked. He pretended not to know what she spoke of, as he came out of the kitchen wiping crumbs from his mouth.

“Never mind.” Hands on hips, she looked over the packages. “Where do you want me to put this stuff? The closet or dresser?”

“It’s up to you,” Zoran answered. “I cleared out the right side of the dresser and half the closet for you before the festival.”

The comment struck Pia as odd. It made her realize how much he’d actually planned on getting married. Was that why he picked her? Because he’d already set his mind to finding a bride and wouldn’t change it? Was she like the only girl left and he had to take her? Well, she had not been the only unchosen bride. It was good to know she’d at least beaten the obnoxious Gena for the spot.

“Uh, thanks,” she mumbled, for lack of anything better to say. To hide her nervousness, she picked up the bags and carried them to the bedroom. Within minutes, she had everything in its place. Then, going back to the hall, she took the perfumes and went to the bathroom.

Zoran was in the hot spring when she walked in, and she jumped in surprise.

“Oh, sorry,” she said in distress. “I didn’t realize...that...you...”

She threw the bag on the counter a little too hard. The bottles clanked as she began her retreat, trying to keep her eyes diverted from his naked body.

Zoran laughed, completely unashamed. “Pia—”

The slamming door cut off his words.

Chapter 15

The next morning, Pia was lying on the couch, lazing away the morning hours when she heard the door slide up. Zoran was gone when she awoke, not that she expected him to be home.

Not moving, her heart skipped. Her eyes turned to the door, waiting for him to come through.

“Hello?”

Pia froze. That wasn’t Zoran. Sitting forward, Pia tried to smooth back her hair. Queen Mede entered the home. She looked very formal in her regal dark blue gown.

“Zoran...?” the queen began.

Pia stood from the couch, wishing she’d taken the time to change from her cotton shirts and slacks. She felt very out of place standing before royalty. She had no idea what to say.

Queen Mede’s eyes found Pia. The smile faded from her features.

“So it’s true,” the queen said, coming forward. She lifted her hands as if to touch Pia’s shortened hair before drawing back. She shook her head sadly. “Zoran’s disfigured you.”

Pia frowned.

The queen studied the woman before her. “Do you know who I am, dear?”

“Oh.” Thinking the queen thought her rude, she quickly moved into a curtsey. “Yes, of course, Queen Mede. I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. Please, come in.”

The queen nodded royally.

“Zoran is, um, well, he’s working. I don’t know where but I do know he was on guard duty at the swamps earlier this week if that helps,” Pia said nervously. The queen stared at her hair, and Pia didn’t dare glare at this woman as she had the seamstress’ assistant.

“I was actually looking for you, dear,” the queen said politely.

“Oh?” Pia asked, fidgeting.

“It was reported what he did to you.” The queen motioned to her hair. “I know he had to do something to cover that little stunt you pulled the morning of the festival, but I never thought it would be this.”

Pia paled.

“Which I might add, the king and I were thoroughly amused by,” Queen Mede said with a good-natured chuckle. Pia only stiffened more. “Lord Zoran is a tough man. We were glad to see he’d met his match.”

“Lord Zoran?” Pia asked. She didn’t know that she was Zoran’s match, but she didn’t correct the woman. Her knees weakened a little. “He’s titled?”

The queen tilted her head to the side and didn’t know how to answer. “I’m told our culture is complicated for someone new to it. I’m sure Zoran will explain it to you if you ask him.”

Pia smiled, though she wasn’t so sure.

Queen Mede’s eyes turned over her again. She looked mournfully at Pia’s hair. “I just had to see for myself that the rumors were true. I’m terribly sorry about your disfigurement.”

The last thing Pia wanted was the queen stopping by to pay her condolences for her shorn locks. She didn’t need the woman’s pity. She didn’t want it.

This is getting ridiculous. Maybe I should’ve had a funeral for it, Pia thought wryly, so everyone could pay their respects to my hair.

Pia touched her blonde locks. She unconsciously frowned. “I don’t see it as a punishment. Actually, all that weight on my head was the punishment. I like it short.”

“You’re right to look at the positive,” the queen said, as if approving of Pia’s bravery. She nodded at her in encouragement. “It’s only hair and luckily it will grow back someday.”

Pia thought of her scars. She’d hate to see how these vain people would’ve reacted to those.

“I’ll give Zoran an earful,” the queen continued, “that’s for sure. In the meantime, I have some beautiful headdresses I’ll send you.”

“Thank you,” Pia said, still at a loss.

The queen looked like she wanted to say something more, but drew back. Pia’s nature wasn’t exactly open to friendship.

“Well, I will take my leave of you.” Queen Mede headed toward the front door. Pia slowly followed behind her. “Tell Lord Zoran I stopped by and I wish for him to call on me as soon as it’s convenient.”

“Please, don’t bother on my behalf,” Pia said.

“No, no, of course not,” the queen mumbled. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, before she said, “There are other matters I need him to tend to.”

Pia nodded and tried to smile. The queen left and she was relieved. She shook her head, more annoyed by the visit than anything else.

Queen Mede eyed the closing door and frowned. It was clear Pia didn’t know she was a princess or a royal daughter. As much as she wanted to, it wasn’t the queen’s place to intervene. She knew her son would tell Pia about it when the time was right.

The queen was glad to see Pia’s spirit wasn’t broken by her son’s actions. She’d known women who cried and went into self-imposed exile while waiting for their hair to grow back. In their society it wasn’t just the loss of hair, it was the loss of honor it represented that shamed them.

“My sons, what are we to do with you?” the queen whispered to herself. “Who would have imagined such great men would make for such bumbling husbands.”

Chapter 16

“Father,” Zoran called, leaning his head into the king’s royal offices. His father looked up from his desk and waved him inside. Zoran silently crossed over the plush carpet, and took a seat across from the king. His back was at rigid attention as he watched his father expectantly.

“Zoran,” the king stated. He finished writing on a document and turned his full attention to his son. Reaching over, he grabbed a stack of papers that needed Zoran’s attention and handed them over. “How are the men shaping up?”

“Fine,” Zoran answered, knowing that wasn’t the reason his father had asked to see him. He put the documents on his lap, aware that he would be required to read over them later. “I’ve pushed them hard these past few days. We have a few weaknesses but I’m working it out. Some of the men show great promise.”

“Glad to hear it.” The king rested his chin on his folded hands and studied his son. After a long moment, he leaned back and pressed his lips together in thought. “Yusef stopped by last night.”

“Is everything well at the Outpost?” Zoran asked in concern.

The king sniffed wryly to himself. “Militarily speaking.”

Zoran arched a brow in question.

“Yusef’s bride is in chastisement,” the king said. “She took a blade to his...anyhow. I decreed that the chastisement stands until he releases her. Officially, I need your agreement on the matter and then it will be settled.”

Zoran tried not to laugh. He failed miserably. Chuckling, he managed to say, “Agreed.”

“Ah, wipe that smile off your face,” the disgruntled king ordered, waving his hand. Zoran wasn’t worried by the fatherly tone. “Your marriage is giving us just as much of a headache. Do you know I had to listen to your mother for nearly three hours this morning? It seems she took it upon herself to visit Pia.”

Zoran’s expression gave nothing away. His heart tightened in his chest and his stomach rolled into knots. Had Pia tried to divorce him despite her contract?

“I honestly don’t know what to do with you boys,” King Llyr admitted wearily. “I’m planning a celebration in about a week to coronate the princesses. But it seems only Olek’s bride is aware she’s a princess and, apparently, Nadja is none too thrilled with the fact. Yusef’s wife is in chastisement and even he admits he doesn’t know her real name. Ualan’s wife, Morrigan, has declared herself a slave and can’t leave his home. And then, I have to hear it from your mother that you disfigured your own wife.”

Zoran felt his heart beat again and he almost sighed with relief. Pia hadn’t tried to divorce him.

“I don’t know what you’re smiling about,” the king scolded, seeing Zoran’s lips tilt slightly, though the look on his son’s stern face could hardly be called a smile by most standards.

“I didn’t cut her hair,” Zoran said. “She did it to herself.”

The king blinked in disbelief. “Regardless of her disfigurement, I need your wife at the coronation. Now, I have excused Yusef’s bride from attending. Since she’s in chastisement and will undoubtedly not repent, your mother has agreed to spread the word that this nameless woman is ill and in recovery. Enough people have seen the medic going to the Outpost these last several days to validate the story.”

Zoran grimaced. A week to turn his bride around and tell her she is a princess? He wondered how Pia would take the news. Laughing humorlessly to himself, he wondered which she’d hate worse—the fact she was a princess, or the fact she’d have to spend an evening in a formal gown.

“Can’t the coronation be set back?” Zoran asked. “There’s no reason to have it so soon.”

“There have been rumors that the brides have not been seen within the castle and that all four marriages are in ruin.” King Llyr’s look said he was well aware the rumors weren’t completely unfounded. “If anything, we need to keep up the appearances of being a united family. You are all mated, my son. If the people feel that our line is ending because each of you had an unlucky marriage and cannot produce heirs, there could be panic. People need to trust that our crystal tradition is still blessed by the gods and that our trade agreement with Galaxy Brides is the right course for our futures.”

Zoran nodded, understanding what his father said. If the people felt their royal line was too weak to continue ruling, they would overthrow them. It wouldn’t matter how much they liked and respected the royal family, or how long they’d ruled. Once overthrown, there would be chaos. Not many dragon-shifters would want the responsibility of the throne.

“Olek and I have spoken on the matter,” King Llyr stated, “and we feel that a quick coronation with healthy, accounted for brides is just the thing to stop this threat to our house and to our traditions.”

Olek was the Draig ambassador and had to meet with the neighboring kingdom of Var on a regular basis. Zoran didn’t envy his brother’s job, for he’d much rather fight the cat-shifters in battle than talk to their forked-tongued nobles on a regular basis.

“And, if one of you boys can manage to breed before next week...” The king let his words trail off as he looked pointedly at Zoran. The prince didn’t move and King Llyr frowned in disappointment. All four princes knew how much their parents wanted grandsons. “Just settle this matter and make your mother happy. If she’s happy, I don’t have to yell at you.”

“Yes, my king,” Zoran answered. He knew it irritated the queen that she couldn’t openly go to her new daughters and proclaim their relation. No doubt she had grand feminine plans in store for all the new brides.

“Olek has been to meet with King Attor’s ambassadors and feels the Var grow restless. I fear the cat-shifters will try to invade. It’s quite possible they have spies within our walls already,” the king continued. Zoran listened in his customary silence, giving none of his thoughts away. “This matter with the brides needs to be resolved so we can focus on what’s important.”

“I’ll work the men twice as hard,” Zoran said, seriously. “If battle comes we will be prepared. The Var will not make it past the borderlands.”

“Fine.” The king wasn’t worried. Zoran was the best at what he did. “I have already invited King Attor to the coronation, to prove to the entire kingdom we’re not scared of him.”

“I’ll personally see to the security,” Zoran said. As captain it was his duty.

“No, I’ll have Yusef keep an eye on him since he’ll be free that night.” King Llyr stood and leaned over his desk to stare at his son. “I’m ordering you as your king to get your house in order by the coronation. I want to see happy brides. I want to see dancing and singing and merriment. Gods’ bones, I want to see some inappropriate kissing and groping as well. A little scandal in that direction would do this matter a world of good, and would change the flow of those wagging tongues. I want your bride completely besotted with you.”

Zoran’s jaw flexed. Pia besotted? It was an order from his king and he couldn’t refuse. He could just imagine if he kissed Pia in public. She’d no doubt take him and his army of warriors on. Standing, he nodded his head and said the only thing he could. “It will be done.”

“Good,” the king answered loudly with a wide smile. He had full confidence in his son’s abilities, undoubtedly because Zoran’s prowess with the female sex was legendary amongst his men. He walked Zoran to the door. As he ushered him out, King Llyr said, “And no more of this disfiguring nonsense. If you have to, put the biggest accursed headdress you can find over her head to hide it.”

Chapter 17

Pia looked over the edge of the couch to where Zoran sat cross-legged on a floor cushion at the low dining table. His hands were threaded through his hair as he read some papers he’d brought home with him. He was unusually quiet and it was driving her to distraction. She was bored—really, really, really bored. She’d even started biting her nails, a habit she never had before this day.

“The queen came by,” she said to break his concentration. It didn’t get as big of a reaction as she’d expected.

Zoran knitted his brow, glancing over with only his eyes before turning back to the page. “I heard.”

“Oh, did you go see her then? Because she wanted me to tell you to go and see her,” Pia said, turning to kneel on the cushions so she could better study him. She laid her arms over the back of the couch, resting her chin on her hands as she waited for him to answer. He read a few more lines before speaking.

“I’ll take care of it,” Zoran answered, without bothering to look at her again. He continued to read and Pia watched him in silence for a long moment.

She would never tell him, but earlier that day she’d been so bored that she tried on all his formal tunics and pretended to fight with one of his swords. The sad thing was the imaginary creature she fought against won the battle. Though, her dramatic performance in the death scene was quite good, even if she did think so herself.

“Are we nobility?” She was all too aware of the effect his presence was having on her. Easily, she could recall the look and feel of his chest.

Zoran made a great show of sighing.

“The queen called you Lord Zoran and said I should ask you to explain it to me.”

“I’m trying to get this done, Pia. Do you mind if we talk about it later?”

“Oh, sorry,” Pia mumbled. With a loud sigh, she sank back into the couch and absently kicked her feet against the cushions.

Zoran looked over at the couch. Pia’s foot was lifted over the back, swinging in loud boredom. He tried not to smile. She’d been trying to get his attention ever since he’d walked in the door. Ignoring her wasn’t a tactic he would’ve thought of before now. It was working beautifully.

“Pia?” he sighed, forcing exasperation.

Her head popped back up from behind the couch, expectant.

“Can you do that a little quieter?” he asked, with a meaningful nod at her still dangling foot.

“Sorry,” she huffed, scrunching up her face. As she lay back down, he heard her mumble, “You try spending all day in this stupid house and see if you don’t get a little stir crazy.”

He was glad she’d stopped asking about titles and nobility. The truth was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her she was a princess. He had no idea how she would react. If she were happy, he would worry that she would start looking at him for his title and not himself. If she were mad about it, he would worry that she wouldn’t get over it in time for the coronation. Of course, to be coronated, she’d probably need to know beforehand why a crown was being placed on her head.

Pia quietly stood from the couch and wandered around the house. Slowly, she circled her way closer to him, going into the kitchen before slithering out to stand behind his back. She lifted up on her toes, trying to read over his shoulder.

“Argh, woman,” Zoran said, spinning around to look at her. He leaned a hand on the floor behind him to support his weight. She was beautiful. Even without her little noises, she would’ve been distracting him with her presence. Every time he tried to read a line, he’d start imagining her naked body on the page and what he’d do to her if she’d only let him. Already, he’d restarted the same paragraph five times.

“Are you almost finished?” she asked.

“What is it you want?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said. “Are you still busy?”

Zoran’s eyebrow rose on his forehead. He studied her carefully, wondering at her forlorn expression. Was she pouting about his absence? Did she actually miss him during the day as he did her? A smile came to his lips as he looked purposefully over her body.

Pia blushed, denying instantly, “Not that!”

He shrugged. Was he busy? He looked back at the stack of royal documents needing his attention. Zoran needed to finish them. He doubted the king would take any excuse short of him impregnating Pia with a grandson. Since that wasn’t going to happen, he knew he should get back to work.

“I need your permission for something,” she rushed to keep his attention on her and not the paperwork.

That intrigued him. Zoran slowly turned to study her again.

Pia idly made her way past him to sit across the table. She crossed her legs as she lowered herself onto a comfortable cushion. Her eyes drifted to his documents, noticing a dragon on the top of the page—his dragon.

Pia hesitated. Instead of asking, she lifted her finger to ruffle the side of the stack of papers and inquired, “What are all these, anyway?”

“Work,” came the short answer. Pia gave a light grimace and drew her hands to her lap.

Zoran tensed. Oh, how he wanted nothing more at the moment than to crawl over the table and kiss the incredibly erotic pout off her face.

“Well?” he probed, feigning an annoyance he didn’t feel. He enjoyed their little games.

“Any chance you’d just give me permission without knowing?” Pia asked. His expression said that it wasn’t likely. “All right, I want... “

Zoran smiled, growing unbelievably aroused by the way her mouth moved when she talked. His stomach tightened and his leg muscles were ready to pounce at the slightest command from his brain. He couldn’t take much more of this. His hands itched to touch her. His mouth throbbed with the need to kiss her.

Swallowing, Pia was completely unaware of the effect she had on him. She considered her words carefully. “I want to touch your weapon.”

His grin grew, as did his desire. Slowly, he stood. Pia followed suit. A soft look of hope came to her innocent features. His manly “weapon” stirred to eager attention. What exactly was she asking him? To his disappointment, her next statement answered that question. It wasn’t the answer his hard cock wanted.

“Just the throwing knives,” Pia hastened, seeing his look and taking it for displeasure. She laid a pleading hand on his arm. She shivered, very drawn to the handsomeness of his eyes. Every time she thought of them, she got chills. “I wasn’t allowed to bring my set on the ship and had to leave them behind. Apparently they thought I’d, I don’t know, take out all the insipid brides or something.”

In truth, Pia had to sell the antique set to get to the Galaxy Brides’ corporation headquarters to see the doctors. But it was true they didn’t let her take her cheaper backups on board. This was the first time she’d been without a weapon for an extended period of time and she felt exposed without one.

“Please,” she begged. She bounced in jittery excitement. “It’s been making me crazy staring at them all day and not being able to do anything. I’ll go mad without something to keep me busy.”

“Knives?” His hand lifted to stroke her cheek. She blinked in surprise at the touch, almost startled, and he drew away.

“It’s polite to ask before taking,” Pia explained. “I would never dream of touching another fighter’s weaponry. I mean the knife I used the other day wasn’t anything special, the blade was misaligned and the hilt, anyway… If not for the demanded etiquette, I wouldn’t have bugged you about it. My father...”

She stopped suddenly. Zoran saw the look on her face and frowned. Something inside her wavered, but she lifted her chin proudly.

“Give me a kiss,” Zoran said instead, a grin curling his devilishly handsome mouth.

Pia’s brows furrowed.

“Just one.”

Pia swallowed and didn’t move. His eyes were staring boldly into hers. Her mouth pressed shut and she denied him. With a shake of her head, she said, “Don’t change the subject.”

“Can I at least kiss you?” he murmured seductively, drawing closer still.

“Please,” Pia said, staring at his full mouth. Then, shaking herself, she added, “I’ll take good care of them.”

“I can’t supervise you just now,” Zoran answered at last. He glanced back at the documents. “I am expected to finish and return these by the morning, but I’ll show them to you later.”

Pia wrinkled her nose at him and grumbled, “I don’t need supervision, tyrant. I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He crossed his arms in a very commanding way that was full of authority and power. “I keep all my weapons very sharp and ready for battle. Maybe I could get you a child’s set to begin with.”

The offer had been genuine. Pia was genuinely ticked off. Her face turned a bright shade of angry red. Her mouth fell open at the audacity.

“Yeah, you do that and I’ll shove that child’s set right up your stubborn—”

“Pia,” he warned.

Her mouth snapped shut and she glared at him. Suddenly, she smiled agreeably, “Husband?”

Now Zoran looked worried.

“Is this my house, too?” she asked, her voice sweet.

Stiffly, he nodded, very afraid.

“Fine, if you are going to be a tyrant, so will I. In many societies I have seen, the wife runs the household, and if I have to get used to your culture, you have to get used to my ways. And I’ll make you as crazy as you make me. You are to pick up after yourself. No more leaving laundry on the floor, no more dirty boots in the front hall. You’ll rinse your own swamp mud out of the shower. That was really very gross—”

“Pia,” Zoran interjected.

“Huh?”

“Are you finished? I really need to get back to the documents.” His eyes devoured her.

“Zoran, what part of this are you not understanding? I’m going crazy in this house,” she cried. “Please, please, please, let me go outside.”

“Open,” he yelled at the door. Pia turned her eyes to the front door. It slid open. He waved at it. “Have fun, try not to get lost.”

Zoran sat back down at the table, pretending to ignore her.

Pia glared at his downturned head. “You know what I mean. Program my voice into it so I can leave during the day.”

“And what will you do?” he asked. To the door, he called, “Shut!”

“I’m going to get a job,” Pia answered, carefully. She drew her finger in absent circles around the table. “You’re gone all day so it’s not like you’d even notice.”

“You don’t need to work. We don’t need the money.”

“Oh, but I do need to work,” she rushed. “I’ve never been as useless as I have been these last several days. If you’re not going to let me divorce you, then you have to give just a little. Otherwise, you will have a neurotic mess on your hands and not a wife.”

“And what exactly are you going to do?” Zoran asked, standing once more and striding forward to tower over to her. She shivered and inched away from him in nervousness.

“I—I don’t want to tell you,” she said, backing further away. “You’ll only laugh at me.”

Zoran grew worried.

“I’m going to talk to the dressmaker,” she lied. “I’m pretty handy with a...needle.”

“Really?” Zoran mused as if he thought sewing wasn’t too bad and it could have been much worse. “I’ll speak to the seamstress tomorrow for you. I don’t think she’s looking for an apprentice, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Pia scowled. She had no intention of speaking to the seamstress. The only thing she’d ever stitched up was her own hide. “Never mind, I would rather do it myself.”

“She doesn’t speak your language.”

His logical tone frustrated Pia even more. This conversation wasn’t going as she’d hoped. All she wanted was to use his knives and to go outside to do it.

Zoran turned back to his documents. Giving her an expectant look, he asked, “Was there anything else?”

Pia glowered hotly at him and stalked away.

Chapter 18

Pia smiled, watching the slight spark as she hit two wires together. The front door slid up. It had only taken an hour for her to find the controls in the wall and reprogram the door. The hole she’d dug in the side wall was unfortunate, but didn’t her husband say it was her house, too? And why couldn’t she dig a hole into the wall of her house if she wanted to? She’d hoped it wouldn’t come to sneaking out, but Zoran really left her no choice.

She wore the boots he’d given her, a pair of the more serviceable pants and a cotton shirt. Her outfit was all black, matching the mischievous stealth-like mood she was in. At her waist was her tyrant of a husband’s throwing knives. Hey, she’d asked him. It wasn’t her fault he was stubborn and forced her to resort to borrowing without permission.

Child’s set, my blackhole! The nerve of him.

Turning down the hall in the direction she’d seen Zoran walk in that morning, she looked around. Their apartment adjoined a long red hallway. As she made her way, she noticed portraits, statues, and tapestries decorated with subtle beauty. She ignored them all, not really interested in fine art except as landmarks for direction.

Coming to the first turn, she frowned. The halls looked the same, only the decorations were different. Seeing a small panel on the wall with strange carvings, she looked at all four corners. Three were the similar in design, one was different. She tried the hall with the different symbol.

She got lucky. The hall led her down a straight path, past several closed doors and a shorter hallway. She kept going straight and hit upon the front gate. Sunlight streamed through the opening. The guard on duty looked her over, stopping to stare at her hair. He seemed to have heard about her, because he merely nodded his head and allowed her to pass without speaking.

Pia narrowed her eyes and made a face behind his back. These stupid Qurilixian, Draig, whatever they called themselves, and their hair fetish. She cursed them all with baldness.

Going into the soft haze of the triple suns, she took a deep breath of air. She instantly felt better. She was in a courtyard. Glancing up in surprise, she realized she lived in the small mountain she’d seen from the festival ground. From the ground, because of the angle, you couldn’t see the windows or balconies adjoining the homes. They were carved so that even from a distance they looked just like a mountain cliff. It was truly an impenetrable fortress. Pia was impressed.

A path went down one side of the courtyard to the forest. Another split off to a tiny village nestled in the valley. The red earthen streets were carved to perfection and the town looked very tidy. Pia walked slowly away from the forest. Past the village she could see the edge of the festival grounds and the platform where she’d first met the king and queen. The tents were all gone and the field looked barren.

The villager’s homes were of rock and wood, so that even the poorest of families appeared to be taken care of—or they were shooed out of the city so they didn’t dirty the streets. Pia detected some of the villagers down below. They wore light linen tunics and all had long hair. Pia touched her short blonde locks, hating how she was suddenly self-conscious about them. Taking a tie from her pocket, she pulled her hair back into a small ponytail.

Suddenly, she heard the telltale strike of metal to metal. She smiled mischievously. Today was her lucky day. Lifting her shirt, she took out the knives hidden in her waistband and bounced them lightly in her hand. It was time to have some fun.

Pia grinned at the surrounding men. It hadn’t taken long for her to draw a crowd. At first, everyone had stared at her from a distance—especially her short hair—in wonderment. Then, when she took her knives and began to throw, the men had gathered around to watch her. They nodded their heads in grudging respect of her skill, and soon no one cared that her hair was short or that she was a woman invading their practice field.

Pia smiled to herself. It was the same everywhere she went. Warriors were easily won over with a little show. She tossed the last of Zoran’s knives at the throwing post and turned to look at the small crowd.

“Any challengers?” she called to the men. The men smiled in return, glancing around their ranks.

“I’ll take that challenge, my lady,” one of the soldiers said. He was a scruffy looking lad with long lips and an easy smile.

“And you are?” Pia questioned.

The man bowed gallantly before her, his nature effortless in its good humor. “Hume, my lady.”

“Well, Sir Hume,” she said loudly, an impish grin lining her features. “I hope you don’t mind losing to a woman.”

The surrounding men howled with laughter. Hume waved his hand gallantly at them, completely unconcerned.

“If I have to lose,” he said most courteously. He took up her hand and bowed low over it. “Let it be my heart to one as lovely as you, my lady.”

Pia smirked, not taking any notice of the gallantry. She snatched her hand away and waved him back as she went to retrieve her blades. The crowd laughed louder at the man’s bold banter and the lady’s firm dismissal of it.

Pia walked up, lifting the hilt to Hume in offering.

“No, my lady,” he murmured graciously. His eyes sparkled. “By all means, you go first.”

Agro cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Draea Anwealda.”

Zoran turned up from the papers he was still trying to get through. He lifted a finger before concluding the last sentence with a slight sigh. He hadn’t been able to read the documents the night before. He kept thinking of Pia, and the boring trade agreement couldn’t compete. With a sigh, he reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a pen. He quickly signed his name before handing the documents over to a waiting soldier, saying, “Deliver these to the king immediately.”

The man nodded and was off.

Zoran stepped out of the small one-room building, which he loosely referred to as an office, onto the practice field. Smiling, he nodded at Agro. “What brings you out?”

“Ach, the wife is pregnant and she’s kicked me out of the house again,” the man said, waving a dismissing hand as if it were no big deal. “She says I make her crazy, but I tried to tell her she’s always crazy at this time.”

Zoran chuckled and began walking toward the far end of the field to the village. He’d seen the man’s slender wife. She was the only person who could make this giant tremble with fear.

Agro was a monster of a man with two green eyes that were currently blackened with matching bruises. He had an easy smile that was always full of mischief. He’d grown up around the four princes, knew them well, and was well liked by them in return.

“She do that to your face while kicking you out?” Zoran asked, motioning to the black eyes and still chuckling.

“Ach, no! That was your brother, Ualan. He was a bit testy at the Breeding Festival and needed to vent,” Agro said. “And I might have said a few things that aggravated him.”

Zoran’s smile faded slightly.

“So how’s your new blushing bride?” Agro asked. Zoran wondered at the man’s roguish grin. He was up to something. “Word is she hasn’t been out since the wedding. You keeping her tied up somewhere?”

“Ah,” Zoran waved the question away.

“I see it’s true you disfigured her,” Agro said with a smirk.

Since Agro was like a brother to him, he let the insolence pass.

“I don’t know why you would’ve done it. She has a glorious color to her hair. When the sun hits it, it’s like spun gold,” Agro said.

Zoran nodded, but then, taking in what the man revealed, he stopped and frowned. When had this man seen Pia outside, in the sunlight? He hadn’t been there when he’d introduced her to his parents at the festival and the festival night was just that—night.

Unhampered, Agro continued in his mischief, “Yeah, she’s a beauty all right. Not like Yusef’s little firebird who’s all vigor and flames. No, your wife is all air and light. Why, those eyes of hers, what would you say are they brown? Green? I couldn’t rightly tell. Ah, it doesn’t matter—”

“What are you talking about?” Zoran asked when it became clear the man intended rambling on until he stopped him.

Agro grinned.

“Where is she?” Zoran demanded hotly, his face snarling. His stomach tightened into knots and he placed his hands on his hips.

“Ah, so you don’t know that your wife’s gone and joined the military?” Agro questioned needlessly. “And that the men seem taken by the beautiful woman who, I might add, throws better than most of them. Plus, she has a smile so straightforward that it makes their single hearts melt.”

“Joined the...?” Zoran began in confusion. In order to join, she’d have to get his permission. “What are you going on about?”

“She’s practicing right now with the men,” Agro said, motioning Zoran’s attention to the growing group of soldiers around the knife post.

Zoran frowned, storming forward. He told himself it wasn’t possible. Pia was locked safely away in their home. There was no way she could have gotten out.

Agro watched the prince in curiosity. He knew Zoran well enough to know he wouldn’t like his beautiful new bride around the rowdy soldiers without him.

Zoran came around the group of men and froze. Hume was throwing his knives at the post. Pia, his wayward wife, was standing next to him, clapping good-naturedly as the man hit his mark.

Zoran’s limbs tightened in outrage and, for a moment, he couldn’t move.

Pia laughed as Hume copied her throw and hit her marks. A bright smile came to her face as she glanced around. She missed the hard countenance of her husband at the edge of the crowd.

Hume, his wide lips grinning from ear to ear, teased, “Would you like to try again, my lady? I’m trying to take it easy on you.”

“Hume!” Zoran shouted.

Pia jolted in alarm at the gruff bark. She blinked in confusion. All eyes turned to Zoran at the noise, except Pia who glanced over at Hume.

The soldier stepped forward and bowed to the prince, as he answered, “Yes, Draea Anwealda.”

“Since you have so much energy, lead these men through a march of the east field course,” Zoran commanded.

“Yes, Draea Anwealda,” Hume said, instantly calling out orders.

Pia trembled, seeing how all the men stood at attention, only to solute Zoran at the order to march. She’d thought he’d be off guarding something. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched her husband. Instantly, she took in his authoritative pose. He wasn’t a guard. He was the commander. How could she have missed it?

The men filed into an orderly line and jogged off without giving her a backwards glance. Zoran stared hard at her, clearly trying to control his anger. Agro, who watched Pia’s stubborn expression from behind him, slowly slipped away, grinning like a fool.

Pia swallowed nervously when they were left alone on the field. Unable to come up with a single thing to say, she forced a tight smile and turned to go gather the knives from the post.

“Don’t you move,” Zoran said. His tone was soft but there was no doubt that it was a command.

Pia froze, despite her instinct to run away as fast as she could. She kept her back to him. A grimace purposefully formed on her features as she waited.

Zoran took a slow step toward her. Pia tensed. He continued past, grabbing his knives from the post. Clenching them in his fist, he marched back to stand in front of her. His arm rose, motioning to a nearby guard, who was passing, to come to him. He handed the knives to the man and ordered that he put them in his office. The guard bowed and obeyed, leaving the couple once more alone on the field.

Pia looked Zoran in the eye while she waited for him to speak.

“Who let you out?” he demanded after a long, hot pause in which he glared at her.

Pia frowned at his hard tone, growing evermore irritated with him. She’d been having fun until he showed up and ruined it. Bitterly, she said, “Don’t you mean to say, how did I escape my prison?”

“Pia.” His eyes narrowed.

“Warden,” she said insolently in the same tone. She crossed her arms over her chest and mimicked his militant stance.

“Do you think this is a game?” Zoran asked.

“It’s your fault I’m out here,” Pia said. Her brow rose on her face, daring him on into a fight.

“My fault?”

“I asked you nicely to let me out of the house during the day. I wouldn’t have needed to sneak out behind your back if you hadn’t forbidden me from throwing your knives. I tried to reason with you, tyrant.”

“I told you no!”

“I’m not your pet. I’m not one of these men you can order about.”

“You are my wife,” he said, as if that one thing gave him the right to be angry.

“This is all I know how to do, Zoran,” she proclaimed waving her hand about the field.

“I thought you could sew,” he answered with a dark snarl.

“And I thought you were a royal guard, so I guess we’re even. I only told you I could sew to try and get out of the house.” She uncrossed her arms and put them on her hips. She took a menacing step forward. Poking him defiantly in his rock-hard chest, she added, “I’m sick and tired of you, Zoran, and your macho, controlling attitude. Either you get your act together and resign yourself to the fact that you didn’t marry a homemaker, or give me my divorce. The choice is up to you. But I’ll not be kept a prisoner anymore.”

As she screamed the word “divorce” at him, he glanced around. A few villagers were gathered below them, pointing and watching the royal couple in awe. He saw Agro, a frown on the man’s lips, as he tried to usher the curious onlookers away.

Pia wasn’t concerned with the villagers. She was too mad. Zoran’s eyes flash with a golden fire, as he shot forward and grabbed her arm. Tugging her behind him, he began leading her away from the field.

Pia stumbled, tripping over her feet as she tried to dig her heels into the ground to stop him. When that didn’t work, she jumped and landed on his back. Her arm wound around his neck as she squeezed.

Zoran stumbled in amazement that she actually tried to attack him in public, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d warned him she was a fighter. Her long legs wound around his waist. Zoran jerked, throwing her over his body.

Pia flipped over his shoulder, through the air, and landed hard on the ground. She grunted as she fell forward, bruising her knees. Zoran descended upon her. Wrenching her arm behind her back, he hauled her to her feet.

Pia struggled against him, moaning slightly when he pulled her arm higher. She refused to scream. Her body tensed waiting for any opening to escape. Her lungs heaved for air.

“Behave,” Zoran ordered, giving her a hard shake. He pulled her back into his chest. Pia tensed. His mouth came close to her throat and she felt his teeth on her neck, biting lightly.

“Let me go,” she ordered.

“Do you concede the fight?”

“Never,” she said. “I’ll never concede to you, you lying bastard.”

Zoran pulled back from her throat. With a swift jerk, he twirled her into the air. Pia screamed in surprise. He caught her easily over his shoulder and stormed into the castle.

“Draea Anwealda,” the guard said at the front gate. His eyes were wide as he saw the struggling, screaming woman over the commander’s shoulder. Zoran nodded at him as if nothing was amiss.

Pia glared at the soldier as she was carted away. Suddenly, she dug her nails into Zoran’s back, clawing him.

Zoran flinched, arching as he loosened his hold. Pia kneed him in the chest and pushed up, falling over his back to the floor. Hitting the ground in a summersault, she rolled, hopped instantly to her feet, and ran for the castle entrance.

“Stop her,” Zoran ordered the guard, striding after his wife.

The guard instantly moved in her way, blocking her. Pia smiled cruelly. This man was obviously underestimating his prey. She ran faster. His arms widened as if to catch her. Pia ducked at the last possible second, kicking his legs out from under him. The surprised soldier landed on his back but sprang forward to grab her ankle as she tried to rush past.

Pia fell to the ground, bumping her chin on the hard earth. Her teeth jarred in her head and she kicked at the soldier’s head, barely missing.

Suddenly, Zoran’s hand was on the back of her hair, hauling her up. Pia moaned loudly, more in outrage than in pain.

“On your feet,” Zoran bellowed to the soldier, who instantly obeyed and stood back up.

This time Zoran wasn’t so pleasant in his restraint. He hooked a large arm around her neck and dragged her before him. When Pia tried to bite at his arm, he flexed his muscles and cut off her air. She struggled for breath, clawing at his arm to be free. Her head spun and her arms weakened. When her scratches lightened, Zoran loosened his hold. Pia gasped, clutching at his arm. He marched her down the long hall, dragging her when her feet stumbled at the awkward angle. He turned the corner to his home.

The door was still wide open and he frowned. He threw Pia inside, automatically noticing the hole in the wall and the panel that had been tampered with.

“Shut,” he hollered. The door slid closed. He seemed momentarily relieved that it still worked.

Pia stumbled forward but didn’t fall. Panting, she glared at Zoran. Bitter hatred shone in her gaze. She wiped her sore chin. There was blood when she drew her hand away.

They stood for a long time, staring at the other. Slowly, Zoran took a deep breath.

“What am I to do with you, Pia?” he asked softly.

The gentleness of his tone took her by surprise, but she quickly recovered. Her jaw throbbed, as she said, “You tell me, Draea Anwealda. That’s your title is it not, oh prison guard.”

“It means Dragon Lord,” Zoran answered, as if not liking the way the title came out of her snarling lips. It wasn’t respect in her voice. “I’m a guard. My official title is Captain of the Guard. I control all the Draig armies. It was you who assumed I was of lower ranking.”

“You let me assume.”

“You never asked.”

Pia’s mouth tightened.

Zoran relaxed. He took in her bloodied face and seemed almost sorry for it. “How’s your jaw?”

Her answer was a stubborn scowl.

“Gods’ bones, Pia,” Zoran said in frustration. “I’m not trying to be a tyrant. I’m trying to protect you. It’s not safe for you out at the training ground. Accidents happen all the time. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Have you ever thought that I don’t want your protection,” Pia said. “And if it’s the men you’re afraid of, don’t be. I can handle them. It’s not like they see me for anything more than one of the guys.”

“What, then, what do you want from me, Pia?”

Pia hesitated. As she looked at him, she didn’t know how to answer. A myriad of emotions flooded her. She wanted his respect. She wanted his...

She took a deep, trembling breath. She wanted him to look at her with longing. She wanted him to think her beautiful—even when she knew she was not. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her.

“Freedom,” she answered simply.

Mistaking her request, he turned his tortured gaze to her. “I can’t give you a divorce. I told you that already.”

“I meant freedom to leave this house, to be myself, and do what I want to do. If you want me as your wife, Zoran, then treat me as a wife, not one of your men. Respect me as your wife. Respect that I’m not some simple woman who is content to cook and clean and stay home all day. That’s not who I am. I was raised on a military training base. I was taught to fight and defend myself. That’s who I am. It’s what I do. It’s all I know how to do.”

“You wish me to treat you as a wife,” Zoran murmured. He braved a step forward. She didn’t run. He watched her carefully, as if ready for her to strike at him. She didn’t. He stopped before her, not touching her, as he said in a low tone that gave her whole body chills, “Yet, you do not act as a wife.”

Pia knew he meant that she didn’t go to him as a wife goes to a husband. She stiffened, too afraid to answer. What could she say?

“You do not kiss me when I ask for it,” Zoran continued. His eyes bore into her, as intimate as a caress of his hand, though he didn’t move to touch her. “You do not look at me with pleasure or desire. You don’t ask me to touch you. You don’t come to touch me.”

With each sentence, his words became softer.

“There’s more to marriage than...” Pia frowned, looking at the floor. She couldn’t say it.

Zoran brooded in silence, waiting for her to speak.

“You ask that of me, yet there’s no honesty between us. I didn’t even know what you do all day until I sneaked out and discovered if for myself. We’re strangers, Zoran. Don’t you see? How can I...? How can we...?”

“All right,” Zoran said, lifting his finger to her shoulder. He trailed his touch lightly down her arm, not pressing forward with his whole hand. “Here’s the deal. You want something. I want something. You give me what I want. I’ll let you have what you want. You’ll be given full freedom to roam outside these walls, so long as you let me know where you are, and so long as you listen to me and heed me. This is my world, Pia. I know the dangers in it.”

Pia froze, instantly rejecting the deal in her head, but agreeing to it in her body.

“What do you want?” she asked, shaking.

“I want you,” Zoran said seriously. Pia gasped at the bold statement. He drew his hand down her side to her quivering ribs. “I want you to answer two questions for me.”

Pia’s expression fell. She wondered at the disappointment curling in her limbs. “Is that your only stipulation?”

Zoran edged closer, letting his hand fall full on her side. Taking his free hand, he brushed at her bloodied chin, wiping it partially clean. “Do you want there to be more?”

“No.” Pia shook her head. It was a lie.

“You’re sure?” he persisted. He worked his hand beneath her black shirt to her waist.

Pia tried not to tremble. Was it just her or did his mouth draw closer? She stared at it, wishing he’d force another kiss on her. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Do we have a deal then?” Zoran asked. “You’ll answer two questions—fully and honestly?”

Pia thought of her freedom. Slowly, she nodded her head. Her voice was weak, as she answered, “Deal.”

“Tell me how you got this scar.”

Pia blinked. The question took her by surprise and she jerked away from his searching hand. She said simply, “It was a knife. Next question?”

Zoran’s arms fell to his sides, away from her. He tried to hide his disappointment. He wouldn’t be put off. “Whose?”

“Is that your second question?”

“No, it’s part of the first.”

Pia would’ve sworn his eyes again changed to a golden hue. The genetic anomaly made it hard for her to think straight.

“The deal was for fully and honestly,” Zoran said. “Whose knife?”

“My father’s,” Pia answered. Her jaw and her eyes hardened against him.

“Your father,” he repeated, somewhat awed. “Why did you call it a gift?”

“It was the last thing he ever gave me,” Pia said. Her short hair had come loose in their fight and she nervously pushed it back behind her ears.

“Why?” Zoran’s hand reached to touch her again but she barely noticed it. Her mind drifted into deeper thoughts.

“I answered your question,” Pia’s voice wavered and her eyes cleared. “What is the second?”

“How did you come to owe so much money to Galaxy Brides? Was it gambling debts?”

Pia’s lips tightened and her eyes watered. She looked at him for a long time. When her mouth finally opened to speak, she clipped, “I’ve changed my mind. Keep your freedom. I don’t want it. If you won’t let me out, I’ll just have to try and find a way to escape again.”

She tried to pull away. Zoran tightened his hold on her waist. “Why won’t you trust me?”

“Could it be because you don’t trust me?” Pia asked. “You keep me prisoner in this house all day. I honestly have no idea why you wanted to marry me. You won’t tell me who you are or what I am—”

“You’re a princess. I’m a prince. We live in a castle with the royal family,” he stated bluntly.

Pia blinked, waiting for his face to break into a teasing grin. It never came.

“Are you serious?”

“Extremely,” Zoran mused with a dry smile that held little pleasure. “You are a princess of the House of Draig. The queen is your mother, the king your father, your husband a prince. This fortress we live in is a palace. I’m the second oldest which makes me the leader of the military and in charge of security and defense.”

“Second?” she asked, listening very intently to everything he said. She could see the truth in his eyes. She was a princess.

“You also have three new brothers,” Zoran continued. His face gave nothing away. It had been his request for honesty and he would seem he could be true to his own word. “Ualan, the oldest will be king when my father dies. Yusef, beneath me in age, is the Captain of the Outlands. Olek, the youngest brother, is ambassador.”

“That’s why the queen was so concerned with my hair,” Pia said. “I didn’t understand it earlier, but she was afraid I was going to embarrass the royal family. That’s why you don’t take me anywhere, isn’t it? You’re ashamed of me.”

Zoran didn’t answer as she rushed on.

“Prince Zoran,” Pia said, shaking her head. “I should’ve known. That’s why you don’t want to divorce me. You’re a prince and it would disrupt your precious family honor and reputation. You’d much rather hide your hideous, ugly wife away from view.”

“That’s not true. I’m not ashamed of you. I just don’t know if I can trust you. You don’t seem to care about my family’s honor or your own. You have no concern about how your actions will reflect on our reputations. You just do whatever you want, never listening to what I say.”

“That’s because you haven’t said anything to me,” Pia said. “You didn’t tell me I was a princess and that my actions affected a kingdom.”

“Would you have cared?” Zoran eyed her hair. “I asked you not to cut your hair, and you did anyway.”

“No, you ordered me not to do it. Everything you’ve said to me has been an order not a request. There’s a difference, Zoran. If you would’ve spoken to me reasonably, I might have listened to you. I might not have done it.”

“I told you it would be considered a disfigurement,” Zoran defended. “I told you it would shame both of us.”

“Can we get over the hair already?” Pia asked in despair. “I know it’s ugly. I’m ugly. I get it. There’s nothing I can do about it. It will grow back. Now let the matter drop!” Pia lost some of her fight. She shook her head at him, turning to walk away. “Just leave me alone, tyrant.”

Zoran watched his wife go. Her dejected expression tore at his chest and an unfamiliar anguish overcame him. No one had ever dared to stand up to him like she had. She aggravated him, made him mad with lust, and taunted him to the point of explosion. She was bold, cunning, smart and strong.

When he’d seen her on the field, openly defying him in the place he commanded, he’d never wanted to kiss anyone as badly in his life. At that thought, he frowned. He’d seen the look on Hume’s face as well as the others. They were all smitten. And why wouldn’t they be? She was absolutely ravishing.

Zoran lowered his head, sighing. He could tell she really believed what she said. She truly didn’t know the effect she had on his men, on him. She had no clue as to her own feminine power. She had no idea what her bright, open smiles could lead men to believe. He’d been young once. He knew the hormones that raged within the younger soldiers. If they thought they had a chance with such a woman, married or not, they would take it without thinking.

Zoran began to follow her. He had to touch her, needed to, even if it was the barest of caresses. But, remembering her parting expression, he stopped. Perhaps it would be best if he left her alone like she asked, at least for the moment. Their tempers were too hot and they’d best cool before attempting, yet again, to figure out how to communicate.

Who was he fooling?

Zoran moved to follow her. He would not leave things unsaid.

Chapter 19

“Pia, wait,” Zoran demanded.

Pia stiffened. For once his words sounded more like a request than a command and so she didn’t deny him. She stopped, her head hanging down, and refused to look at him. She was too embarrassed.

“There’s more I have to tell you.” he said, as if needing to come clean.

“Oh, there’s more?” Pia sighed, weary from their verbal battles. She would much rather use her fists. Sarcastically, she added, “What? Do you have another wife somewhere? Some children hiding out in the next room? Oh, don’t tell me, there’s some evil monster on the loose and I got voted as the sacrificial offering.”

Zoran spun her around into his arms. She stiffened in surprise, but he didn’t back down. His eyes flashed with liquid fire.

“Quit saying things like that. I would never let harm befall you. You’re my only wife. It’s my duty to protect you,” Zoran said, tenderly brushing back a strand of her hair.

“I don’t need your protection, Zoran. I can take care of myself. I have always taken care of myself.”

“Then take something else from me,” he urged. Emboldened when she didn’t struggle to be free of his hold, he pulled her closer.

Pia shivered. Her eyes closed as he claimed her mouth with his. The kiss was soft, taking his time as he moved his mouth over hers. Slowly, she tried to respond. Her lips parted, offering herself to him.

Zoran growled, deepening the kiss. He found her hair, crushing her mouth to his. Pia moaned lightly. She lifted her hands to nestle against his strong, protecting arms. Maybe being protected wouldn’t be so bad.

To her surprise, Zoran tore his lips away with a frustrated growl. Her body ached, begging him on. She lifted her hand to stop him but then pulled it back to her side.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’re trying.”

He looked at her, confusion tapering through his gaze.

Pia pulled out of his arms, pushing at his forearms until he let her go. “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. It’s fine. I understand and—”

Zoran pulled her back into his fierce embrace. Pia moaned in surprise of the suddenness of it. This time, when he kissed her, he was none too gentle, letting her feel his slashing teeth, his hungry mouth, the onslaught of his uncontrolled desire.

He readily found her breasts, tearing at her shirt to get to them. Her scent was in his head, drugging him until he was trapped in a web of mindless obsession. He pulled away, only long enough to find a place to lay her down. Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her to the couch. Pia trembled, as he immediately came over her.

His lips were on her neck, eagerly licking and biting at her tender flesh. He found her waistband, pulling away long enough to strip her pants from her body in one swift movement. Then, when she lay naked beneath him, he devoured her breasts—teasing the tips with this tongue and teeth.

Pia gasped, her hands weakly falling back in surprise at his onslaught of kisses. Zoran groaned, a truly animalistic sound, against her. She didn’t hold back for long. Her fingers sought to fulfill an adventure of their own. Trailing over hard muscles and sinewy flesh covered in his thick tunic, she urged him to her.

Zoran’s hands found her scar. He followed it with his mouth. Licking it, he trailed down her side. Pia’s stomach tightened and arched.

“Argh,” he growled passionately, as if in pain. He came over her once more. “I want you. I want to be inside of you. I must have you, now.”

Pia shivered at the hoarse admission. Suddenly, his hands were at his waist, freeing his all too potent arousal. His arm mindlessly pushed her leg over his shoulder to open her up fully to him. Now that she didn’t fight him, he didn’t hold back.

His mouth dipped to taste the wetness of her center fire, making sure she was ready for him. Her hips bucked against his hot mouth and his warrior’s body took it as an invitation to conquer. “Pia,” he moaned into her panting lips. “I can’t hold back...ah. I need to be inside you. I need to feel you.”

Pia tensed. Excitement and fear flooded her blood, sped faster by her racing heart. She didn’t understand him. He sounded as if he was in agony but looked like he enjoyed the suffering.

Zoran lifted up, guiding himself to her moist opening. He tested her depths. The tight muscles of her body squeezed the tip of his erection.

“So hot,” he said in approval. “So tight.”

She gasped. He was a big man and, though her body sought his, his size hurt.

“Zoran?” she asked, confused by the pain where need had so readily been. Her sex tightened, making it worse.

He pushed a little more, his hips working in shallow strokes as he drove persistently deeper.

Pia quivered in pain. She pushed at him, her caresses becoming resistant, as she was frightened by his uncontrolled claiming. Her legs flailed against his side, trying to knock him out of her.

With a flex of his hips, he embedded himself deeply into her. And, though she didn’t accept his full length, it was enough to cause a conquering yell of satisfaction to escape Zoran’s lips.

Pia’s eyes widened. Her body burned with liquid fire, a white hot pain that tore her apart. His body withdrew. Reacting on instinct more than reason, she swung viciously for his head. Zoran grunted in surprise, poised to thrust again. Pia smacked him another time, slamming his face with her fist so hard that he fell off the couch.

One of Zoran’s hands reached for her in his confusion as the other braced his weight against the floor. His body tensed, wanting its release desperately. In his fervor he forgot that he should slow down. He forgot he’d told himself that she needed him to be gentle. The way her hands pulled at him, it didn’t appear as if she wanted him to be gentle. He had felt her body jerk beneath him and thought she urged him on.

Zoran wanted her badly, always wanted her, and had tried to hold back from her. But when she moaned against his mouth, it was like a siren’s song calling him to his death. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t refuse the passionate link between them. His body was on fire, taking over his mind until he couldn’t think to slow his assault on her body.

Everything about this woman drove him to madness. He lost all control.

When she squeezed him, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. He wanted to feel her again. He pushed up, ready to rejoin her on the couch. But then he witnessed the look on her face. She was terrified of him.

Pia jerked into action. Taking off across the room, she ran naked into the bathroom. The paper thin door wouldn’t be able to stop him if he wanted to go after her.

Zoran watched her run, his head clearing of the pleasurable fog she’d worked around him. He felt the wetness of her on his body. But, he could also detect her fear of him and was mortified by it. He heard her scurrying across the bathroom floor to get away from him. Looking down, he froze. What had he done? The wetness he felt was her blood.

“Pia,” he groaned hoarsely. The evidence of his deeds glared at him from his still risen shaft. What had he done? It wasn’t lost on him that he, who’d sworn to protect her, had been the one to hurt her. Never had any of the women he’d been with bled. Remembering how unusually tight she had been, the desire drained from his limbs. His body burned and he ached to go after her, to protect and comfort her. He walked toward the bathroom, unsure what to say.

Zoran stood outside the bathroom door for a long time, feeling the rush of her agony wash over him and believing it was his doing. He wanted to run away from the torture of it. He didn’t run. He stayed, moving to a chair and opening himself up to the torment of it. He made himself take in her suffering. Then, he heard her cry, a soft sob she tried to muffle. He cursed himself for a monster, truly hating himself for the first time in his life.

Pia cowered on the bathroom floor, panting in apprehension. Her stomach throbbed and twitched with each movement, but she ignored it. She’d been in worse pain. What scared her was the look on his face when he’d done it. He hadn’t been the commander she was used to dealing with. His face had contorted in bittersweet agony. His eyes had glowed pure gold with an intent she didn’t understand. He’d wanted to control her, to conquer her and claim her. Pia couldn’t relinquish that kind of control. Staring at the door, she waited to see if he would come for her. He didn’t.

As she relaxed, she realized her body didn’t hurt as badly as before. There had been pleasure before the pain, a sweetness that stirred in her limbs anew. Looking down at her body, she saw blood on her thighs. The doctors had said something about stimulating her internal tissues, of the medicines affecting all her underlying structures. Had they done something to her sex? Is that what they’d been trying to say as she drifted in the twilight of drugged sleep? She stumbled toward the hot spring. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she saw her ugly face staring back at her. She saw the blood on her chin from the fight.

Princess Pia, she thought with a look of utter disgust. You’re no more a princess than a batidae is a prince.

How could he have looked at her like he had? She could barely bring herself to look at her reflection.

With angry jerks, she cursed herself for what she was. She pulled at her hair, hating herself for cutting it, for disfiguring herself more in his eyes. How could he look at her? How could he need her? She didn’t deserve it.

Pia stepped into the bath, scrubbing angrily at her skin to wash the blood away. And when the blood was gone, she kept scrubbing, trying to wash the pain from her aching heart.

Chapter 20

Pia awoke the next morning on the bathroom floor, curled in the warmth of Zoran’s overlarge robe. Her body was so stiff from the hard stone that it took a moment before she could even move. Her eyes opened, automatically going to the door. She’d stayed up most of the night, watching to see if Zoran would come after her. He didn’t, and Pia wasn’t sure that what she felt was relief.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed to standing. Her stomach twinged slightly and she remembered all too vividly what had caused the ache. Going to the bathroom door, she lightly slid it open. Hesitantly, she poked her head outside.

“Pia?”

Pia jumped to hear her name. Glancing over, she saw Zoran was sitting on the couch. Her first reaction was to slam the door and continue hiding out like a coward. But Pia wasn’t a coward. She stood tall, regally wrapping his robe around her trembling body as she looked at him. Her confidence wavered as she saw his handsome face, and she had to look away.

Zoran looked as if had waited all night for her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and stepped out of the bathroom. There was an awkward silence. Pia’s hand tapped along the outside of her upper thigh. When he didn’t speak, she glanced up.

“Pia...?” he began, his voice full of questions. There was a rift between them and neither one knew how to cross it.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She hesitantly walked toward him. Zoran didn’t move. Stopping several paces away, she said the only thing she could think of, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Slowly, he stood and said, “All right, I’ll go, Pia.”

When he turned from her, Pia had the strangest urge to run to him. Her eyes devoured him now that he walked away. Zoran disappeared into the bedroom. When he came out, she hadn’t moved. He’d changed his tunic, donning another black one.

He looked at her from across their home. “You’re free to leave. I’ll reprogram the door for you.”

Pia nodded weakly. She wanted to go to him, but her fear of rejection and ridicule held her back.

Zoran said a few commands and then turned to her.

Pia repeated the words, “open” and “shut” at his signals. Her voice was hoarse and strained but the door obeyed her.

Before he left, he nodded once at her and said, “I’m sorry, Pia. I never meant to hurt you.”

Pia’s legs weakened as the door shut behind him. She sunk wearily to the floor. Her heart poured out of her and she cried anew.

Zoran had sent word to the field that he would be late. He wanted to wait for his wife to come out of the bathroom on her own. When she did, he hadn’t known what to say to her. He’d seen her fear, felt her rejection, and it hurt him deeply. He still wanted her so badly, and she could barely bring herself to look him in the eye.

She didn’t want him there. He couldn’t blame her. There was nothing he could say to appease her. How could he even begin to say he was sorry?

Zoran didn’t come home that day. Pia went only as far as the outer halls, stopping to look for him, debating whether or not she should try to find him. She wanted to say she was sorry, too. That she shouldn’t have run away. That she could now remember the pleasure of his touch and wanted to be a wife to him, if he could still bring himself to have her. She turned around each time, too much of a coward to make it to the end of the hall.

Zoran also didn’t come home that night. Pia waited up for him, falling asleep on the couch sometime during the early morning hours. When she awoke the next morning, she was still alone.

Zoran took the soldiers through night drills, letting them rest in hour-long shifts. The war games were normally great fun, though Zoran’s heart wasn’t in his work. He watched with a melancholy the men could easily see on their leader’s stern face. As dawn approached, Agro, who was always one of the first to volunteer for the night games, drew near him.

“I’ll finish up here,” Agro said quietly. “Why don’t you go to your wife?”

Zoran’s expression was all the answer he needed. He shook his head in denial, continuing to yell out his orders. Agro stepped back from the man, clearly hating to see the commander’s raw pain and self-loathing.

Chapter 21

Pia lifted her hands in the air, slowly falling back to arch her stomach before her legs moved over into a leisurely back flip. The exercise was helping her sore insides to relax, though it did nothing for her downtrodden spirits. She watched the exercise room ceiling go past as she fluidly repeated the process. On the third try, she froze, stomach arched. Someone was at the door.

She flipped herself around to her feet. Brushing her hands, as she rushed through the living room to the front hall, she yelled, “Open.”

Even though she should’ve known it wouldn’t be Zoran, she was still disappointed. However, soon her disappointment turned to surprise.

“Nadja?” Pia asked, blinking to see the woman she’d known from the ship.

“Hello, Pia,” Nadja said, her voice soft. Her light brown hair was pulled neatly back and her blue eyes shone pleasantly. She held a small bag in her nervously twisting hands. When Pia only looked at her, Nadja asked, “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, yeah,” Pia said. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have been cooped up in here for so long, I forgot my manners.”

Nadja smiled, her nervous stance seeming to relax. Pia ordered the door shut behind her.

“Can I get you anything?” Pia began to move toward the kitchen. “I think we have juice.”

“No, I’m fine.” Nadja looked around the home. “I see you were assigned the princess suite, too.”

Pia chuckled, relieved to learn that someone as tolerable as Nadja was a princess. She’d been worried she’d have to spend the rest of her life surrounded by women like the brassy Gena talking about breast augmentations. “You, too?”

Nadja nodded and an instant camaraderie was struck up between the women.

“It’s so nice to see another woman from the ship,” Nadja said as Pia led her in. “This planet has entirely too many men, which wouldn’t be so bad except they are all so mannish.”

Pia laughed, instantly understanding. “So which prince did you get?”

“Olek.”

“Ah, the ambassador.” Pia nodded.

“What about you?”

“Zoran.” Then to change the subject, she asked, “What do you have there?”

“Oh!” Nadja lifted the bag. “Before I show you, I have to apologize in advance.”

Pia frowned.

“It was my husband’s request,” Nadja said. She reached into the bag and pulled out a hair extender. “He said your husband cut off your hair and asked if I could…” The woman hesitated in embarrassment.

“If you could grow it back for me,” Pia said with a wry grin when Nadja didn’t finish. The woman nodded. “Zoran didn’t cut my hair, I did.”

“Oh,” Nadja exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I like your hair short.”

“It’s all right,” Pia laughed. Nadja had been quiet on the ship, but she found she liked the woman. She was one of those rare creatures who radiated a kind of goodness not often found in the circles Pia traveled. “I guess it’s called disfigurement. It means I shamed myself or something. You should see the looks the people gave me when I went outside. It was like an evil spirit came into their midst. I was waiting for mothers to rush their children away screaming.”

Nadja giggled. “Well, it’s a planet of men. Go figure they’d come up with a tradition to keep their women looking soft and feminine.”

“The queen stopped by just to look at it,” Pia continued with vast amusement. “I thought she was going to throw up on me.”

“Queen Mede was probably mad at her son. She says the princes are a handful,” Nadja admitted. “She isn’t so bad. From what I can tell, her intentions appear genuine.”

Pia arched a brow in disbelief.

“So, do you want me to grow it for you?” Nadja asked, lifting the extender. “If anything, it should give us something to do today.”

“Why not,” Pia answered. She thought of Zoran. He really did seem to like her longer hair. Suddenly, the idea of pleasing him excited her. She glanced at Nadja, eyeing her in consideration.

“What?” Nadja questioned, looking down her front.

“Do you think you could help me with the other stuff too?” Pia asked, her voice dipping shyly.

“Other stuff?” Nadja questioned in surprise. “What other stuff?”

Pia waved her hand at Nadja. “You know, beauty stuff—dresses, hairstyles, makeup.”

Nadja smiled. “Sure, it would be my pleasure. But, honestly, I don’t think you need all that.”

Pia looked down.

“I mean,” Nadja corrected, “you have a strong, natural way about you that the men around here seem to respond to. I wish I could be more like that.”

“What?” Pia furrowed her brow, amazed anyone could be jealous of her. “You want me to teach you how to defend yourself?”

Nadja’s face lit up. “Oh, could you? I mean, you’ll probably hate teaching me. I don’t even know…I don’t know anything.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Pia found she really would enjoy the lessons. Fighting was the one thing she could do well, and that she could return a favor to Nadja pleased her greatly.

Nadja bounced in giddy anticipation. “All right, let’s get started.”

Pia felt like a changed woman. After disappearing for a few minutes, Nadja brought back a servant laden with makeup and hair accessories. Pia confessed that dresses were being made for her, and Nadja sent the man to the village to see if they were finished.

Nadja extended her hair down past her shoulders. It wasn’t as long as before but it was a nice compromise. Nadja also taught her a few easy tricks for pulling the hair into different styles and showed her how a little darkening of her eyes could really bring them out, though she continually claimed Pia didn’t need the makeup.

Pia showed Nadja a couple of self-defense moves, promising to teach her more at a later date when they were more properly dressed for it. Afterwards, Nadja had invited Pia to come over for dinner. Pia refused. Nadja nodded in understanding without even needing to hear the reason.

Pia waited, all dolled up, for Zoran to come home. The dresses weren’t finished, but the seamstress had sent word that they would be delivered the next day. She waited in a comfortable outfit of cotton pants and a tight blue shirt. Zoran didn’t show and it was getting late.

Pia, unable to stand waiting any longer, started for the door yelling at it to open. Stepping out into the hall, she paused. A soldier was coming toward her.

“Sir Hume,” Pia said in surprise.

Hume stopped, looking up at her hair and face. A slight smile came to his features as he bowed. He stared at her, refusing to look down to the floor. “My lady, Prince Zoran wished me to inform you that he has been called away on duty.”

“Duty?” she asked in surprise. “What duty?”

“I’m sorry, my lady, I do not know,” Hume said. “The king sent him away an hour ago.”

“And when will he be back?” she asked, frowning. “Can you tell me that?”

“Two days, my lady, maybe more,” Hume said. “He wished me to tell you that if you had a need for anything, to call on this.”

Pia took the hand communicator he gave her. Turning it over in her palm, she studied it and frowned.

“The queen will be happy to assist you.” Hume again bowed.

“Wait,” Pia ordered to stop his retreat. Grimacing, she asked, “The queen?”

“Yes,” he said. “She possesses the other communicator. Just push the button if you have need of her.”

“Great,” Pia mumbled wryly. She watched the man as he again bowed. Backing up, he stared at her, grinning like a fool. At his look, Pia frowned at him, wondering if Hume had suddenly gone mad. He backed up to the end of the hall and she said, “Uh, thanks.”

Going back inside, she set the communicator aside with no intention of actually using it.

Chapter 22

Zoran was exhausted. He hadn’t slept for three days. Gripping the center horn of his mount, he swung up behind the beast’s bare shoulders. The ceffyl’s wide back shifted low at the weight of its warrior rider, used to the rough handling. His fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of its long tongue. It had the eyes of a reptile, the face and hooves of a beast of burden, and the body of a small elephant. It was wickedly fast for an animal of its size and equally as deadly.

The ceffyl’s hisses kept most of the large swamp life at bay. Its thick hide could withstand the bite of the poisonous givres that swam freely in this part of the kingdom. Zoran had been all over the swamplands, tracking the Var scent to the outer edges of Draig territory. The thick moss-covered trees dripped with moisture from the recent rainfall and a hot steamy fog hung over in dense patches.

Zoran lifted his feet before him as the animal trudged its way through deeper water. Its foot sank slightly stirring up a nest of red and black tailed givres. The ceffyl howled in annoyance but kept moving to drier land.

He frowned, letting his feet slide down over the sides of his mount, ignoring how the swamp water made his pants stick to the animal’s sides. He longed for home and his bed. His mission had been fruitless. Whoever had tried to break into the royal offices was long gone.

He wondered if Pia would welcome him back, and briefly considered sleeping in his small office on the practice field. Looking up at the sky, he knew he couldn’t, for the same reason he had to turn back home without completely tracking his prey. The coronation was tomorrow night and he needed to set things right with Pia before then.

Not knowing what he would say to her when he saw her, Zoran made the last leg of the journey home.

Zoran left his mount in the stables. He ignored the soldiers as he passed them on the practice field. Coming to the knife post, he glanced briefly at the gathered crowd. For a moment, his heart stopped and he searched for Pia. She wasn’t there. It was his brother, Ualan, and Agro who drew the crowd.

Seeing him, Ualan nodded in greeting. His brother looked exhausted, and his frown only deepened as Agro spoke to him.

Zoran nodded back. He was too tired to do much else.

“Hey,” Zoran heard Agro taunt Ualan when the prince tried to leave the field. “What about eyes closed?”

Zoran couldn’t help the slight smile when Ualan closed his eyes and spun, blindly throwing the blades as he turned. Four landed in the pattern of a cross on the post, the last landed in between Agro’s feet. Agro jumped back with a hearty laugh of amusement. Ualan quietly nodded and continued down the path to the castle.

Agro gave an impish grin and waved at Ualan’s back. Zoran had left the man in charge of the training. It seemed training, to Agro, meant field games. Before Zoran could say anything about it, Agro commanded the men gruffly, “Ach now, you pups, back to work.”

“I see you are working them hard,” Zoran called, amused. He yawned, watching the men depart.

“Ach,” Agro grumbled good-naturedly. He picked the blade out of the ground. “You’ve worked them hard enough to last a year. What’s wrong with a little sport now and then? If you lightened up, maybe your face wouldn’t look so damned ugly.”

Zoran chuckled. “Me, ugly?”

“Aye, you,” Agro nodded. He went to the post and pulled out the rest of the blades. “I think it’s your temper as of late. Half the men are scared to cross your path for fear you’ll work them into the ground.”

Agro absently threw the blades at the post. They all hit in random order. Retrieving them, Agro gave the blades to Zoran. The prince looked at them briefly before tossing them out of old habit. The blades landed in a straight line.

“Is it the wife?” Agro asked perceptively.

Zoran took a deep breath. Suddenly, everything rushed out of him in a frustrated confession.

“She’s, argh, she’s so aggravating at times and so damned ravishing at others. I can hardly keep my head straight. I’m trying, but I don’t understand what she wants. One minute she looks at me like I should kiss her, the next like I’m insane for trying. Hot, cold, hot, cold, she makes my head spin in circles until I can hardly see straight.” Zoran frowned. Agro chuckled knowingly, leaving the knives in the post. Zoran continued, “I’m a man, Agro, a warrior. I’ve outsmarted and outguessed some of the worthiest of adversaries. I’ve conquered entire armies against the worst odds, but I can’t seem to conquer her. I can’t figure her out.”

“Hmm,” Agro mused. He walked to the post and pulled the knife blades.

“You’re married,” Zoran said, forlorn. “Are all married women like this?”

Agro chuckled as if at a private joke. A wealth of husbandly wisdom filtered in his eyes. When he came back, he threw the knives and said thoughtfully, “Maybe the problem is that a woman doesn’t need to be conquered, Draea Anwealda.”

Zoran’s brow furrowed in thought.

Agro turned to give the last blade to his friend. “Maybe she needs to be won.”

Pia flinched, barely making a sound as the medic, Tal, sealed the gash in her side with his laser. She lay on her couch, arm raised above her head. Her hair was pulled back into a bun for exercising and her clothes were lightly drenched with sweat. Lifting up to watch the medic work, she gave a hard sigh.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to deaden the pain, my lady?” the medic asked when she jerked at a particularly deep section of the wound.

“No,” Pia answered between her tightened lips. Sweat beaded her brow, but she answered, “It’s fine. Just keep going.”

Nadja stood behind the medic, worrying her hands. Her eyes filled with what looked like tears. “I’m so sorry, Pia. I didn’t mean to kick you that hard.”

Pia chuckled, sucking in a breath as she was again seared with the laser. Refusing to cry out at the pain, she said, “It’s nothing, Nadja, quit fretting. I should have been ready for it. You’ve got some power in those legs of yours. Next time, we’ll just make sure we’re nowhere near the sword display.”

Nadja relaxed some, though her face was still pulled tight.

Pia closed her eyes waiting for the man to finish. Hearing the door slide up, her eyes opened. Instantly, she moved to stand. The laser bumped and seared off course. She frowned slightly. The medic huffed and turned it off.

“You have to sit still,” he ordered.

“Zoran.” Pia ignored the medic as she stared at her husband in the doorway. He appeared tired but still incredibly breathtaking. He scanned the room, glancing over Nadja and the medic. Black circles marred the skin beneath his light brown eyes. Pia bit her lips, wanting to say so much, wanting to apologize for overreacting the other night, wanting more than anything to give it another try. But the words stuck in her throat. Now was not the time.

Coming forward, he eyed Pia’s bloody side. His wet hair was brushed back from his face. “What happened? Who did this?”

“It...it was an accident,” Nadja said. She trembled before the man as he looked at her. Slowly, she glanced at Pia.

Taking pity on the woman, Pia motioned for Nadja to leave. “Nadja, thank you for visiting. I hope you’ll see me again soon.”

“Pia, I’ll see you later,” Nadja said.

“Open!” Zoran barked, opening the door to let the woman out.

“Thanks, Nadja,” Pia tried to give the woman a smile, but Nadja had already turned away. At the medic’s insistence, Pia laid back down to let him finish. As an afterthought, she called to the woman, “Remember to practice!”

“Pia?” Zoran asked.

“You’re wet,” she said, very aware of Tal’s presence.

“I stopped by my parent’s to report. I bathed there before coming home because I was covered in swamp.” He eyed the wound, as if assuring himself she was going to live. “What happened?”

She frowned, ready for a lecture. “It’s nothing. I was showing Olek’s wife how to kick. She accidentally knocked me into your sword stand when I was distracted by something else. It was a simple mistake.”

Zoran glanced at the exercise room.

The medic finished and Pia sat up.

“Don’t worry. Your precious weapons are unharmed. Nadja cleaned it up.” She’d meant it to be light, but her tone was a little too harsh in her nervousness and she ended up sounding bitter.

Frowning, he glanced at Tal, clearly not wanting to discuss any marital discontentment in front of the man.

“Try to take it easy for the next couple of days, my lady,” the medic said, putting his handheld medical unit back into his bag. “I’ll come back in a week to smooth out the scar. If you like I can get the other one, too.”

Tal nodded at her ribs. Pia hastily pulled her shirt down over them.

“No, it’s old,” she shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Draea Anwealda,” Tal said to Zoran, standing. He leaned over to grab his medic bag.

“Tal,” Zoran acknowledged, tilting his head to walk him out. Pia watched the men, before turning to examine Tal’s handiwork. The scar was thin. Compared to the burns, she hardly noticed it.

Zoran tried to remain calm. He didn’t care about his weapons. Pia was all that mattered.

In case she could hear them as he escorted Tal to the door, Zoran asked in the Qurilixian language, “How is she?”

Tal answered in kind, “She’ll heal fine, Draea Anwealda. The wound was deep and she should take it easy.” The medic frowned, glancing back toward Pia on the couch before turning to the prince.

“What is it?” Zoran insisted.

“Nothing really.” Tilting his head, he asked, “Has Lady Pia had any extensive surgeries?”

“Why?” Zoran too glanced at Pia. She poked at her ribs, grimacing after each jab. It didn’t stop her from repeating the process.

“It’s just her skin, my lord,” the medic answered. “It’s normal but it appears to have been altered recently. The levels are healthy, like a newborn’s, but when I took the laser to it, it didn’t want to heal as if it had been worked over quite extensively within the last six months. We usually only see such occurrences with post-operative patients. I had to set the beam fairly high. The condition isn’t noticeable except...well, except when she needs medical attention like this.”

“She hasn’t said anything to me. Did you ask her about it?”

“She said no, but that’s what puzzles me. Her tolerance for pain is incredibly high—too high, especially for what I have seen in the other non-Draig women. The laser level I used would’ve made grown Draig warriors black out from pain. She barely even flinched.”

Zoran glanced at Pia again. She was stretching her arm. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she lowered it down, testing the wound’s limitations.

“I took a reading of her nerve endings to make sure there’s no damage in them,” Tal continued. “She’s completely healthy—very healthy in fact. She felt what I did, only she withstood it.”

“Thank you,” Zoran said, puzzled by what the man told him.

“Whatever she’s been through,” the medic continued as he turned to leave, “it must have been something terrible.”

“Thank you,” Zoran repeated.

“What was that all about?” Pia asked when Zoran came back inside, frowning absently as she lowered her shirt over her ribs. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No,” Zoran lied, “he was updating me on the soldiers’ medic reports. Some of them got in to a brawl the other night. They’re fine.”

“Oh,” Pia said. She looked down at her lap. “So, is that where you were? With the soldiers?”

Zoran tried to smile, but the three long days of no sleep were getting to him and he yawned instead. “No, I had to attend to some official business for the king. Nothing exciting.”

“Oh,” Pia mumbled.

He wouldn’t tell her any more than that. Zoran yawned again.

“I asked Hume to tell you I would be gone.” When he looked at her, he still wanted her. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, and protect her. Right now, he wanted to curl his body around her and sleep next to her. With shame welling within his chest, he knew that she probably only wished to be protected from him, not by him.

“Yes, he did,” Pia said. “Thank you for the courtesy and for the communicator. I didn’t use it. I left it on the dresser for you.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Pia…” he began.

“No,” she interrupted, moving to stand. He looked so worn. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

Zoran, too exhausted to protest, nodded. He wasn’t sure that anything he tried to say would come out right anyway. He slowly turned to the bedroom, glad that she hadn’t tried to kick him out of his own home. The sight of her beautiful body, her lovely face, stayed with him as he fell onto his bed, instantly asleep.

Pia watched her husband walk away. He could barely keep his eyes open, let alone think coherently enough to have a serious conversation with her. Hearing him fall on the bed, she waited for signs of movement. After a significant time had passed with no sound, she went to peek in on him. He was fast asleep.

Quietly, she sneaked into the bedroom. Her eyes roamed over his body, making sure he was uninjured. She’d been so worried about him the last several days. Luckily, Nadja had kept her so busy with training and beauty lessons, that she hadn’t been able to dwell on it too much.

Pia took the boots off his feet, dropping them on the floor. He sighed, but didn’t wake up, hardly even moved. Then, covering him with a blanket, she hit the button for the curtain dome. Darkness fell over the bedroom as she softly shut the door.

Chapter 23

Zoran groaned, looking around in the darkness. His eyes shifted, piercing through the dark room with ease. Throwing the covers off his body, he noticed he was still dressed but his boots were on the floor. Yawning, he scratched the back of his head, not taking time to wonder about it. Throwing his feet over the side of the bed, he stretched his arms.

Making quick work of his clothes, he changed into more comfortable attire before going quietly to the door. It was in the middle of the night, but he was starving. The front room was just as dark when he passed through. His eyes automatically went to the couch. Pia wasn’t there.

He narrowed his gaze in curiosity as he heard a soft curse coming from the exercise room. A dim light shone from within. Pia was inside, bent over in pain as she gripped her wounded ribs. As he watched, she forced herself to stand, took a fighting stance and kicked lightly into the air. Stiffening, she held the stance for several seconds before letting her leg come back down to the side.

Zoran’s gut twisted into knots. She was so exquisite. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and he noticed the locks looked thicker, longer. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop his feet as he silently crossed over the floor. She jumped in the air and kicked harder, testing her injury’s limits. With a gasp, she fell back, unable to land as gracefully as she’d hoped. Zoran swooped forward on instinct to catch her.

Pia jerked in surprise when she landed in his arms. He slowly righted her, letting her go so she could stand.

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this,” Zoran said, his eyes filled with concern. He moved his hand as if he wanted to touch her, but he held back, remembering all too well the last time he’d held her. “You should be resting and taking it easy.”

“My father always said it’s good to know your limits when you’re wounded.” Pia absently rubbed her side. “Besides, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?”

She sniffed wryly at that. “Uncomfortable couch.”

Zoran chuckled. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to sleep on the couch, that she could sleep with him on the bed, but thought better of it. She would surely take the gesture the wrong way—even if a part of him meant it the wrong way. After what had happened, he still couldn’t help it, he wanted her. Only now he wasn’t sure he deserved her.

“How about you?” she asked. “I was sure you’d sleep through tomorrow.”

“Hungry.” He grinned, pleased they weren’t fighting.

“Ah.” Moving past him, she shot him a sidelong glance. “Good plan.”

Zoran watched her go by, before following her to the kitchen. As she rummaged through the refrigerator, he hopped up on a counter to study her.

“What do you feel like?” she asked, peeking up from over the door.

Looking at her mouth, he murmured, “Something sweet.”

Pia smirked and shook her head in denial. “You didn’t buy anything sweet. You bought healthy food.”

Zoran laughed. Reaching over his head, he pushed the cabinet behind him open. Blindly searching, he arched his back and dug to the back of the top shelf. Pia shut the refrigerator door and came over to watch him. His shirt lifted as he moved, revealing a teasing peek of his muscular stomach. Her eyes drifted down to his waist. A victorious smile dawned on his face, as he drew out a bag.

“What’s that?” Pia asked, her gaze moving back up to his.

Zoran smiled, drawing out a sugared biscuit. Pia’s eyes rounded. He wiggled it at her. “Just a little something I took from my father’s office. It’s my grandmother’s old recipe.”

“Oo, I want one,” she insisted, holding out her hand.

He eyed her, a teasing light coming over him. “No, this is my last one.” To prove his point he dropped the empty bag in the sink.

“Hey,” Pia protested. “I can’t believe you were hiding those all this time. Here, I have been eating nothing but fruit and vegetable salads. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, you’re not a vegetarian are you? Because I’m sorry, but if I have the forest to hunt, I’m going to get a steak.”

“No,” he said. “I just haven’t been hunting in a while so there’s no meat. The butcher rations out his portions fairly and I already brought home what little I could.”

Pia smiled. “Can we go?”

“Where?” he asked, making a great show of looking at the cookie and smelling it. A big, contented smile crossed over his features while toying with her.

“Hunting,” Pia insisted.

“We’d have to camp,” Zoran said. “All the good meat is to the North this time of year.”

Her expression answered, so?

“Do you know how to track?” Zoran asked.

“Sure.”

“Sure?”

“It depends on what I’m tracking.”

Camping in isolation with the beautiful vixen before him didn’t sound so bad, though hunting for food had no place in his sudden fantasy.

“I’ll see if I can arrange it,” he answered.

Pia smiled brightly. “Now, hand over that cookie. If you only want to look at it, I’ll draw you a picture.”

“What? You want this sugared biscuit right here?” Zoran questioned, his expression filling with mischief. Pia nodded, bringing her hand expectantly closer. He took a bite and moaned dramatically, nodding his head in delight. Talking with his mouth full, he admitted, “Mm, this is really good.”

“Oh, you really are incorrigible!” Playfully, she went to him. Her hand rested on his thigh and her body came between his legs. His brow rose and he lifted the treat above his head. Pia jumped, using his leg for leverage as she tried to grab it.

Zoran laughed, dipping it down within her reach only to snatch it away when she came too close. Pia chuckled, feigning anger. Zoran tilted his head back to take another bite.

“Oh, that’s it,” she said.

She pushed up on his legs and pressed her knee between his thighs. Kneeling over one leg, she tried to steal the sugared biscuit away from him. Zoran crushed the whole thing in his mouth, his cheeks puffing up as he chewed enthusiastically.

“Oh!” she huffed, hitting his chest.

“Careful,” came his muffled warning as she wobbled on her precarious setting. He automatically fitted his hands against her hips to hold her up.

“What else do you have hidden up here?” Pia stretched up, trying to see the top shelf.

Zoran swallowed. Her breasts were really close to his face. His grip tightened on her hips. His body lurched. Unbidden, torturous thoughts entered his mind.

“Ah-hah!” Pia cried in victory, clearly finding the other bag. Her body lowered and his thigh bumped between her legs. A jolt of awareness shot through his body at the intimate contact. Zoran gave her a small, smoldering smile. Pia turned bright red and instantly slid down. Pretending there had been nothing in their shared look, she wiggled the new bag. “I think someone has a sweet tooth.”

“Hey,” Zoran said in instant protest, as if seeing what she had for the first time. He hopped down off the counter to go after her. “Those are mine.”

Her face rounded in mock horror and she took off running with her prize. Calling over her shoulder, she taunted, “Not anymore.”

When Zoran caught up to her she had the bag opened and was beginning to stuff her mouth full. Pia lifted the prize high over her head, turning to keep an eye on him.

“Mees ar verre goomph,” she mumbled her taunt, laughing and covering her mouth.

Zoran swept her into his arms, reaching and grabbing the bag from her. She protested, doing her best to chew and swallow over her fit of laughter.

“Ah, great,” Zoran mourned before turning to her. He pressed her firmly to his chest with one arm as he examined the bag. In his most serious tone, he said, “These were the very last of what I had.”

Pia swallowed, still giggling, “You’re a prince. Can’t you exploit your power and pass a law or something? Or threaten to throw the baker in the dungeon if he doesn’t bake you sugared biscuit cookies?”

Zoran grinned, pleased by the easy way his title passed by her lips. “These things are impossible to get. The queen holds the recipe hostage. She won’t even tell the palace baker.” Taking the opportunity, he said, “Speaking of being a prince, I need to tell you something.”

Pia, as if suddenly realizing he held her closely, artfully pushed back from him. Her expression fell slightly. “I already know about the coronation.”

“Oh?” he questioned in surprise, disappointed by her withdrawal.

“Yeah, Nadja told me. I already know you have to ask me to go and need me to act happy for the sake of the kingdom or whatever.” Pia shrugged. She quickly pulled the bun out of her hair to show him it was longer. “She also grew my hair out for me so I wouldn’t embarrass you.”

Zoran’s eyes dipped over her face. He really wanted to kiss her. His mouth burned with need, as did his body.

“So when is it?”

“Tomorrow night,” he answered. He lifted his hand to touch one of the golden locks. “You don’t mind going, do you?”

“No,” Pia yawned, “it’s fine.”

“It’s late.” Zoran grew braver and touched her cheek. His voice didn’t waver, as he suggested, “Why don’t we go to bed?”

Pia glanced away.

Zoran saw her anxiety and was sorry for it.

“Pia,” he began, softly. An ache started in his chest. He wanted to move closer to her, but held back. “The other night I didn’t mean to hurt you. I...” Zoran looked down her body and sighed, remembering the blood. “Are you...?”

Pia delicately waved the question away. “I’m...it’s fine. I’ve had worse pain. I probably overreacted a little. I wasn’t sure what you...what was happening.”

Zoran frowned.

Pia turned her back on him. “Can we not discuss this? Everything’s fine. I just want to forget about it.”

Zoran nodded, realizing she couldn’t see him.

“Come on.” He drew his hand tenderly to her shoulder. He told himself to win her, not conquer her. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

Pia tensed.

He quickly added, “I promise not to lay a hand on you unless you want me to.”

She let him turn her around to face him. He tried to smile. She shivered.

Pia allowed him to lead her to the bed. The bedroom was still dim when they crawled under the covers. Zoran’s eyes shifted so he could study her face in the dark. She looked nervous, staring up at the ceiling. She gripped the coverlet tightly, working the smooth material. When he spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Sleep well, Pia.”

“Good night.” Pia shivered. She really wanted him to lay his hands on her. Her body hummed with desire for him, but she didn’t know how to ask for it. She looked toward him, searching in the dark but unable find his face.

Turning her back toward him, she did her best to fall asleep.

Chapter 24

Zoran was gone for most of the day. Nadja came over in the afternoon to help Pia curl her hair and pick out an appropriate dress. Pia made an effort to move around as if nothing had happened. She refused to listen to another of Nadja’s apologies. The woman’s guilt was written all over her face, but Pia didn’t hold a grudge over a silly accident.

Blinking as Nadja darkened her eyelashes, Pia asked, “You said your father was a doctor, right?”

Nadja glanced down wearily from her task. “Uh-huh.”

“Would it be possible for, say, a doctor to make your body more...sensitive to...?” Pia frowned. How to phrase such a thing?

“Just be blunt,” Nadja said. “I never knew you to skirt around an issue.”

“I want to know if a doctor altered me to make me feel...lust,” Pia stated, her mouth twisting to hide her mortification.

Nadja giggled as if she couldn’t help it.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” Pia mumbled, turning away to look in the mirror. She eyed Nadja’s handiwork with forced indifference.

“Are you feeling lust?” Nadja asked.

“I don’t know.” Pia tried to dismiss the topic, sorry she brought it up. “Forget I asked about it.”

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said. “No, it’s not possible for a doctor to do something to you to make you feel lust. The only way I’ve ever heard of is through medicines. But you would have to take them on a regular basis, and more than likely you would know if you were being dosed. Normally there would be telltale side effects. Though, I suppose nerve-ending repair is possible to revive lost sensations, but that would be a surgical repair, not inciting lust where it normally wouldn’t be.”

“Oh.” Pia said, somewhat dejected.

“Did something happen between you and Zoran?” Nadja curled a strand of hair before pulling it up at the sides to create a cascaded of curls around Pia’s face. Pia knew Nadja felt sorry for her, and thought Zoran was a beastly, humorless man. The woman was too polite to say her opinion outright, but Pia picked up on it all the same.

“Nothing, well, we did...and I hit him off,” she admitted. “There was blood.”

“Oh?” Nadja began, then seeing Pia’s meaning in her blushing face, she said, “Oooh.”

“Is there something wrong with me?” Pia asked. She thought that perhaps the bleeding was her fault, like she wasn’t built right or the surgeries had altered her insides.

“Oh, no,” Nadja said softly. “No, there isn’t anything wrong. It was your first time with a man?”

Pia nodded.

“Didn’t your mother...?” Nadja tried to be delicate.

“She died,” Pia stated flatly.

“What about your father?”

“Dead.”

“The blood is normal the first time,” Nadja said. “I don’t know if this helps, but my mother told me once that it means you’re just being broken into sex. The second time shouldn’t be bad and the third time better.”

Pia nodded weakly, before eyeing the formal hairdo in the mirror. “This isn’t going to be too much, is it?”

“It’s a coronation,” Nadja announced. “I think it will do perfectly!”

“All right.” Pia was skeptical, but she had never been to a formal function before. “Just as long as I’m not the only one wearing a dress tonight.”

“Pia,” Zoran called. “Come on, it is time to leave.”

He frowned, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. Pia had been hiding from him ever since he arrived home. At first, she said she was getting dressed, and now she said she was too sick to come out.

“You’ll just have to go without me,” she called. “I’m too nauseous. I think I caught something.”

“Pia—”

“No, Zoran, I’m sorry. Just make my apologies to whomever. Go have fun. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Pia, I need you there,” he insisted. “It’s your coronation. You need to be there for it. Can I at least come in?”

“No—oh, fine,” she ended with a growl, her tone growing stronger with irritation. “But you can’t laugh at me.”

A quizzical expression crossed over Zoran’s features as the sick voice suddenly disappeared into a confident growl. He slid open the bathroom door with one finger.

Pia stood stiffly, her pale face studying at him. Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders in curls. His gaze instantly roamed over her dark red gown. The satin was simplistic, hugging to her frame, parting at mid-thigh to bell out in a sweep of material around her legs. The sleeves were short, and capped over the shoulder. The neck dipped low, sweeping lightly over her breasts to give just enough teasing mystery to instantly drive him mad with desire.

Her eyes wide, she said, “You look so handsome.”

Zoran grinned at her breathless words. Her face flushed red and she shook herself to her senses.

“I can’t go with you,” Pia stated. Frowning, she looked down at her dress as if that could explain everything she was thinking. “I think Nadja overdid the hair and this dress...it’s all wrong.”

Zoran stepped forward, his body lurching with desire. “You look perfect.”

“No, it’s too much,” Pia insisted. “I’ve got those black pants you bought me with the dragon emblem. I’ll wear those.”

Having decided, Pia strode past him. Zoran’s arm shot out catching her about the waist. He curved his arm around her, making her back up so he could continue to look at her. He wasn’t quite done with his examination.

“It’s perfect,” he repeated, giving her a heated look over the satin. He flexed his hand on her waist. Unable to stop himself, he groaned. Leaning over, he cupped her face and kissed her gently. She jumped slightly in surprise. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss. Instantly, her arms wound about his neck in encouragement.

Zoran felt her melting against him and had to pull back. He slid his hand over the satin covered curve of her lower back. If this continued, he wouldn’t be making it much further than the bedroom for the rest of the night, and his father would be livid.

“Um,” he sighed, pulling her back. He licked his lips. “We can’t do this. We’re already late.”

“I don’t have a dragon,” she said, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

“What?” He blinked in confusion, still too busy staring at her shaded lips. He’d never seen her in makeup before. He thought her beautiful either way.

Pia touched the black dragon patch on his chest. “I don’t have a dragon emblem. I think I’m supposed to.”

Zoran chuckled. “Wait, I’ll find you one.”

Pia walked slowly behind him as he went to the bedroom. When he came back he was holding his armband from the Breeding Festival. Pushing at it, he bent it smaller to fit her arm.

“I wish I’d thought to get you some proper jewelry,” Zoran admitted. “But I’m afraid I don’t always remember to think about those kinds of things. This will have to do.”

Pia let him slide it over her wrist, adjusting the dragon to wind around her upper arm. She smiled. She loved it. The jewelry was perfect.

“What’s on your feet?” Zoran asked, seeing her black boots.

Pia grinned. “Can you believe the woman tried to make me wear dress slippers? I had her give me these instead.”

She pulled her skirt to the side to show the knee high black boots over her bare tanned legs. Zoran’s eyes instantly traveled higher to her exposed thigh. If she lifted just a bit higher, he would see the curve of her naked hip. This was going to be a very long night.

“They’re perfect,” he said, his voice a bit husky.

Already he could picture her in the boots and nothing else. Or even better, that dress pushed up over her hips as he took her from behind. His gaze traveled up her waist to her cleavage. How much trouble would he get in if they didn’t show up tonight? Maybe the king wouldn’t notice. Maybe...

Clearing his head, Zoran grunted roughly, “We need to go.”

Chapter 25

Pia was seated between Queen Mede and her husband. Her breath caught every time she looked at Zoran. He was handsome in tight black slacks and a red silk tunic of Lintianese influence. The upright collar was short and separated slightly at the neck. A row of small buttons worked their way down over his chest, stopping at the waist, so that the material could part at the front, and continue down to the knees.

As they’d walked through the main common hall, he’d whispered to her about his home and family. The Draig mountain palace had steep, arched ceilings with the center dome for light. The red stone floor was swept clean. A space was left clear for dancing. Banners of the family crest lined the walls, one for each color of the family lines—purple for the king and queen, black for Yusef, green for Olek, red for Zoran, and blue-gray for Ualan. Each banner had the silver symbol of the dragon boldly woven into it.

Lines of tables reached across the floor for dining, filled with villagers, and attended to by servants who carried endless pitchers of various drinks. Their murmuring voices could be heard all around the hall, as they excitedly awaited the start of the festivities. All of them craned to get a good look at their new princesses sitting at the head table.

Aside from the three princesses, the royal family all wore crowns. The queen tried to talk to her a few times and she answered as politely and distantly as possible. The woman made her uncomfortable. Next to the queen was King Llyr. He spoke mostly to his wife.

Looking past the king, Pia tried to smile at Nadja, but her lips were stiff. She never dreamed she would be set up on display before so many people. Honestly, she hadn’t known what to expect this night. Looking around the hall, at all the curious eyes on her, she shivered.

Prince Olek was next to Nadja. He had a laughing smile and seemed very easy-natured compared to his somber brothers. Pia could instantly see the man’s complete infatuation with his wife. When Nadja wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were all over her. She was happy for her friend. Although, she wasn’t sure Nadja realized it herself.

Next in line was Prince Ualan. She couldn’t tell much from the man’s blank expression and he didn’t pay her any attention. That was fine with Pia. Morrigan, his wife, was next to him. She nodded in Pia’s direction. Pia didn’t know Morrigan well, but returned her acknowledgement with a slight smile.

Morrigan and Ualan had been the last to arrive, just now being seated. From what she gathered, Morrigan had made herself a slave to purge her honor and had come tonight to ask for a royal pardon. She wondered what the woman had done to shame herself.

Smiling wryly down at her drink, she thought, Maybe she cut her hair, too.

Next to Zoran was his brother, Prince Yusef. He was a darker specimen of male beauty, contrasting completely to his lighter toned brothers. He didn’t say much when he was introduced to her and she had merely nodded in return. The man seemed preoccupied, as if his thoughts had nothing to do with the evening at hand and he was just there filling a space at the royal table. His wife was at home, sick.

“It is glad I am that all my sons have found brides. We are a house blessed.” Pia looked over at the king as he spoke. He lifted his goblet proudly to the crowd before continuing, “Preost, crown the princesses.”

Pia shivered as she was given a crown to match Zoran’s, though it was smaller and much more delicate. The preost fit it on her head, and she was almost too scared to move under the unfamiliar weight.

After the preost was finished muttering whatever ceremonial blessing he spoke, servants came around with plates of food, serving the head table first. Pia looked absently at the meal. It was delicate and proper, and made her long even more for a juicy, rare steak. Sighing, she dutifully picked up her fork.

Leaning to Zoran, she whispered, “Does no one hunt in the palace?”

He chuckled but didn’t answer.

Musicians played softly in the background, filling the hall with music. Pia looked them over, before turning to study the crowd. A group of blond warriors in the back caught her attention. The silent group was ignored by most of the hall. Only one servant approached them, seeming to hesitate as he filled their goblets. The men held still, not looking at the servant as he made his way around.

Pia dropped her fork, leaning to grab her drink only to flinch when she realized it was wine and set it back down untouched. Zoran saw the gesture and smiled. He waved his hand to a servant and asked him quietly to bring something other than wine for his wife.

Pia leaned over, not taking her eyes off the men. It was obvious they didn’t belong in the hall. Seeing the largest warrior at their table turn his eyes around the room in displeasure, Pia narrowed her gaze.

She worked her hand against Zoran’s arm to get his attention. She felt his eyes on her, but didn’t take her eyes off the strange guests. The largest at their table turned his stare to the royal table. The man did not have good intentions. Pia recognized the evil in him. It was in every one of his micro-expressions.

“That man plans something,” Pia said quietly to Zoran. “I’m going to make my way over there.”

Zoran tensed beneath her touch and reached to squeeze her fingers. Pia blinked, pulling out of her concentration. His eyes lowered in warning. “You are doing no such thing. That’s King Attor of the Var. He rules the kingdom to the south. He’s our guest tonight, and he’s being watched very carefully.”

Pia, realizing what she’d said, paled. “Sorry, old habit.”

She instantly understood Zoran didn’t like the man’s presence in his family’s home. His eyes were suspicious as he turned to peer over the hall.

The Var king snarled slightly in anger, though the man reigned in his emotion well.

“Why is he here?” Pia asked, her instincts quickening with the familiar rush of intrigue and danger. It was a sensation she hadn’t felt for a long, long time and she clung to its familiar pull. “He does not look like a friend.”

“He’s not,” Zoran allowed. “But his presence serves a necessity.”

“Ah,” Pia said, nodding in instant understanding. “It proves that we’re unafraid of him to invite him openly to our home. Smart.”

A servant came back and switched Pia’s wine with juice. Pia eyed the man in surprise.

Zoran leaned to whisper in her ear. “I’ll make a standing order in the kitchen never to serve you wine. If you find a drink you like better, let a servants know and they will see to it.”

Pia shivered as his breath hit her throat. All thoughts of Var intrigue left her as she turned her face to Zoran’s. His lips were really close. Her eyes dipped, unwittingly inviting him to kiss her.

Zoran glanced behind her back to where his parents sat. He smiled wryly, and turned his gaze back to his wife.

“Thanks,” Pia said, leaning back when he didn’t move closer. She swallowed nervously, again becoming aware of the crowd, though her eyes couldn’t focus on them and her ears couldn’t hear them. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. She itched to reach under the table to touch Zoran’s leg.

“You’re welcome,” Zoran withdrew from her.

A shout of laughter resounded over the hall in front of them. Pia turned her dazed attention to the sound breaking into her turbulent thoughts. A young boy limped to his feet from the floor. A group of Draig warriors were laughing at him. One foot turned in slightly and started to drag. Pia’s face fell in horror. Without stopping to think, she jumped up from the table and rushed down to the floor to help the child.

Zoran had the insane urge to haul Pia onto his lap to start kissing and groping her like some commoner. When he looked over her shoulder, he noticed his father’s eyes on him. The king urged him with a nod to kiss his bride and make a show of their happy marriage for those watching. Zoran ignored the man. Pia would not appreciate such a display.

Closing his eyes, he took a calming breath. He needed a freezing cold shower. Hell, he needed to dip his overheated body into a river of ice.

Zoran tensed as Pia flew past his back. Instantly, he opened his eyes and looked toward the table of Var warriors, thinking she meant to go there. He stood, intent on chasing after her. Then, to his surprise, she turned and went down to where Heinrich tried to prove his worth to the soldiers in an effort to be admitted into their ranks.

Several large Draig warriors chuckled as they watched the slender, sickly boy from the nearby table. Zoran knew that the boy wanted more than anything to be a soldier. He’d even dared to hound him at the practice field on many occasions. But, being that the orphan was born with a deformed foot that turned in when he walked, he wasn’t the most likely candidate.

The boy, who was climbing back to his feet to do whatever trick the drunken Draig warriors had good-naturedly bid him to try, blinked as Pia sidled next to him. Heinrich paled to see the princess watching him and tried to bow. The boy’s position was precarious and he stumbled before righting himself.

Zoran saw the protective looks on his men’s faces as she approached the boy, though they kept them guarded. Sure, the warriors gave the orphaned boy a hard time, but they were trying to make him strong of character. If he was going to fight with his deformity, he would need nerves of steel.

“Leave him be!” an angry Pia demanded to the table of stunned warriors. Zoran frowned at her forceful words. But, even as he watched her, he couldn’t help thinking how beautifully defiant she was. Besides, it was nice to see her turning her fire onto someone else for a change—even if they were some of the highest ranking men under his command.

“What do you want with Heinrich, my lady?” Stot asked, a burly soldier with a beard. The soldier’s face was hard, but he didn’t raise his voice as he tried to protect Heinrich. Zoran knew the man often cared for the boy, letting him sleep over with his sons, and taking him camping with his family to teach him how to be a proper man. Orphans were the responsibility of the entire community. And, whereas they didn’t have a stable, permanent home, unless they were taken in by nobles like what happened with his cousin, Lord Vlad, they were never left wanting. “Does he offend you? I will have him removed.”

Zoran watched, enthralled, as Pia’s body shook in irritation. Standing up to some of the most fearsome men under his command, she declared, “He does not offend me. You, however...”

“I don’t think your wife understands that Heinrich is being put through the paces to prove his worth as a soldier. Perhaps you should stop her and explain before she makes a scene,” Yusef broke in at his side.

A grin threatened the side of Zoran’s mouth, though he hid it well. Turning to Yusef, he said, “Perhaps you’re right brother.”

“My lady,” the confused Stot defended, not understanding what he’d done wrong. “The boy knows we mean no harm. Don’t you, lad?”

Heinrich dutifully nodded his head. He understood perfectly well. He too was confused as he looked at the princess.

“See,” Stot said.

“Yeah,” another drunker soldier with a pockmarked face added. “He thinks to become a warrior, don’t you boy?”

The men laughed good-naturedly. Zoran stood, stepping leisurely around the table to fetch his loud wife. He was all too aware that those in the hall were studying him for a reaction.

“Well, I’m a princess,” Pia announced, “and he will be my personal warrior.”

Those gathered were stunned. Heinrich’s mouth almost dropped to the floor at her declaration. Yusef took a drink, trying not to laugh at the mischief Pia caused. Zoran came up behind her, crossing his arms over his chest and said nothing.

Stot glanced at Prince Zoran in confusion at the declaration.

“If my lady wishes for a warrior,” the bearded man said when he could finally talk. “Let us battle for the position. Do not insult us by naming a boy.”

“Let us have a tournament,” one of the Draig warriors called. A shout of agreement came for the men eager to do battle for the princess’ notice.

“Do you dare to question a princess?” Zoran called with authority over the hall.

The onlookers fell instantly silent in respect. The warriors growled and looked darkly at the boy whose chest was puffing up with his new authority over them. Zoran sighed. He was going to be in for a headache of complaints after this incident. The men wouldn’t take kindly to his wife publicly slighting their ability in favor of an untrained boy.

Pia turned in surprise to see Zoran behind her. As he saw her face, he didn’t care how many grumpy men he had to deal with. Her open look of pleasure and gratification made it all worth it. She looked as if he’d just handed her a pile of stars.

“He’s my warrior too!”

Zoran turned around to see Nadja standing next to Olek, looking very defiant—well, as defiant as a meek woman of her stature could look.

“And mine as well!”

Zoran glanced to Ualan, who appeared amused. It was his wife, Morrigan, who had spoken.

Zoran glanced at his father and shrugged. The king merely gestured his fingers lightly, urging him to put an end to it. They could well deal with the ramifications of the wayward princesses later.

“There you have it,” Zoran announced. “You cannot deny the wish of three princesses. Heinrich is now under royal protection and will be treated according to his new station.”

The princesses glanced at each other, a silent camaraderie building between them. The idea worried Zoran a little. He wasn’t sure what kind of trouble the woman could get into if they banded together.

Pia nodded her thanks. The stunned crowd picked up its celebration once more.

Zoran lifted his hand and motioned the musicians to start playing. Pia told Heinrich to come to the high table to join them. The boy nodded his head, his chest lifting with pride as he saw some of the nearby boys looking at him with respect and awe, and quite a bit of jealous confusion.

Pia gestured expectantly at Yusef, and then to the empty seat beside him. The boy beamed. Yusef glanced at Zoran, shrugged, and moved over so the boy could take a seat beside Zoran. Pia waved a servant to bring the boy a plate.

As soon as the servant left, Yusef stood and went to join the musicians. They handed him an instrument and he began to play, paying more attention to the livening crowd than to his task.

Zoran saw Pia looking at him from the corner of his eye. She shifted slightly closer to him. He hid his smile behind a long drink.

Chapter 26

The feast was cleared and after-dinner drinks were poured aplenty. The Draig were much freer with their affection than most humanoid cultures. They openly kissed and caressed their lovers as if it were no big occurrence.

After the commotion died down, Zoran glanced fully at his wife. She was staring at him. Her hazel eyes were wide in what he could only guess was an emotion akin to respect or adoration.

Pia bit her lip and leaned forward. Zoran tensed, feeling her hand hesitantly creep onto his thigh, her long fingers curling lightly around to the inside. Leaning her head down, she whispered to him, “Thank you for saving the boy. I couldn’t stand to see them treat him so poorly just because he’s different.”

Zoran wanted to chuckle, but held back. Heinrich had been treated exceptionally well, by the very fact that the burly men had given him attention. He had a feeling that, after his wife’s intervention, the boy wouldn’t be so well received by the bitter warriors, who were insulted by Princess Pia’s actions. Undoubtedly, he’d have to front the money for a tournament and have a real warrior picked amongst them. He wondered if he would get permission from his father to compete.

However, as he felt her willingly touching him and saw the very tender, almost vulnerable way she was looking at him, he didn’t care. Let her have her delusion. He would gladly suffer any number of her public misconceptions and faux pas in order to keep that soft look on her beautiful face.

The musicians kept playing. The quiet Yusef strummed with them on a gittern, and proved himself quite up to the task. Someone sang in the Qurilixian language. It was a beautiful ballad he’d heard often in his youth.

Zoran glanced down to where the couples were beginning to dance. He reached over, lightly touching her cheek. Instead of answering, he said, “Dance with me.”

Pia tensed. She shook her head in denial. “I can’t dance.”

“It’s all just movement,” he urged, taking the crown from his head and setting it on the table. He took hers off as well. His eyes dipped over her red dress and his tone lowered. “I’ve seen you move. You’ll do fine.”

Before she could again protest, his hand met hers on his leg. Standing, he pulled her up and led her around the table to the dance floor. The villagers turned to watch the royal couple with pleasure before turning back to their conversations.

Zoran bowed to his wife. Her head didn’t move, but her eyes looked nervously around to see if anyone stared. Still holding her hand, Zoran lifted it to the side, cupping her fingers around his, and drew forward to wrap his hand about her waist. Pia shivered beneath his warm fingers.

“Put your hand on my arm,” he whispered, his slight grin hiding what he was saying from the crowd.

Pia obeyed. She wrapped her fingers around his large biceps, and he pulled her slightly closer to his chest, so he could feel the press of her brushing up against him in whispering caresses. Her lips parted with a quick intake of air.

“Now just move lightly. Follow my lead, as if you were trying to sneak across the floor unheard.” Zoran’s eyes dipped to her mouth, tempted, but he restrained.

Pia nodded.

Zoran began to slowly move. She was a wonderful student and easily took his instructions. Pia stared into his eyes, as if oblivious to anything else. He felt her heart beat wildly against his chest.

Zoran grinned, dipping her back. He was pleased when she didn’t tense, trusting him to hold onto her. Pia relaxed completely into his arms. Zoran pulled their extended arms in close and slowed his steps by a small degree, though still keeping time to the music. Zoran’s arm ran up her back, urging her head to fall forward to his shoulder as he held her closer. To them, there was no one else in the room.

King Llyr looked meaningfully at his queen, nodding to Zoran and Pia with pleasure. The queen smiled to see them. For a moment, he was captured by his wife’s smile. He loved her more with each passing day, though he hardly saw how such a thing was logically possible. Princess Pia reminded him of his queen when they were younger—a bit wild and strong-willed, perhaps a tad reckless. He wouldn’t change a single thing about his queen, so he found himself reluctant to order Pia to alter her ways.

“They’ll be the first to give us grandsons,” the king said knowingly so no one else could hear him. An unruly wife was just what the prince needed. Zoran was too serious. He ran his life like he ran his military. He needed a little conflict at home to loosen him up and add smile lines to his tense, sober face.

The queen’s smile lifted at that. “They will be fine dragons. Look how beautiful our children are in love.”

Zoran swung his wife in a wide circle. Catching Yusef’s look from the corner of his eye, he followed his brother’s stare. He turned Pia around to look at the head table. King Attor was there with his Var warriors addressing his father. He danced closer, trying to hear what was said. Pia snuggled into his arms, sighing contentedly, completely unaware.

“Many blessings on your unions,” King Attor was saying. “May your reign be long.”

“As may yours, King Attor,” his father said. King Llyr stood to show a respect Zoran knew his father didn’t feel.

Zoran turned his wife again. Pia looked up in surprise at the sudden shift of movement. Zoran winked at her and dipped her across his arm. When she came back up she was smiling at him. However, her smile fell when she saw the serious look on his face. The cat-shifter warriors walked out the side door.

Yusef ended his part of the song early and passed his instrument back to its owner, who took up immediately where the prince had left off. No one noticed the change as the dancing continued. Yusef followed the warriors out of the common hall.

“You can go if you want,” Pia said softly, watching Zoran’s face.

Zoran gave her his full attention. A wide grin came to his lips as he swept her into a spin and brought her crashing lightly back into his arms. Leaning over without missing a step, he kissed her throat beneath her ear, causing her to shiver. “What I want to do is to dance with my beautiful wife.”

Pia stiffened slightly in his arms at the compliment. Zoran drew back only to see her gaze had once more guarded itself against him. The song ended. Pia took a step out of his embrace.

“Maybe we should sit down,” she said quietly.

Zoran was unwilling to let her leave the dance floor, but there was nothing he could do about it. He guided his hand to her lower back and led her to her chair.

As Pia sat, the queen smiled at her. She nodded stiffly and turned her eyes down to her plate. She rested her hands in her lap.

Zoran saw his mother’s expression falter slightly. Queen Mede so desperately wanted to connect with all her new daughters. Zoran was ill-equipped to facilitate feminine relationships so he stayed out of the matter.

The king nodded at him in approval. Zoran automatically placed his crown back on his head, leaning to do the same for Pia. He wrapped his arm around her waist to draw her to him.

“Pia,” he began in question, wondering what was wrong.

Pia glanced up at him, but she didn’t have time to answer.

Zoran glanced down as Agro came to the head table, stepping up and quietly speaking to the king. Zoran stood, coming around to hear what he said. Pia watched them, but she was unable to understand what was said.

“Your son is alive, but Yusef has been attacked,” Agro said. “I brought him to the medical ward. The doctor sees to him.”

The queen’s breath caught lightly but she held her expression calm. “Attacked? How?”

“Stabbed,” Agro said. “He was not shifted.”

“Stabbed in human form,” the queen whispered. That was much worse. His dragon skin would have protected him better than soft human flesh.

“King Attor?” Zoran asked. Worry for his brother filled him, but he took his cue from his parents and did not show his emotions. There was no reason to alarm the palace without more information. Alarm would lead to chaos, which would make his job in discovering what happened all the harder.

“I don’t think so,” Agro said. “At least not directly. Yusef would not have turned his back on the king, and it happened as he escorted King Attor out of the keep and off Draig land.”

Yusef had been stabbed in the back in human form? Zoran resisted the urge to shift and run after the cat-shifter king. Politics be damned. He was going to rip King Attor’s throat out.

“I want to see my son,” Queen Mede said to her husband. “Take me to my son.”

The men nodded and Zoran came back to his wife.

“What’s happened?” Pia asked.

It took everything in Zoran to smile at her. “Keep your expression calm, wife, but there has been trouble with the Var. Yusef’s been hurt. I have to go. I’ll have one of the men take you back to the house.”

“I want to go with you.” Pia gravitated closer to him. “I can help.”

Zoran raised a hand to touch her cheek. To those who watched they looked like a loving couple.

“No.” His hard eyes bore into her with concern.

“But...”

“Lean into me, Pia,” Zoran commanded. His eyes dipped naturally to her lips. His hand fell to her arm. “We can’t let anyone see that we’re worried.”

Pia obeyed and he was glad for it. Her face came close to his. She felt his breath stirring over her lips as he spoke. Her eyes naturally closed, as if waiting for his kiss, and not really caring that they were being watched.

“I need you to promise me you will go back to the house and wait for me,” Zoran said. “I don’t want to worry about something happening to you until I know how bad the threat is.”

“Nothing will happen.” She slid her hand onto his thigh to rest. He possessively touched her waist.

“Pia,” Zoran insisted. His lips whispered closer and she shivered. “Promise me.”

Her eyes opened and she looked into his. Slowly, she nodded. Zoran relaxed.

The king and queen had stood and were walking behind them. Zoran felt his mother’s hand on his arm, urging him up. He glanced at her then back to his wife. Pia nervously glanced away.

“Heinrich can take me back,” she said. Zoran moved to stand and her hand tightened on his leg. “Try to hurry.”

Zoran’s eyes softened and he nodded. He took up his mother’s arm, pausing only long enough to give Heinrich the gruff order. Heinrich’s young face turned very serious and he nodded solemnly.

Pia wanted nothing more than to run after Zoran and demand he let her stay with him. If Yusef was hurt, what was to stop someone from attacking another prince? It took every ounce of her strength to stay behind.

As soon as Zoran was out of the hall, Heinrich stood and turned to Princess Pia.

“My lady.” The boy bowed. “I’m to escort you back to your home.”

Pia nodded seriously at him. Standing, she let him escort her from the hall, ignoring the irritated stares from some of the drunken warriors.

Chapter 27

As soon as they were clear of the hall, Zoran and his parents ran for the medical ward. Agro hadn’t been able to tell them much more. The man seemed fairly confident that it wasn’t the king and his ambassadors who had dealt the blows, but the Var were not dismissed as suspects in the tragedy.

Hearing Yusef howl in pain, Zoran’s stomach knotted in outrage. None of them had thought the Var king would dare to be so bold. It had been hard not to run out of the common hall when Agro told them of it.

At the doctor’s order, Agro helped pin Yusef to the bed so the doctor could see to the thrashing man’s wounds.

Ualan and Olek joined them and automatically stepped in to relieve Agro of his position. Agro backed away from the bed, his face strained. Yusef had fought hard, but he’d lost a lot of blood, and was weakening quickly.

“They stabbed him in the back. He didn’t have time to shift,” Agro said to Ualan and Olek.

The king nodded to the loyal man and commanded, “Agro, gather the trackers and see if they can’t pick up a scent.”

“I’ll lead them myself,” Agro declared. Shifting into his fearsome Draig form, he took off down the hall with lightning speed.

“My wife,” Yusef groaned from the bed, nearly incoherent.

Zoran waved one of the guards over. The man had blood on his tunic and it was clear he’d helped carry Yusef to the medical ward. “Get to the Outpost and gather my brother’s wife. Be discreet and tell no one what happened here tonight. Don’t shift unless there’s trouble and do not tell her what is happening. Leave her to us. We will deal with her.”

The guard nodded in complete understanding.

Hearing Olek, Zoran turned his attention to his brothers. Olek was also bidding someone to go after Yusef’s wife.

“I’ve taken care of it,” Zoran broke in. He waved the guard away to do his bidding. Moving forward to watch the doctors, he frowned. “They are getting her right now.”

Pia followed the silent Heinrich down the red passageway. If anything happened, she was sure she would end up protecting the young boy instead of vice versa. Feeling her side, she lifted her arm and tried to stretch the sore muscle. She just hoped it didn’t come to that.

“Here you are, my lady,” Heinrich dutifully announced. He turned to stand guard outside the door.

Pia ordered the door to open. Then, looking at the young boy ready to fight to the death for her, she studied him seriously.

“Maybe you should come inside and wait with me,” she suggested.

“A soldier does not run from danger, my lady.” Heinrich lifted his jaw proudly. “I will stand my post.”

Pia nodded, though secretly she thought it adorable that he was taking his new position so seriously. “Would you come inside, for me?”

Heinrich looked at her, his stubborn expression set.

Before he could deny her, she added, “Please, Heinrich. Prince Zoran is gone and I’m sure to be scared in this big space by myself. You would be doing me a great service if you would come inside and keep me company.”

Heinrich debated.

Pia lowered her tone and wrung her hands lightly. “This door will surely hold anyone off who tries to get in. And, if they do get past, well then, I have you inside to protect me. So, please, come in. I would feel so much better with a man in the house.”

Heinrich nodded, unable to fight the female logic. She could practically read his reasoning on his face as the boy decided. He knew well men were supposed to protect women and this woman was a princess. His duty was twice as important. He walked in ahead of her.

“Maybe you could have a look around and make sure it’s safe,” she whispered.

She smiled when Heinrich nodded. “Stay here, my lady.”

She waited patiently by the door as Heinrich made a great show of inspecting the entire house, disappearing into the different rooms. Pia eyed the oak door, knowing no one was getting through it. Seeing the hole she’d dug in the wall, she frowned. She really should fix that.

“All’s clear, my lady,” Heinrich announced.

Pia let loose a long sigh of relief for his benefit. “Thank you, so much.”

She walked to the kitchen. Taking the awkward crown off her head, she set it on the counter. “You wouldn’t happen to like sugared biscuits, would you?”

She poked her head out of the kitchen. Heinrich’s smile of excitement was all the answer she needed.

“Why don’t you have a seat at the table and I’ll get some?” Moving her skirt aside, Pia hopped onto the countertop and grabbed Zoran’s hidden bag. Climbing back down with much less grace, she procured a plate and dumped some out for the boy.

When she came out of the kitchen, he was sitting eagerly at the low table. Pia gave him the plate and smiled at him. “I am told these are royal cookies made by the queen. Only the most special are allowed to eat them.”

Heinrich hesitated only briefly before eating in enthusiastic silence. When he finally spoke, he asked, “Why did you pick me to be your warrior?”

“Don’t you want to be my warrior?”

“Well, yes, of course, my lady,” Heinrich said. “But usually the position is fought for in a tournament. The others will be a little upset because of it. They are better suited and deserve the chance.”

Pia shrugged. “I’ve found someone is always upset no matter what you do in life. So what if their feelings are hurt. They’ll get over it.”

Heinrich nodded. “I haven’t trained yet. I think I should before taking this position.”

Pia eyed him thoughtfully, amazed at the boy’s logic.

“If you don’t want me to leave your service, I understand,” he said. “But I think the soldiers were getting ready to let me try out for them. They were giving me a test of strength tonight to prove I was worthy.”

“Is that what they were doing?” Pia saw the earnest look on the boy’s face and instantly understood that the men hadn’t been picking on him. They were performing some barbaric rite of passage to see if the boy was ready to join them.

“You speak very wisely, Heinrich,” Pia said. “Well, stand up then. Let me see what you can do. If you impress me, I’ll speak to Prince Zoran about you. I’ll request that you begin training immediately. But, mind you, you must work hard. If you are to honor my family’s name, I expect the best out of you. And, when your training is complete, you will take your place as our personal guard.”

“Yes, my lady,” Heinrich said. He was instantly on his feet, standing at attention.

“Stay here,” Pia said. “I wish to see you with a sword.”

“Yes, my lady,” he obeyed, standing at full attention.

Pia went to the exercise room, hiding her smile. Retrieving a small sword, she came back and eyed Heinrich. “Do you know how to use this?”

“Yes.”

“Before I give it to you,” she said with authority, “I’ll teach you the very first lesson about being a fighter. It doesn’t matter how big or small you are. If you are confident in your ability and can strike fear into your opponent that’s half the battle.”

Heinrich nodded.

“Now, let me see your scariest face,” Pia said, a smirk starting to curl her lips.

Heinrich growled. The boy’s features shifted. His young skin turned dark beneath his clothes, hardening with a natural armor. His eyes yellowed. A line grew out of his forehead to push forward to create a hard plate of impermeable tissue over his nose and brow. Sharp talons grew from his fingers and short fangs poked out of his mouth.

Pia gasped, not expecting a literal change. Automatically holding up the sword, she stumbled away from the snarling boy. He growled louder, the sound too fierce for such a young child. A scream worked its way from her startled throat. All traces of the boy were gone, disappeared into the visage of a monster.

Heinrich, clearly thinking it was a test, roared louder, coming at her. He gave her his most menacing look.

“Back, Heinrich!” Pia yelled. She gripped the sword not wanting to hurt the child, but she couldn’t physically fight off his fangs and claws if he tried to attack. If he lunged for her, she wouldn’t have a choice. She would have to defend herself.

Chapter 28

Zoran strode through the halls to get home to Pia. Yusef was unconscious and in pretty bad condition. The doctor told them the knife wounds had penetrated deeply beneath the surface of his skin. They were sure that he would pull through, though he was still in danger.

Hearing a scream, his heart tightened in his chest. Frantically, he ran the rest of the way down the hall to his home, yelling for the door to open. He would know his wife’s voice anywhere. As he came through the front door, he saw she was shouting at Heinrich to back away. The unruly Draig roar of a child followed the sound of her rising voice.

Zoran blinked, seeing Pia cornered against the wall with one of his small swords lifted up. She was pointing it at Heinrich who had shifted and was growling at her.

“What is going on?” the prince bellowed loudly to the boy in their native language.

Pia turned her eyes to Zoran. The wide hazel depths were shaken. Her mouth opened to explain but no words came out.

Heinrich instantly shifted back to human form. He bowed, answering in kind, “My lady wished me to show her my scariest face so that I may prove I’m worthy of training under you, my lord.”

Zoran took in Pia’s trembling lips and her death grip on the sword. She kept her gaze steadily on Heinrich.

“I think you were too scary,” Zoran said to the boy. “Report to the field for training tomorrow morning. You will start as an apprentice warrior to the men. Now go.”

Heinrich nodded and jogged out the door.

“And from now on,” Zoran barked to the boy’s retreating back, “be more delicate around the ladies. They are not used to such fierceness.”

Pia watched the boy run off. Zoran ordered the door to close and went over to her. Pia dropped the sword from her shaking fingers. It clattered loudly to the floor, but she didn’t care. She rushed forward into Zoran’s arms, too shaken to do much else.

“He’s not human,” she breathed into Zoran’s chest. He folded her into his embrace. “He’s like a...dragon. I didn’t know.”

“Shh,” Zoran whispered, holding her close. He stroked the back of her hair. His body was stiff, as he witnessed her rejection of the Draig form. Inside, he tightened into knots. He had to tell her the truth.

Pia pulled back, looking up at his rigid face. Suddenly, she shook herself. “Some warrior I’ve turned out to be. It’s not like I haven’t seen shape-shifters before, but I really thought he was going to attack and I didn’t relish fighting off a young boy. I was so scared I was going to have to defend myself against him.”

Zoran smiled, though it was tight.

Pia pulled out of his arms and he let her go. “How’s your brother?”

“Not well,” Zoran answered.

“What happened?”

“He was stabbed in the back,” he said, cautiously.

“Any witnesses?”

“No.”

“Any idea who?”

“No.”

“Do you think it was the Var?” Pia asked, clearly growing exasperated with his short answers.

“Possibly,” Zoran said in frustration. Before she could ask another question, he said, “Listen, Pia, I need to tell you something.”

“What?” Her expression was confused. “Are we in danger?”

“I am Draig,” he said bluntly, before losing his nerve.

Pia’s eyes narrowed, not following. A quizzical smile came to her mouth. “Yes, I assumed you were of the House of Draig, as apparently we all are. Galaxy Brides tended to refer to everyone here as Qurilixian. Though technically true, I somewhat doubt their attention to certain details. But, yes, I understand. We are Draig. The enemy is Var. We’re the royal family—”

“No, Pia,” Zoran broke in. He allowed his eyes to shift fully to a golden yellow. The skin on his face hardened and turned to brown armor. Pia jerked in surprise, stumbling backwards into the couch as she watched his handsome face contort. His hair remained the same, but his forehead jutted low as his brow protruded. Fangs grew between his parted lips and talon-like claws formed on his fingers.

The tougher skin protected them from the elements. The eyes allowed them to see more clearly and to greater distances. In many ways, it was the human form that was handicapped. Although, it was the human form that could really feel. Its softer flesh could tremble at a woman’s touch, could mold to a woman’s gentle body, could claim her and make love to her.

When his lips parted to speak, his voice was hoarse and came out in a fierce demon-like growl. “I am Draig.”

Pia gasped loudly. She suddenly knew that all those times she’d seen Zoran’s eyes change in color, she hadn’t been imagining it. He was a dragon-shifter. Her heart felt as if it momentarily stopped beating. Her legs weakened and she fell back to sit on the arm of the chair. She should’ve guessed when she saw Heinrich. This meant all the men on the planet were shifters. They’d never let on.

She eyed him carefully. In a way he looked to be the same powerful man as before. She’d been all over the galaxy, had seen many creatures, so the transformation itself wasn’t shocking. But, to see the only man she’d ever been attracted to transform himself into something not quite human, unnerved her greatly. If she’d been scared about intimacy before, she was now petrified. Seeing him in Draig left her feeling vulnerable to him and Pia didn’t like feeling vulnerable.

“Just give me a minute,” Pia said, eyeing him. He wasn’t growling and snarling like the boy had been. She knew this man. It was the same man who’d danced with her earlier.

Zoran seemed to relax at her softly spoken words. He shifted back to his human form and took a step forward. She stood and moved away from him to sit on the couch.

“Pia, I wanted to tell you earlier.”

“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t, considering the way I handled seeing Heinrich for the first time.” Pia laughed lightly. Her eyes met his for a brief instant before turning away. “It’s not like I’ve never...albeit not one like you.”

Pia glanced up at him and then away again. He still wore the long red tunic. It made him all the more commanding and handsome. Shivers racked her body, as she silently added, None as breathtaking as you.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch, not touching her.

“I,” she hesitated, “ah, does it hurt?”

Zoran chuckled. “No, it doesn’t hurt. My Draig form is most comfortable.”

“Can you control it?”

“For the most part. If I’m in danger, I shift as a reflex.”

“Oh.”

“I’d never hurt you, Pia, if that’s what you’re asking me.” He moved as if to touch her.

“No,” she gasped. Pia’s wide eyes met his and she drew back. “I mean, not yet. I need to get used to it first. It’s still a little bit of a shock. I didn’t suspect...”

Zoran nodded. He was about to answer when a knock sounded on his door.

“Open,” he called, standing to meet whoever came. He half expected it to be the soldier with Yusef’s bride. It wasn’t. It was a doctor’s wife.

“Draea Anwealda,” the woman rushed. Her panicked voice switched to a thick English as she saw Pia. “Come quickly, you and the princess!”

“What’s happened?” Pia joined Zoran, but didn’t touch him.

“You are needed in the medical wing,” the woman said, her Qurilixian accent came out fast and garbled her words. “It’s the Princess Morrigan. She has been poisoned.”

She gave the prince a meaningful look and then glanced at Pia. Zoran studied his wife. “Come on, Pia,” he said. “We have to go.”

Pia followed him out to the hall, lifting her red skirt as she moved. Seeing a tapestry when she turned a corner, she noticed it had a depiction of the men in Draig form. Pia wondered how her usually observant nature hadn’t noticed it before. The dragon obsession made perfect sense.

Zoran’s family was already gathered in the medical ward when they arrived. Ualan looked tortured. He stared blindly at the operating room door. Yusef was on the bed in bad shape. His skin was pale and he was bandaged over his entire upper body.

Pia stepped next to Zoran, looking for Morrigan. She couldn’t see her. She did see Queen Mede. The woman was shaking her head, speaking frantically to Olek as she motioned at Nadja and Pia.

“Go with the doctor, Pia,” Zoran said gently, looking at her. He motioned his head, careful not to touch her. The doctor was covered completely with protective gear, down to his goggles. It didn’t look good. “He just wants to check you to make sure you’re fine.”

“I’ll go with them,” the queen announced in support of her daughters. Pia frowned. She was secretly glad when the doctor turned and indicated that Queen Mede should stay out of the room. The queen blinked in confusion but obeyed the man.

“But,” Pia began in protest of Zoran’s insistent shove when she didn’t move fast enough to suit him. “I feel fine. I haven’t been poisoned.”

Nadja’s eyes widened in horror at the statement, and she spun around to stare at Olek. Pia frowned, realizing the woman didn’t know what was happening.

Queen Mede pushed Nadja forward. “Go, dear. Hurry.”

Pia was led into the room followed by Nadja. The doctor turned to the women, taking out two handheld medic units. Without comment, he grabbed their arms and took a sample of their blood. Neither woman spoke as they watched the man go to a counter to test them.

Outside the room, the men were quiet, their faces drawn in worry. Pia didn’t feel sick, or poisoned, but didn’t fight the doctor’s examination.

Zoran stared at his wife, fighting for each breath as he waited for the doctor to finish. Morrigan had fallen to poison and possibly lay dying in the other room. Yusef was unconscious.

Suddenly, Ualan spoke, stating what they were all thinking. His voice deepened into a growl as his face hardened with a shift. “If any in our family die, there will be blood.”

“There will be blood either way,” Zoran said. His chest squeezed tight in worry. He couldn’t lose Pia. Regardless of what was between them, she was his whole world, his future.

Minutes later Pia and Nadja came from the back room. The doctor announced that their blood tested fine. Pia went to stand by Zoran, her expression hard. They sat quietly together in the medical wing by the motionless Yusef, waiting for news of Morrigan.

Morrigan was very ill and didn’t stop throwing up, even in her sleep. Her body fought with bravery, and in the end she won the battle for her life—albeit barely. Ualan sighed heavily with the news, and was instantly ushered to his wife’s side where he clearly intended to stay.

The king ordered all the food and wine tested, starting with Morrigan’s. The poison was found in a goblet. The servant responsible for serving her the drink had been dealt with. It was soon learned he wasn’t at fault. One of King Attor’s men had distracted him as he was preparing to serve the royal drink.

The drink had been meant for the king and queen. But when King Attor went up to speak to them, the servant had placed the goblet before Morrigan instead, so as not to get in their way. He never realized Princess Morrigan wouldn’t recognize the king’s seal, and would instead take the drink for herself. It was a grim blessing that Morrigan drank it. If one of the royals had taken a sip, they would’ve died instantly. The poison worked slower on humans.

The family relaxed to discover Morrigan was going to live. Their relief didn’t last long, as the soldier Zoran sent to gather Yusef’s wife, came back alone.

“Where is she?” Zoran barked, as soon as he saw the man.

Pia jumped slightly by his side at the harsh sound of her husband’s ire.

“My lady is gone,” the soldier announced. “There looks to have been a struggle. We smelled Var blood, but no human. She should still be alive.”

The king growled.

“We picked up their scent in the forest. I ordered the others to follow it,” the soldier said to Zoran.

“You should call the soldiers back and get one of your best trackers on it,” Olek stated quietly. “Let them think they have escaped into the shadowed marshes. Once we find their location, we’ll go after them alone and reclaim her for Yusef.”

“Olek’s right,” Zoran stated, switching his language to the native tongue in deference to the listening women. He didn’t want to alarm them. “If they wanted her dead, they would’ve killed her right then. They took her for a reason. If they hear the men coming after them, they could be forced to get rid of her to escape.”

Pia frowned at him, but did not ask him to translate. The men looked at each other, nodding in agreement and knowing that revenge was going to be theirs.

When it was determined that nothing else could be done, the royal family departed for their homes. Only Ualan stayed to sit vigil over his wife and brother, promising to send news if there were any changes.

Chapter 29

As the door opened to their home and Pia stepped inside, she stopped to study Zoran. It was late, but she wasn’t anywhere near tired. She was too on edge after the night’s events. Pia didn’t really know Morrigan or Yusef, but seeing how close the family was, reminded her of her parents, and she felt their pain. She had no wish to see any of them harmed.

They’d walked home in silence, but now that they were alone, Pia wanted some answers. “Yusef’s bride was kidnapped by the Var tonight wasn’t she?”

Zoran didn’t answer.

“You’re planning on getting her back, aren’t you? Or do you think they’ve killed her already?”

Still no answer.

“What did you say to your brothers?” she asked pointedly. “What are you planning to do?”

“Don’t concern yourself with it, Pia. We will handle it.”

“Why aren’t you telling me anything?” Pia frowned. “Aren’t I part of this? Tonight you twice acted as though my life might be in danger—first in the hall when Yusef was attacked, then with the poison. Yet, when I ask to be told what is going on, it’s as if you don’t trust me with the family secrets.”

Zoran didn’t say anything.

“You don’t, do you?” Pia questioned, hurt. “Yet, you expect me to follow your word blindly when you tell me to do something. Pia, don’t go to the practice field. Pia, go home. Pia, listen to me for I know what’s best for you. What am I to you? Another one of your men to be ordered about? You are not my commander, Zoran.”

Zoran’s expression darkened, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. She pulled completely away from him, shaking her head.

“I give up, Zoran.” Turning her back on him, she walked away. “I don’t understand you at all.”

Zoran watched Pia leave. He didn’t know how to answer her questions. The truth was he was preoccupied. He didn’t know what he was going to do to rescue Yusef’s wife—only that it was up to him to come up with a plan. His brother lay dying and he didn’t want to let the man down. Frowning in growing irritation, he stormed after his frustrating wife, following her into the bedroom. She was going to lecture him about trust when she refused to tell him anything about her past?

Pia glanced up, blinking in surprise to see him. She was sitting on the edge of the bed about to unzip her boot. Zoran strode directly for her, grabbing her about the shoulders and pulling her up to face him.

“Why should I trust you with my family secrets when you don’t trust me with yours?” Zoran’s nerves were shot and he was boiling for a fight of any kind. Seeing Pia’s face, he picked the battle that he knew would be the easiest to stir up.

“What?” Pia demanded, incredulously. She tried to shake loose, but he didn’t let her go. “What are you talking about? I have no secrets about my family.”

“Why are you here, Pia?” Zoran demanded hotly. His eyes glowed with all the torment and passion inside of him. Too much was happening out of his control—Yusef, the Var, the kidnapping, his achingly gorgeous wife whose heart of ice he couldn’t seem to touch.

“Where?” Pia asked confused. “Why am I in the bedroom?”

“Why did you marry me?”

“W-what?” Pia shivered. The word was no more than a whisper. Her eyes turned down.

“Why do you tremble and pull away whenever I try to touch you?” Zoran questioned, his voice lowering, though it was still hard. He gripped her tighter and refused to let her go.

“I told you,” she hesitated. “I have to get used to your—”

“Don’t give me that excuse,” Zoran said. His eyes flashed again. He could sense that she wasn’t scared of the Draig. She was hiding something from him. “You’ve been scared of me since that first night in my tent. I say you’re beautiful—”

“Don’t,” Pia pleaded, again trying to break free.

“I say it,” Zoran persisted darkly, “and you push me away. I touch you and you nearly jump out of your skin. I try...I try to make love to you and you won’t have me. Why, Pia?”

“It’s not...” Her lips tightened and she didn’t finish.

“Who was your father to you? Why did he give you that scar? Why do you owe Galaxy Brides all that money? What are you running from? Why are you here, Pia? Why?” Zoran shouted. He was tired of trying to figure her out. “Why did you marry me?”

“That’s not fair,” Pia whispered. “You made me marry you. I tried to end it, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I don’t believe that,” Zoran yelled. His breathing became labored as he tried to control himself. He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to say anything he might regret. “I can tell you want me. I can smell your desire for me even now. So don’t tell me you—”

“You won’t tell me what I deserve to know,” Pia interrupted, not letting him finish. “But in return you would have me bare my soul? It’s not like we’re in love, Zoran. Yes, I’m your wife and I’ll be loyal, but don’t act like we weren’t an arranged marriage. You bought me from a corporation. I’m paid for, that’s all you need to know.”

“If you want to know my feelings, all you have to do is ask me and I’ll tell you,” Zoran said. The thought didn’t necessarily bring him pleasure, and he wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. “I’ll be honest with you about them.”

“Let go of me,” Pia demanded instead of asking. She gazed steadily to him, staring him down. She ripped out of his hold. “How dare you yell at me? I don’t owe you an explanation for any of it. It’s none of your business what I did or who I was before I got here. I don’t ask you about your past. All I ask is that you trust me now. That you tell me what is going on. Why are we in danger? Why was the royal family attacked? Why do we need to fear the Var? Who are they to us? Nothing I ask has anything to do with your past. It’s a threat to us now.”

“You want my complete trust?” Zoran questioned. His gaze bore into her.

“Yes, by all means,” Pia answered wryly. “I haven’t done anything not to deserve it.”

His brow rose, thinking of several instances he could use to dispute that fact. Instead, he asked, “And you will give yours in return? I have your promise?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll tell me everything and I’ll tell you everything. Both of our questions will be answered honestly—no refusals this time.”

Tell me everything.

“Why does it matter?” Pia touched her face, feeling the smooth texture as she remembered her scars. She thought of the dead Rayvikian. She thought of her parents. She thought of the life she’d led. She didn’t think he would understand it. He came from such an honorable people. She didn’t think he would see her life as honorable.

“It matters, Pia, because you are my wife.”

Pia wondered how long he would want her for a wife after she told him the truth. But, as she looked at him, she was tired of lying and hiding.

“Shift,” she requested softly. Tears came to her eyes.

Zoran’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Just shift,” she insisted, grimacing in light annoyance that he didn’t automatically obey her.

Zoran slowly shifted to take on the dragon form. His golden eyes looked at her, swirling like molten lava. Pia looked at him carefully. Now changed, his chest heaved with deeper breaths. Pia went to him, lifting her hand to his face. She felt the roughened texture of his dark skin.

Zoran’s gaze bore steadily into her. Her heart slowed and the familiar loneliness and aching filled her.

Closing her eyes, she continued to touch him, feeling his neck. “My parents were stationed on an Earthbase on Dagar Twelve. It’s one of the moons in what’s known as the Dead Man’s quadrant. It’s called the Dead Man’s because everyone on the base didn’t exist on any official record—anywhere. According to the New Earth government, the base didn’t exist. It’s where I grew up.”

Zoran held very still. Her eyes opened to look at him and she drew slowly back, letting her hand fall as she sat on the bed. Zoran didn’t shift back. She was more comfortable talking to him like this. Pia took a steady breath. Zoran was still strong and strangely attractive. But, without the handsome human features or the tormenting look of his brown eyes, she could relax enough to speak to him.

“My parents were spies and assassins for a secret branch of the Human Intelligence Agency,” Pia continued. “My father raised me. My mother was killed on assignment when I was about one. Ever since I could walk, I was trained to be in the family business, as were the other children on the base. Then, when I was fifteen, the New Earth government changed power and thus their politics. The Dagar base was forgotten for about a year, written off as a testing lab for mutated diseases. But, when it was discovered what we really were, the government decided they needed to cover us up. They sent a cleanup crew to kill everyone on the base—including children, babies, even the animals. We never saw it coming. Everything was destroyed.”

“But you escaped,” Zoran’s rough dragon voice probed.

Pia stood and touched her side. Running her finger over the length of her scar beneath her red dress, she said, “All children on the base were outfitted with locators. If anything happened, if we became injured when we were out on the training courses or in some simulated assignment, the locators would go off and a personal medic droid would come to retrieve us. They’d drag us to a safe hideout underground and doctor us up. Let me tell you, those droids came in handy and were well used. That’s how we started the game of guessing each other’s wounds. We had nothing better to do in the recovery unit.”

She smiled wryly and shrugged as if it were a normal upbringing.

“My father was good man, Zoran. He was gone a lot on assignment, but he believed in what he was doing. During the attack, he became trapped beneath some rubble. I tried to pull him out, but I wasn’t strong enough. He must have known something was wrong because he told me he loved me, grabbed his knife, and gave me this.” She pressed her hand to her scar. “I saw him and the rest of my home blow up as the medic droid was dragging me away to safety.”

Her eyes turned sad and she sat back down. Pia lightly traced her cheek with a delicate finger. Zoran moved silently to sit beside her. She blinked in surprise to see him shift back to human form.

“I think I like you better the other way,” Pia admitted. “It’s not so intimidating.”

Zoran looked as if he would have laughed if she wasn’t so serious.

“Anyway, ah, after I got out of recovery, I learned most of my friends were dead, practically everyone I had ever known was murdered, save for a remaining handful of people. Since we didn’t exist, we had nothing, no one, no planet. The assistant director of the base took us under his wing. He had a lot of contacts and he got us out of there. We each gave ourselves a new name, complete with galactic ID’s and fake birth certificates. I became Pia Korbin and, before we knew it, we were up and running again as a rogue agency for hire. I was sixteen.”

Pia stopped talking. Her eyes were wet but she didn’t cry. She lay back on the bed. Lifting up one leg, she unzipped her boot.

“Why Pia Korbin?” Zoran asked, watching the long line of her legs stretch into the air.

“My mother was Pia. My father was Korbin,” she answered simply. “Pia Korbin.”

Leaning back on his elbow, Zoran questioned, “What was your name before that?”

Pia chuckled, kicking off her boots. “Seven. As in, seventh child born on the base, born on the seventh of the seventh Earth month.”

“You became an assassin?”

Pia sat up. She suddenly realized how much she’d revealed to him. “I think I’ve told you enough. You should be satisfied with that. I more than answered your questions. You know how I got the scar.”

“Pia,” Zoran began.

“It’s late. I’m tired.”

“No, you’re not,” he stated. When her brow rose, he added, “In Draig I can detect such things.”

“I’m tired of talking about this,” Pia corrected. There was no use in denying it since he seemed so sure. She wondered what else he could detect in her. Could he feel the treacherous longing in her body? Could he sense her desperate need to be held by him? “Where did you learn to dance?”

The question took him by surprise and he stared at her.

“I never danced before tonight,” she said. “It was fun. Thank you.”

Zoran edged closer to her. “You are a natural.”

“I had a good teacher.”

He moved closer. “There are other things I would teach you if you’d let me.”

Pia couldn’t look away. “Do you really want me to kiss you? Or are you just being nice?”

That seemed to bring him up short. She was deadly serious.

Carefully, Zoran asked, “How can you not know the answer to that?”

“I guess I do,” Pia said, a deep sadness welling up within her. She stood from the bed and began moving to the closet to change. “I can’t say I blame you. I understand perfectly. I mean I never was very pretty, even before the accident.”

Pia froze mid-stride. Her arms dropped and she closed her eyes, biting wearily at her lips to keep them shut.

“Accident?” he probed, standing behind her.

“Your Draig must be off tonight,” she mumbled. “I have to be tired. I’m rambling and not making any sense.”

Zoran forced her to turn around and look at him. Pia’s chin lowered to face the floor, not wanting to watch him force himself to touch her. He slid his hand down her arm to her waist and ran his thumb over her wound.

“You think because of a little scar, you’re not pretty?” he asked.

“I think I’m not pretty because I’m not,” Pia answered matter-of-factly. “I have no grand illusions. It’s not like they taught a course on self-delusion in between tracking and hand-to-hand combat.”

Zoran’s hand caressed over the red satin gown.

“I know you want sons and are duty bound to,” Pia hesitated, “do this. I know you’re honorable, Zoran, and will always do your duty. I only hope I didn’t tarnish your honor by what I told you. I won’t repeat it to anyone. And, really, none of the old crew knows I’m here. It’s not like they’re coming anytime soon for a visit.”

“Pia, the medic told me that you,” Zoran hesitated. Pia pulled away from him. Her expression grew hard. “He said that you appeared to have had some kind of surgery recently. Is that why you owed Galaxy Brides? Is that why you had to agree to come here? To repay a debt?”

Her expression must have answered for her.

“I want to understand,” Zoran persisted. “Did something happen on one of your assignments?”

Again, her face answered yes without speaking. She held deathly still.

“You had to change your face, your appearance in order to disappear?” he questioned. “That’s what the surgery was, wasn’t it? You had to hide your identity?”

Pia nodded. Aside from the small gesture she didn’t move.

“Is that why you don’t want to be married to me? You were forced to come here and thought you’d be rejected so you could get out of your debt, but I chose you and ruined your plans?”

“You’re very perceptive,” Pia said, her tone cold. “Although, you got one fact wrong. If you didn’t choose me, I would still have my debt. Whether it was you and this planet or some other guy somewhere else, in the end I would be married. That was the deal with Galaxy Brides. An exclusive bridal contract.”

Zoran closed his eyes and turned away. She’d been forced. He couldn’t bear to look at her. It hurt too much.

Zoran didn’t want to tell her that he felt bits and pieces inside of her—that when she broke his crystal, they were forever joined. He didn’t want her knowing she could feel inside of him, if she would just open herself up. Then she would know his heart was broken. He felt as if the organ had been ripped out of his chest. He wanted her so badly, but for her, he was the losing side of a gamble she took to save her own life.

Until he had her trust and she had his, he didn’t want her having the power to use his emotions against him. He wasn’t sure what she would do with such a power. Zoran had listened to her story in fascination. He wasn’t really sure what to think.

All he knew was that he really wanted to kiss her, pull her into his arms, and never stop. She was so beautiful in her red satin dress. It accented her tanned skin, hugged dangerously and seductively to her curves. He wanted her and he couldn’t have her.

Pia, misunderstanding his withdrawal, said, “I’m sorry you’re the one who had to get stuck with me, Zoran, I truly am.”

Zoran didn’t move. Pia crossed over to the lights and dimmed them. He tensed, wondering what she was doing. His eyes shifted to see clearly in the dark. She found him easily, running her hands over his shoulder. She brought her fingers around to the front side of his tunic. Feeling her way down his unmoving body, she unbuttoned his tunic front and pushed it down his arm, baring his chest. His breath deepened. He watched her face carefully, knowing she was blindly feeling him in the dark.

“You said you wanted me to touch you,” she whispered. Pia’s fingers ran over his chest and arms, willingly touching him. She glided her hands over his stomach. She found the waist of his pants and slowly worked them down over his hips, bending at the knee to guide them to the floor.

Zoran wanted her to come to him willingly, but not like this. Not because she was the unlucky participant in a contract, not because she had a debt to fulfill. He wanted her to want him. It was a bittersweet ache she stirred. Though he smelled her desire and knew she did want him with her body, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her to want him with her mind and her heart. She trembled slightly and he saw her bite her lip. He didn’t move.

Pia took her hands and ran them over his calves and knees. She caressed her fingers delicately over his heated flesh, feeling the hair-roughened texture of his legs, moving up to intimately touch the sides of his hips.

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?” Pia closed her eyes and swallowed. She couldn’t see his expression, only feel him stir against her.

Zoran saw her vulnerability clearly in the dark. When he didn’t answer, too enthralled by her to speak, she ran her fingers up his sides to feel his broad shoulders and neck.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” She leaned in to cautiously kiss his chest.

He nodded. She couldn’t see the gesture.

“Like this?” Pia whispered. She kissed him again. Zoran’s breath caught, but he didn’t stop her. She lifted her hands to her dress and slowly drew the satin from her shoulders. It whispered over her body as it pooled on the ground, leaving her gloriously naked.

Zoran tensed, his cock already hard with desire.

“Did you still want to touch me?” Pia whispered. She stood vulnerable and naked before him. “Zoran?”

Zoran’s hand tightened and lifted. He didn’t want her like this, standing before him like a human sacrifice. He didn’t want her as a whore he paid for. For, surely, that’s how she felt. Why else would she be offering herself to him all of a sudden?

“You don’t have to do this, Pia,” Zoran said. He ached to hold her. His body burned with desire. Turning away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He went to the dresser and searched for a pair of light cotton pants. Finding them easily in the dark, he turned to find her clutching the red satin to her chest. He imagined she felt relief. “I’m sorry if I made you feel you had to repay your debt to me in such a way. I never wanted to force you to do something you didn’t want to do.” He couldn’t let himself look at her. If he did, his resolve would crumble and he would go to her. Weakly, he said, “You can have the bed, Pia. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

With a whispering slide of the door, he left her. Zoran crossed naked to the bathroom, clutching his cotton pants. Tonight, a cold shower wouldn’t be enough to drain the throbbing need from his loins or the torment from his body. She’d pushed him past the point of no return.

If he couldn’t release himself inside her, then he would do the only thing he could. He would end the physical need with the fantasy of her in his head. And the other, more torturous suffering, he would bury in his chest and pray that the pain didn’t kill him.

Pia had hoped the darkness would help him forget who she was and what she looked like. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to take her so fast in an effort to get it over with, like the last time. Her heart squeezed until she thought it would burst. Not even darkness helped.

She’d thrown herself at him, offered him everything he’d asked for—touching and kissing him willingly, allowing him to touch her if he wanted. He’d refused and the ache of his rejection was so painful, she could barely hear his words. Not even in the dark was she desirable to him. How could she blame him? Had she told him too much of her past? Was he ashamed to be married to a hired gun?

Pia knew Zoran tried to be a husband to her. He tried to do his duty, but it would seem tonight he didn’t have the energy to pretend. Her body coursed with precarious emotions and she let the pain overtake her.

Pia collapsed on the floor, naked and trembling. Her mouth moved to scream her agony, but only a gasp came out. Rocking in the dark, tears began falling soundlessly out of her eyes. She wanted to die.

Chapter 30

Zoran left with the dawn, thoroughly exhausted. He’d ducked into the room only long enough to grab a tunic. His eyes had strayed to Pia on the mattress. She slept, sprawled out on the bed. Her arms and legs stretched in every direction.

His duty weighed heavily upon him. If he had to choose between going to fight the Var to retrieve Yusef’s bride, or facing the feelings he harbored in his heart for his uncaring wife, he gladly picked the first. At least against the Var, he knew it was a battle he could win.

About an hour after arriving on the practice field, Zoran saw the two trackers he’d sent after Yusef’s wife. They said it had been difficult, but they found her and her Var captors camping in the shadowed marshes. Zoran knew the area. He’d scouted through it before. It was an awful place. The rotting smell of molding plant life and animal carcasses masked even the barest traces of scent from most of their kind—from all but the elite group of Draig trackers who were chosen for their highly developed sense of smell.

He sent word to Ualan, Olek, and his father that they were to ride out immediately. Yusef still hadn’t awakened and the doctor didn’t sound as hopeful as the night before. The fallen prince was worsening.

Zoran strode across the practice field with only his sword and knife for weaponry. He went to join his brothers, who were swinging up onto their ceffyls. Ualan’s face was red. Zoran knew from his father that Morrigan had recovered enough to open her eyes early that morning. Whatever she’d said to Ualan had driven him from her side like he was being chased by a pack of demons. The rage would serve him well on this mission.

Ualan snarled darkly.

“There will be enough blood for all of us,” Zoran answered in return, seeing his brother’s mounting fury, though not exactly disapproving of it. Gripping the center horn of his mount, he swung up behind the beast’s bare shoulders. The ceffyl’s fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of his long tongue.

“Your wife will recover,” Olek said to Ualan, joining them. “Her mind is well.”

“Not if I strangle her into the grave,” Ualan roared fiercely. His face shifted briefly.

The king rode up beside them. Olek and Zoran exchanged looks. Zoran could well understand his brother’s frustration. He too felt it every time he thought of Pia. How he got the strength to refuse her when she offered herself to him, he would never know. Even now he wanted to hold her. His lips ached to feel her mouth. He pressed them into a hard line to keep himself from feeling anything.

Ualan growled darkly, swearing under his breath as he kicked his steed into action. Murder flashed in his golden eyes as his ceffyl took off. The king looked at his sons. Zoran merely shrugged in return. He had no words to offer his father. He had no words to offer himself. Kicking their mounts, the three men were quickly behind Ualan.

Pia was livid to discover Zoran had left to retrieve Yusef’s bride without telling her. She had to learn about it from the queen. Her anger was only made worse by the severe rejection she felt. She’d fallen asleep only after crying her heart out for hours. Her eyes were still puffy and her nose red, but she didn’t care.

Queen Mede offered to stay and keep her company. Pia refused, stating she was going to exercise and take a shower. The queen almost appeared disappointed.

The workout had done little to expend her frustrations. The cool shower did nothing to ease the tension in her body. Late in the afternoon word came around that Zoran and the men were back, carting one very alive Princess Olena. It was the first time anyone had told her Yusef’s wife’s name, because apparently they’d only recently discovered it.

Pia smiled, remembering the redhead who had sat next to her at the Breeding Festival. She liked Olena and was glad she was unharmed. Besides, any woman who could aggravate a husband by not telling him her name was all right by her. Right now, anyone who could aggravate their husband, period, was all right by her.

Zoran didn’t go home until late that evening. After taking Olena to her unconscious husband, he had visited with the doctors. To his relief, Yusef’s condition seemed to have turned around. His brother still hadn’t opened his eyes, but his coloring was better. They didn’t know what caused the change, but Zoran wasn’t about to question the good fortune.

Looking at his front door slide over his head, he thought, I need all the good fortune I can get.

Pia came into the room from the kitchen at the sound of the door. Her eyes hardened as she saw his blood-soaked clothes.

“So much for mutual honesty,” Pia ground out.

“Thanks, wife,” Zoran said bitterly. “It’s good to be home. Your sweet concern for my life and my health overwhelm.”

“Oh,” Pia sighed in mock gratitude, “and thanks so much for telling me about going off to fetch Olena from the Var. I’m so glad we had that talk last night about honesty and answering questions. Your forthcoming nature has overwhelmed me. For a while there I thought I was the only one honoring the bargain.”

Zoran’s eyes darkened. He was in no mood for this.

Pia clearly didn’t care, as she stated sarcastically, “Oh, wait, that’s right. I was the only one being honest last night.”

“Honest?” Zoran snarled, barking the word at her like a wild animal. “You want honest, wife?”

Pia trembled as he stalked across the room to her. His bloodied hands gripped her light cotton shirt and he nearly lifted her off the ground in his irritation. Her angry, defiant face excited him.

“Then tell me honestly to my face that you don’t want me,” he said.

Pia’s chest heaved, drawing his eyes down.

“Tell me the truth. Tell me that you only offered yourself to me last night to pay off a debt. Tell me you truly didn’t want to marry me and you are only toying with me,” Zoran demanded. He wanted the torment to end. He wished she’d just reach in and grab out his heart. He wanted her to stomp it beneath her boot—anything to kill its painful beating.

“Oh, yeah?” Pia thundered back. “Then you admit that all I am to you is a bought and paid for whore that you are duty bound to sleep with for the sake of producing your sons.”

“Fine whore you are,” Zoran said. Taking her hand, he roughly pulled it to his erect shaft. “A whore will usually slake a man’s desires, not boil them to erupting and never follow through. If you are a whore, you’re a lousy one, wife.”

Pia snatched her hand away. “Don’t you blame your condition on me. I offered to be a wife to you last night. You rejected me, not the other way around. I can’t help it if you aren’t attracted to me. I turned off the lights. I tried to make it easy on you. Any suffering you have is now your own doing. I wash my hands of it.”

“Reject you?” Zoran fumed, coming closer. By all that was sacred, she was a beautiful temptress. “You were acting like a sacrifice. There’s no passion in you for me. Do you think I relish the idea of forcing you to my bed?”

“I know you don’t relish the idea of taking me to it!”

“By all the gods, woman,” Zoran roared in disbelief. “Are you truly so stupid?”

Pia backed up, hurt. Her injured hazel eyes stared silently at him.

Zoran stalked her, not letting her get away. “I have done nothing but try to get you into my bed since the first moment I met you.”

Pia gulped.

Zoran motioned to the couch. “Gods’ bones, to my everlasting shame, I even practically forced you into it.” He thought of her blood on him. When she was backed against a wall, he stopped before her. “It’s you who wants none of me.”

Pia trembled.

Softly, he reached a hand to her cheek and continued in an agonizing whisper, “You pushed me out of you, Pia, when I wouldn’t leave your silken depths. You ran from me screaming. Is that how you would have me take you? Would you have me ravish you? Take you unwillingly? Force you to my bed until you tremble in fear at the very thought of my presence?”

Pia did tremble, but it wasn’t with fear.

“Is that what you want from me?” Zoran insisted. “Because even now I could do it. My body is on fire all the time for you. You’re distracting me. All I think about is touching you. I can’t even work anymore without seeing your beautiful face taunting me.”

Pia’s mouth opened to protest.

“Argh, no!” he yelled, shaking his head. “Do not yell at me for calling you beautiful. I don’t know what happened to you to make you so damned unaware of your power over men, and may the gods help me, I don’t really care. All I know is that you are exquisite and I would have you.”

Pia’s mouth closed.

“I know I cannot conquer your unfeeling heart toward me, Pia,” he whispered, tormented by his obsession for her. “But, please, tell me how to win you. What do I have to do to make you want me as I want you?”

Pia hands hesitated, lifting to touch his chest. A ragged breath left her. “Zoran, please, I...I never meant to hurt you.”

“Then you don’t want me?”

“No,” she sighed. He tensed about to walk away. “Wait.”

He stopped, turning to bore his eyes into her, searching.

“Let me finish,” Pia said. “No, it’s not that I don’t want you. It’s...I never meant to act like a sacrifice. I never meant to torture you.”

His heart skipped with a thin trail of hope.

“Before I met you, no man but one even approached me,” she whispered. Tears came to her and she pushed past him, as if needing the distance. “Oh, I don’t want to tell you. I should’ve just stayed away from this whole mess. I never should’ve allowed you to marry me. You don’t deserve this.”

Zoran turned.

“Urgh,” Pia began, taking a steadying breath to keep from crying. “Fine. I don’t know where to begin.”

“Why did you come here?” Zoran didn’t move, listening carefully for her words. They were soft but she didn’t turn to him.

“I told you that I was an assassin and a spy. I had unique qualifications that, ah, allowed me to get into some very seedy places. It’s not like we targeted good people. We targeted slave traders, mass murderers, cannibals, torture artists—some of them so horrific it makes my head swim to remember what they were capable of.” She turned to him, her eyes pleading. “I know it may not matter to you, seeing how I’ve taken many lives, but I never killed an innocent person. It’s important you understand that.”

Zoran nodded and crossed his arms over his chest.

“My last assignment ended about two months before I arrived here. I was sent to Rayvik. It’s in the Ice Galaxy. My target ended up being a rival to the mayor of one of the biggest industrial cities. He’d hired us to wipe out the competition. But, when I saw what sort of man the mayor was, I retreated and didn’t finish my mission. I reported back and was waiting for my orders when...”

Pia’s eye narrowed.

“What?” Zoran urged.

“I got drunk. It was stupid. The mayor’s son thought it would be fun to drag me out into the alley and rape me. I killed him and ran away. The Rayvikian mayor owns a torture club and there’s a hefty price on my head to get me there alive. I contacted Galaxy Brides and here I am.” Pia’s voice was cold as she quickly finished the story. “He was the only other man to ever...try to...be...”

Pia waved her hand, dismissing the statement. Zoran already knew the man hadn’t been successful in completing his task.

“What unique qualifications did you have?” he asked quietly.

“Last night I didn’t tell you everything. After my father cut me, and the droid was hauling me away, there was an explosion. I was hit.” Pia turned to study his reaction. “I was burnt over sixty percent of my body. Since the Rayvikians were looking for a scarred woman, and the surgeries to correct it would be exceptionally expensive, I had no choice but to become a bride. It took the Galaxy Brides’ doctors two weeks of constant surgery just to smooth the scarring out.”

“So it was either me or terrible death,” he concluded.

“I’m sorry, Zoran,” Pia whispered. “I know it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but now you know everything. I understand if you want to send me away.”

“Where would you go?”

“I don’t know. I have some contacts. I could feel around for a job. As long as the doctors didn’t take my picture, I’ll manage to disappear. Not too many people have seen this new face of mine, and even though the doctors said this is how I would have looked if I hadn’t been scarred, I don’t think anyone from my childhood would recognize me.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, carefully studying her.

“No,” she whispered.

“What do you want?” Zoran asked, taking another step forward.

“I don’t know.”

Zoran easily sensed that she was lying.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered her.

Pia blinked, meeting his bold gaze. When she didn’t act, he went to her.

“Take them off,” Zoran stated more firmly.

“Why—?”

“Do not question me,” he broke in. “Just do it.”

Pia stiffened but obeyed. Slowly lifting her cotton shirt over her shoulders, she then pushed off her pants. She kicked them aside.

“Don’t move,” he demanded in a whisper. “I want to examine you.”

Pia stood tall. Zoran didn’t touch her as he inspected her with the exactness of a commander to his very lovely female soldier. He took steps around her, his eyes devouring every curve. When Pia tried to turn and see what he was doing behind her, he snapped, “Eyes straight.”

Pia’s breathing deepened. Zoran took a hand to her backside, cupping it in his palm. She tensed.

“Very nice,” he murmured in a low, possessive tone. Giving the fleshy mound a squeeze, he said, “Firm.”

Pia jumped, trying to move. Suddenly, teeth were on her neck, biting lightly. Zoran let his fangs grow slightly to press in warning on her soft skin.

“I ordered you not to move,” he whispered. “If you give me reason to, I can rip your throat from your neck.”

Pia held still. Leisurely, his lips took the place of his teeth, and kissed her before pulling away.

“What are you—?” Pia tried to ask, her voice weak.

“Silence,” Zoran demanded. He’d heard enough of her words. It was his turn. If it killed him, he was going to make her realize that she desired him as badly as he did her—even if that meant ordering her about to do it.

“Zora—?”

“Silence!” Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “For someone who was raised on a military base, you certainly lack discipline. Speak again without permission and I’ll have to reprimand you.”

“Zoran, what are y—?”

Zoran growled, smacking her hard on her backside with the flat of his palm. Pia jumped in surprise even as she almost moaned in pleasure. She bit her tongue. Her knees tried to buckle, but she didn’t let them.

“That’s better,” he urged after some time had passed and she didn’t move or speak again. He kneeled behind her and lightly kissed where his hand imprinted red on her flesh. Coming back up to her ear, he stated, “I don’t want to have to punish you, but I will. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

Zoran smacked her firmly on her other cheek. This time his hand stayed boldly planted on her heated flesh.

“Yes, what?” he challenged.

“Yes, sir.” Pia sucked in a fast breath. Her eyes closed.

Zoran firmly hit her again, feeling her tremble beneath his hand. He smelled desire pooling between her thighs to tempt him. He smiled so she couldn’t see. Maybe Agro had been wrong. Maybe Pia didn’t need to be conquered, but commanded. He was just the commander to do it. Perhaps if he took her will away from her and told her what to do, her brain would stop getting in the way, and she would give them what they both wanted.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” she answered.

“Good.” Zoran rubbed his hand teasingly over her hip. “Very nice.”

Zoran came around. Pia’s eyes were closed and her lips were firmly pressed together. He took his time watching her with his sultry gaze, waiting until she looked at him before he moved.

When Pia finally peeked at him through her lashes, his mouth curled at the corner as he purposefully made a show of looking at every naked inch of her. When his gaze stopped at the hair between her thighs, he licked his lips in anticipation.

He lifted his hand, just as high as her breasts. Turning his palm to her, he ordered, “Step forward.”

She did.

“Put your breast in my hand. Let me feel it,” he ordered. She stepped up to him and pressed her chest forward, not moving her arms. “Rub it. Make your nipple pucker into my palm.”

Pia closed her eyes and obeyed. Raising her chest with ever increasing pants for air, she caressed herself with his hands.

“Now, the other,” he commanded when the nipple became almost instantly erect.

Pia moved. She let her other breast get the same torturous treatment.

“You like that, don’t you,” he growled. “Tell me you like it.”

“I like it.”

Zoran reached around and spanked her hard. Pia’s hips bucked.

“I like it, sir,” she corrected instantly.

“Oh,” he murmured in a low tone. “You like it when I spank you?”

He spanked her again. Her breast pressed harder into his unmoving palm.

“Yes, sir,” she cried. She was rewarded with another slap.

“You’re a disobedient woman, aren’t you, Pia?” he whispered, though there was no disapproval in his tone.

“Yes, sir.”

“You need to be taught to obey me, don’t you?” he probed.

“Yes, sir.” Pia groaned.

Zoran pulled his hand away. Pia blinked in surprise.

“Undress me,” he ordered.

Pia instantly went to him, no hesitation. She grabbed his battle-stained tunic and pulled it over his head. Then, with the same urgency, she pulled the pants from his hips. She gasped at his hard erection. He lifted his feet to help her with his boots. When she finished, she moved to touch him.

“I didn’t give you permission,” he said quietly, though he was pleased with her willingness.

Pia drew back.

“I’m sore from fighting,” he said, bringing to mind one of his most predominant fantasies of her wet body in the shower. “You will wash me and massage me. Come.”

Without giving her time to respond, Zoran turned and marched straight for the shower, turned it on, and stepped in. His body strained painfully, but he didn’t hide his arousal from her. He wanted her to see it. He wanted her to feel and explore him. Sitting on the seat, he placed his arms to the side. It would be sweet torture, but he would let her get used to his body. He watched as she dutifully followed him in. Her nipples, still straining, were instantly moistened with droplets from the shower.

His motioned his fingers to the soap, and said simply, “Wash.”

Pia’s body ached with need and very significant places within her throbbed for Zoran’s touch. Her backside still stung with the pleasure-pain of his slaps and she didn’t think to disobey the command to follow him into the bathroom.

She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to stay here and have him tell her she was beautiful for the rest of her life. She wanted him to love her as she undeniably loved him. Her whole body shook with the torrent of emotions flooding between them. It was as if she felt every fiber of his body calling to her.

Water sprayed all around her as she stepped into the shower, wetting her hair. She pushed the locks away from her face and reached for soap. Eyeing him, she didn’t know where to begin. Seeing her dilemma, he lifted a foot. Pia dropped to her knees and began gliding her fingers over his flesh.

Zoran’s gaze narrowed as he watched her. She gripped firmly, massaging his calf muscles with her strong fingers.

Pia felt him tense as she worked her way up to his thighs. He was so strong—pure muscle. She rose on her knees, massaging his legs. Her eyes stayed focused on his arousal and the two soft globes beneath it as she worked her way over his large thighs. It quivered as she neared it.

Pia didn’t dare touch his erection as she worked over his hips to his stomach and chest. She rubbed and cleaned all the battle sweat from his glorious skin. Zoran watched her with eyes of liquid fire. She explored his arms and neck. She slid her fingers between his stronger ones as she lifted and washed his hands.

“Stand,” she whispered, unable to get his back.

Zoran’s brow lifted.

“Please, sir,” she whispered.

He nodded and stood for her, turning around.

Pia rubbed his shoulders more thoroughly from behind. His head dropped and she heard him sigh as she eased the tension from them. She gave the same careful treatment to his back that she had to the rest of him, only hesitating as she reached his taut backside.

He turned to eye her and she quickly touched him, massaging and cupping him in her palms as she finished.

Pia drew her hands away. Zoran turned, towering over her. The shower washed off all the soap she’d put on his body. He looked down pointedly at his arousal and said, his voice hoarse, “You missed a spot.”

Pia looked down and didn’t move.

Zoran took her hand in his, squirted more soap into it, and brought it forward to his member. Moving her hand, he had her cup the base, rubbing the soft globes before moving her fingers around his shaft, lathering himself with her hand. His eyes stayed steadily on hers as he forced her to stroke him several times.

Pia felt the unyielding power of him beneath her palm as he made her learn his body. It tortured her and, although she remembered how hard he fit inside her, she suddenly wanted to try it again. Didn’t Nadja say the second time wasn’t so bad?

Zoran almost lost himself as she tightened her fingers. She took over, stroking him more insistently in her own desire. He groaned and forced her hand from him.

“I think I’m clean enough,” Zoran stated, his voice husky. He looked her wet body over. He wanted nothing more than to touch it. If he did, he would never be able to draw this out like he planned. “Wash yourself, wife, and then come into the bedroom.”

Pia gulped. Her mouth was dry.

Zoran looked her over with a dominating consideration. “Don’t bother to get dressed.”

Pia shivered. Zoran strode out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and didn’t look back. Collecting herself, she did as he commanded, washing as quickly as she could with shaking fingers.

Chapter 31

Pia couldn’t quite force herself to walk across the house naked. She tried. But, in the end, she grabbed a thick robe off the wall by the bath and wrapped it around her shivering body.

Zoran had been exquisite to explore. The feel of him amazed her, the hot texture of his flesh, the deep folds of his muscles, the size of his...

Just thinking about it made her blush furiously in embarrassment and she couldn’t finish the thought.

When he looked at her in his commanding way, she really wanted to obey him. She wanted to please him and she wanted to be pleased by him. Her body ached for his touch, knowing that a set of explosives would go off at the lightest of his caresses.

Pia poked her head out of the bathroom door, checking the front room. It was empty. Slowly, she inched out, padding barefoot across the wooden floor. She paused to see that the bedroom door was closed.

Pia’s heart hammered in her chest. She panicked. Spinning on her heels, she made a move for the front door. Her lips parted ready to call out a command for it to open. She was too late, Zoran had heard her.

“Lose the robe and come here.”

Pia shivered. When she looked, he wasn’t there but the door was open. A soft flickering came from the bedroom and Pia saw the dancing flames of numerous candles haphazardly trailing along the dresser and floor like twinkling stars.

She clutched the robe to her chest, slowly going to him. Curiosity overcame her fear and she stopped at the bedroom door. Zoran was lounging on the bed naked, waiting for her. Her eyes widened, instantly turning down and away.

When she merely stood, clutching the robe in a deathlike grip that turned her knuckles white, Zoran frowned. His look said he knew she’d contemplated running away. “It would seem I still have some taming to do.”

Zoran idly smiled, clearly believing himself up to the challenge. Moving stealthily from the bed, he was soon before her. Pia tensed. Zoran grabbed her belt and jerked it from around her waist.

“Take off the robe,” he ordered quietly. Her lips tightened and he lowered his mouth to them. Whispering against her, he let his mouth brush hers, as he urged, “Please, take it off. I’m aching to touch you.”

Zoran lifted his hands to her shoulders, delving beneath the material to brush across her skin. He forced the robe from her shoulders and it pooled onto the floor.

“Better,” he murmured, as if to himself.

Pia shivered.

“Do not try to hide from me again,” Zoran instructed. “From this moment on, I’ll look at you and touch you whenever and however I wish. And you will touch me. This is what we both want. You are my wife. You will stay as my wife. None of the other things matter.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Get on the bed,” he told her.

Pia moved in silence and laid down on the low bed, watching as Zoran came over her. She noted how his fiery gaze filled with pleasure when he saw her body beneath his.

“Give me your wrists.” His thighs straddled her. His erection came close to her leg.

Pia was past the point of conscious reasoning. His words demanded, but his eyes and face begged her not to refuse him. Trustingly, she lifted her hands up to him.

Zoran crossed her arms at the wrists. Taking the soft belt from the robe, he watched her eyes as he bound her wrists together. She wiggled slightly, but didn’t fight. Lifting her arms over her head, he made quick work of tying her to the top of the bed. He pulled her hands to make sure she couldn’t free herself.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked.

Pia nodded.

“Where?” His lids narrowed over his eyes.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t have made a sound if she’d tried. Her breath came out in ragged pants.

“How about here?” Zoran took a finger to her hands, running over her arm to her throat, over her speeding pulse, down her collarbone to sweep across the tops of her breasts. “Do you want me here?”

Pia nodded. She closed her eyes as his fingers narrowed in on her nipples, twirling lightly around them so they budded. Her body stirred with an intense longing.

Zoran thoroughly caressed and explored her upper body, before moving to touch her stomach, rubbing over her legs, whispering past her feet. Pia had never felt anything like it before. Her heart ached. She wanted to cry out, but the feelings were so intense that instead she moaned. By the time he made the journey back toward her hips, she was squirming against her bindings.

“Where else do you want me to touch you?” Zoran asked.

Pia’s stomach tightened and as he drew a finger closer to her heated center. She arched in offering, but Zoran had other plans. Pulling his hands away, he met her open mouth with his, taking in her ragged breaths. Her legs worked beneath him, stirring helplessly against the coverlet.

“Ask me to kiss you,” he whispered against her lips.

Pia didn’t ask. She lifted up, taking his lips with hers. Zoran groaned as her mouth opened and her tongue sought automatically to taste him. He gave back to her with all his expert skill, setting her ablaze with the full tide of his restrained passion. Her knee lifted to rub against his hip. Using all her strength, she tried to pull him closer. Her hands fought to be free so that she could force him to her searching body. She wanted to touch him, explore him, as he had her.

Zoran’s mouth broke free. His lips moved down across her body in the same path his hands had taken moments before. He trailed his tongue along her old scar, kissing her hip. His mouth breathed hotly against her pussy. He nipped at her inner thigh, kissed her from her knee down to her toes before traveling back up the other side. By the time he finished, he’d staked claim to every inch of her, worshipping and conquering at the same time. His lips found one ripe breast, biting and teasing it mercilessly, roughly licking a nipple.

“Oh!” Pia’s entire body jerked.

Zoran growled, giving the other breast the same attention. He bit lightly and her hips bucked.

A slow smile crossed his lips. He leaned over the side of the bed and lifted a tapered candle. Holding it high so that the wax would cool some before it dripped on her skin, he let a drop fall across her chest.

Pia gasped loudly, her back arching up. Every nerve in her body tingled with pleasure. Her skin was alive, awakened completely for the first time.

He dotted a red trail of wax down the valley of her breasts, over her stomach, to the side of her navel only to stop before hitting her delicate center.

“Zoran.” Her breath caught. Oh, but it was the most wonderful torture. Her eyes sought his, pleading. “Please.”

As if those words were what he’d been waiting for, he licked his fingers and put out the flame before dropping the candle onto the floor.

“Please,” Pia said again, not completely sure what she was begging for.

Zoran smiled at her. His body was taut with his desire as he kissed her. Her legs moved restlessly.

“Please?” he repeated softly against her lips. “Do you want me to end your torment?”

“Yes, please, Zoran.”

He moved his hand to her stomach, reaching to test her depths. Gently he rubbed his fingers against her moist sex. “Open yourself to me.”

Pia trembled, a little nervous as he brought his legs between hers. But his fingers felt so good rubbing against her that soon she was mindless to everything but the feelings he put inside her body.

Zoran guided his hips to hers. Poising himself above her, he kissed her again, stealing her breath from her chest.

Suddenly, he hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Zoran,” she sighed against his mouth. “You’re not hurting me. Please, don’t stop now.”

“But, before,” he began.

“Shh.” She kissed him straining against her bonds.

Zoran groaned. Tenderly, he entered her warm depths. She moaned, reaching with her body. This time, he was slow, giving her time to adapt.

By small degrees he filled her completely. His hips came flush against her. “I’ve wanted you since our wedding night. Tell me you want me, too.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I want you, too.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. Words were beyond them as he moved inside her. Pia tensed, never having felt anything as sweet as Zoran’s possession. He made love to her slowly, savoring every touch. His hips thrust in an even rhythm, working into her as he lifted his body above hers.

Then, when they couldn’t draw it out any longer, he brought her to climax. Zoran released himself into her. She whimpered as the pleasure radiated over her. In that moment, he was all that mattered. Tremors racked her body and then exploded into one glorious moment.

Out of breath Zoran collapsed next to her. Pia was too scared to open her eyes, scared that she’d wake up from the dream.

“Look at me,” he urged.

Pia opened her eyes.

Zoran released her wrists, drawing them down to kiss the reddened flesh. “You look so beautiful right now.”

Pia looked down. Zoran followed her eyes and chuckled. Flicking his finger over her skin, he gently pried the wax from her body.

“Was...?” Vulnerable, she peeked up at him from between her lashes.

Lightly, he kissed her. “You were perfect.”

Pia made a weak noise, but didn’t protest.

Zoran climbed out of bed. Walking naked and unashamed through the bedroom, he blew out the candles. Pia watched him, loving the look of him. He eased the coverlet out from under her. Pulling her into his arms, he held her close.

Pia closed her eyes, overwhelmed with her feelings. She didn’t want to face them or give them a name. But even if she didn’t say it, she knew she loved him. She loved him like she’d never loved anything and it terrified her.

Zoran had forced her to face the depths of her passion, knowing she needed him to control her. When she discovered those depths, he’d released her. His was a gift more precious than any she had ever received. She didn’t want it to end, but knew, like everything in life, that it must end. A gift, such as he, was too precious to hold onto forever. The gleam he had for her would soon tarnish and disappear. And she would be trapped with the distant memory of it.

Chapter 32

Zoran’s hunger for his wife was insatiable. She could walk across the room and he would want to make love to her. Each and every time he went to her, she would blink in surprise that he could want her again. But he did want her and he took her. After stiffening, followed by a moment of weak incoherent protest, Pia melted easily into his arms each time.

When Zoran left for work in the morning, she was almost relieved, ready for the break. However, when he came back in the evening, she was eager to discover what new delights her husband had to teach her.

He was gentle each time and Pia wondered at the restraint. She saw the eagerness in him, tempered back. That first time on the couch had been wild and rough. He’d been almost crazed. She wanted to try that. She was too embarrassed to ask.

He made love to her on the couch, in front of the fire, with the flames turning their skin a golden hue. He caught her in the exercise room, swept her sweat-laden body into his arms and claimed her in the hot spring, teaching her to ride him astride, controlling her hips with his large, strong hands. Mostly, he took her to his bed. He didn’t bind her again, didn’t drip wax, keeping his love play tender and sweet. He treated her like a delicate flower.

It was wonderful, but Pia was no delicate flower.

During the day, Pia spent time with the other princesses, excluding Olena, who spent every moment caring for Yusef. Pia even started to like Queen Mede some, though she was still hesitant around the woman. She took her meals in the common hall along with the rest of the family. A high alert had been set on the kitchen and staff after Morrigan’s poisoning, so it was a little more tense than usual when they gathered together. The men didn’t join them often, taking their meals wherever they practiced and strategized.

When Nadja mentioned how Pia was training her to fight, Morrigan had been only too happy to join in the lessons. So, when they weren’t roaming about the village with the queen—during which time, Pia noticed they were always followed at a distance by a Draig guard—they were self-defense training in Pia’s home.

Pia frowned, eyeing the punching bag in anger. Her muscles were sore, but it felt good. Pia was secretly glad Morrigan hadn’t showed up for her knife throwing lesson. She was in no mood to be pleasant. She wanted blood.

Pia was kicking the punching bag, pretending it was her husband’s face. She’d told Zoran everything about her, but he still didn’t confide about what was going on. They were lying in bed, their bodies sated, when she’d asked him, “Have you found the men who attacked Yusef?”

“No,” had been his answer. “But we will.”

“Do you suspect a threat?” she’d asked, snuggling trustingly into his warmth. She’d traced patterns over his chest with her fingers. “Do they plan something?”

“No, they merely took an opportunity to strike,” he’d murmured into her hair, giving her temple a light kiss. “We have nothing to fear from the Var.”

And she had believed him,

She should have detected his lie, if not for her being distracted by his warm kisses on her neck and the erotically bold hand on her hip.

“No threat, huh?” She kicked the bag in quick succession until her leg hurt so badly she had to stop before falling over.

Pia had tried to go out to the forest for a jog by herself, only to be stopped by the same Draig guard who had been following them for the last several days. When she tried to skirt past him, demanding he step out of her way, he’d told her that the colossal forest was off limits and he wasn’t to allow her entry. When she’d asked why, he’d told her that the Var enemy had been sensed within the trees and it wasn’t safe.

The princesses, it seemed, were not to go anywhere alone. The castle security was on the highest alert and it was suspected another attack would undoubtedly befall the royal family. Her life, along with the other princesses, was in danger.

When she’d tried to go anyway, the Draig warrior had called out an order and she was surrounded by an entire battalion of soldiers—they just popped out of the trees like they’d been watching her all along. She hadn’t even suspected they were there. Then she was informed that she would be subdued by any means necessary if she persisted in trying to defy the—oh, and this was the best part—the Captain of the Guard’s order.

“Nothing to worry about,” she growled, kicking with her other leg. “I’ll show that overbearing, lying barbarian Zoran nothing to worry about. When I’m through with him he’ll wish the Var had attacked!”

Pia continued to mutter under her breath. She couldn’t believe she’d trusted him and he was treating her like dainty little housewife. How dare he patronize her! She’d faced worse threats than a savage Var king bent on taking over a rival kingdom. And even if she hadn’t, there was no reason why he shouldn’t trust her enough to tell her what was happening.

Honesty and trust, she thought bitterly. That’s what he’d said he wanted between them. Obviously, what he’d meant was her honesty and her trust, oh, and her complete and utter submission to him.

Pia wailed on the bag, denting it with her fists and feet. This time she didn’t stop until her body collapsed on the floor, her heart thundered so hard it nearly exploded from her chest, and her lungs burned with the need for air that couldn’t be gasped fast enough.

“My lord, your presence is requested in communications.”

Zoran turned around from where he watched a hand-to-hand combat training on the practice field. The young soldier who spoke was looking at his brother, Ualan.

At the soldier’s words, Ualan looked up from where he held his knife to a young warrior’s throat. Sighing, he tapped the man’s neck, indicating the kill shot. Standing, he nodded at Zoran before tossing the blade to him. Zoran caught it with one hand, barely blinking as he turned back around to watch a practice fight.

Ualan had been in a bitter, dark mood since before they’d left to reclaim Princess Olena. The soldiers had tried to avoid the future king as if he carried the blue plague.

Zoran couldn’t have been more opposite in temperament. His body sung with pleasure each time he thought of his beautiful, passionate wife—which was about every three minutes. He’d even commanded the men with a small smile on his face, which surely the whole military had noticed. He still was hard, pushing the men to be the best, but there was a gaiety to him that the men had never seen before.

Zoran wanted to make love to his wife almost every waking moment. Even after he’d claimed her and his body was well spent, a small part of him wanted to do it again. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to taste her lips with his. He was addicted. He wanted more of her, wanting to explore the wild untamed depths of her passion.

In the past, he’d never restrained himself when it came to seeking physical pleasures. But the whores he’d been with had been experienced and understood what he wanted. Pia was still innocent. He’d seen the way she reacted that first time, running away crying into the bathroom. Now that she trusted him, he didn’t want to risk sending her off just because he had the urge to bend her over the dining room table and take her wildly from behind. Or because he wanted her to tie him up blindfolded, and dominate his flesh into a pleasure-pain frenzy.

No, he had to be gentle. Not that gentle was bad—he just knew the other, rougher play could hold amazing climatic rewards. However, faced with the prospect of some or nothing, he would gladly take the some without complaint.

Glancing over his shoulder, Zoran watched as Ualan walked off. Nodding to the out of breath soldier his brother had just knocked down, he motioned to him to rise and join the others in hand-to-hand combat.

Zoran looked to the sky, detecting the blue sun’s position. He’d have to wait about another hour before he could knock off early for the day and give the men a break. Thinking of Pia, he smiled, suddenly having the strangest urge to run home.

Chapter 33

Zoran rushed home. The last hour of practice had been torment as his body stirred with the excitement and promise of his desire. The training session was nearing its end and Zoran would be given a long break while the soldiers went home to visit their families. He planned on spending it with his wife, as long as war did not break out. He was happy to report to his father that nearly a quarter of the men were ready for their final testing. It was an impressive group that would be moving on, joining the official ranks of the army.

The training session had lasted three years. Those who were not ready for final testing went on for another three years—though that wasn’t unusual. It was normal for the Draig warriors to spend twelve or more years mastering their basic skills before moving to a more specialized field.

Instantly, his dragon senses detected Pia in the exercise room. Envisioning her skin glistening with sweat, his desires surged. He placed his sword on the table and went to join her.

Pia rammed her fist into the punching bag and didn’t appear to hear him approach. Between strikes she mumbled to herself, but he couldn’t make out the words. A smile spread across his face as he watched her ass flex with a high kick. She’d been exercising quite a lot lately and he could definitely see a difference from when she’d first arrived.

“Hello, Pia,” he said softly, his voice automatically dipping into the low, come-hither tone that usually sent chills along her spine.

Pia stiffened. Her arms dropped and she didn’t turn to him. Looking down, she slowly unwound the protective bandages from her hands.

Zoran’s smile deepened and he took a step forward.

“Dare to touch me, dragon,” she said in a hard tone, before turning to glare at him, “and I promise to send your nose into the back of your skull.”

Zoran’s smiled faltered. He was surprised by the darkness in her tone.

Her expression dared him to try to touch her. He didn’t move as she came toward him. Was this a new game? But, then, to his surprise, she continued past. Without a backwards glance she went into the bathroom, shut the door on him, and turned on the shower.

Zoran followed her. Sliding open the door, he stepped into the bathroom. Her clothes were stripped from her body, piled on the floor, and she was scrubbing her skin with an incensed fury.

“Pia?” he questioned, worried.

“I’m warning you, Zoran, get away from me.” She lathered her hair with the same angry attention she’d given her skin before quickly rinsing it. “If you take a step closer, one of us won’t be leaving this bathroom alive.”

“Pia,” Zoran said darkly. She put conditioner in her hair and quickly rinsed it. “What goes on here?”

Pia threw open the door, glorious in her wet nakedness. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body.

“Out of my way, Zoran.” Her expression spoke volumes.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pia dropped the towel and strode toward him. Zoran’s eyes automatically dipped down her body to watch it. His mouth became dry. She stopped before him.

“According to you,” she stated with false sweetness. “Nothing goes on here at the palace. Everything is fine.”

Her lips curled into an instant snarl and she gave him a mighty shove. Zoran, who had been staring at her heaving breasts, thinking how much he wanted to push her up against the counter and rough ride her, was taken off guard. He lost his balance. His arms flailed as he tumbled backwards into the hot spring.

Pia didn’t turn back as she heard her husband’s splash. His dark curses followed. A smile of shallow victory came to her face as she went to the bedroom and shut the door. Taking the dresser, she pushed it in front of the screen to block him from entering. Then, she donned comfortable cotton drawstring pants and a loose shirt, before crawling into bed.

“None of the men will fight us,” Zoran said irritably to his brothers. He glanced from Ualan to Olek and then back again. He’d just spent one very long and uncomfortable night on the couch. Pia had locked him out of his own room. When he ordered her to let him in, she’d just laughed and told him to get lost. Then, that morning when he said he needed to get a change of clothes, she’d stuffed his tunic through a shallow opening between the sliding door and the top of the dresser. Snarling to his brother, he growled in irritation. “They say our mood is too black. They are frightened we will kill them.”

Zoran looked over at the men who had carefully edged across the exercise field to get away from the angry princes. He couldn’t say he blamed them, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. His frown deepened. With the only outlet for their rage quickly retreating, they were forced to simmer in their ill tempers.

“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Olek growled, voicing their sentiments as he stormed away to the palace. Zoran and Ualan were quickly behind him.

Chapter 34

Olek and Nadja’s home was filled with lush plant life and giant fish tanks that took up an entire two walls. In the center of the front hall was a natural water fountain, relaxing and calm in its resplendent beauty. It did nothing to soothe the sour temperaments of the four princesses.

Looking around at the other high-backed chairs, Pia noticed the other women looked as dismal as she felt, especially Morrigan whose unusually pale face and red eyes screamed that she was hung-over. Stretching her arms over her head, Morrigan yawned. It was the most movement she’d made in a while.

“Heinrich is now training as a soldier. I released him from his duty to us,” Pia said in answer to a question about the boy.

Olena looked confused, but the others nodded in understanding.

“So, have any of your husbands lied to you about who they are?” the dejected Princess Olena asked. She was the newest member to their miserable ranks. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun and her green eyes normally flashed with continuous mischief, even when she wasn’t up to something. She looked none the worse for wear after her ordeal with the Var kidnappers, but she also wasn’t speaking of it.

“I thought mine was a prison guard,” Pia chuckled to herself, unamused. Just another one of Zoran’s lies.

“I used to call mine a barbarian,” Morrigan mused, tucking her hand beneath her head on the high-backed chair. Mumbling softly she said, so as not to disturb her delicate head, “And a caveman.”

The women chuckled. Nadja just blushed shyly, and admitted, “I call mine a dragon.”

“They’re all dragons, if you ask me.” Morrigan winked at Nadja.

Nadja halfheartedly laughed as she rose to answer a summons from the door. Blinking in surprise to see the queen, she allowed her in.

Queen Mede stepped into the intimate circle of women and nodded. “I heard you were all hiding out here.”

Pia turned her eyes down, not wanting the woman to try and cheer them from their mutual sulk. Misery loves company and the princesses were beyond miserable.

“How’s Yusef?” Olena asked, trying to pretend like she wasn’t concerned with the answer.

“Still awake,” the queen said. “And still with his brothers. They speak of fighting, and fighting always makes warriors happy, for it is something they know how to do.”

Olena nodded, leaning back in her chair and trying to pretend like she didn’t care either way. No one was fooled.

Queen Mede glanced at the hung-over Morrigan and raised her delicate brow slightly. Morrigan had to turn away. To her credit, the queen said nothing.

Nadja suddenly asked if anyone wanted something to drink. Morrigan balked and instantly declined, turning a shade paler. They all laughed, despite their mood.

“No, dear, we’re fine,” the queen answered. A long silence followed. As if she could no longer take it, Queen Mede loudly said, “My sons are great men, but they are sometimes too stubborn for their own good.”

The princesses looked at her expectantly. Pia’s eyes narrowed as she studied the woman. Queen Mede came forward and took a seat amongst them, looking them over in turn.

“Enough of this wallowing. This planet is in desperate need of more women and I intend to see that each one of you explore the powers you possess,” the queen said.

Pia sat forward in curiosity to hear the woman out.

“Your husbands are warriors,” Queen Mede stated. “I expect each of you has a clear idea now of what that means. But just because they made the rules, doesn’t mean you can’t use them. You have more power than you think. I’m going to tell you something my mother said to me before I married the king. I never forgot it. She said, ‘Medellyn, men like to be men. Let them think they are in charge of everything. It’s a happy delusion. If you act like they do, you will only have male tools at your disposal—and let’s face facts, men’s natural abilities do not rest in their common sense. They need women to help them. They don’t always admit it, especially these alpha dragon types, but in many ways a woman’s gifts are so much more powerful than brute strength.’”

Pia lowered her eyes, thinking about the advice. She’d never had a mother to say those kinds of things to her.

“I like your mother,” Olena said.

“She was an amazing mother and I was such a hardheaded daughter,” the queen said. “I used to think she was so weak for never standing up to anyone, until the day she manipulated me into going to the wedding ceremony. That’s when I knew her real strength came in her gentle ways.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Morrigan said, “but is there any chance you have more of those sugar cookie biscuit things lying around? I ate all of the ones you left with me.”

Pia automatically turned, interested in that answer as well. Those things had been delightful.

Queen Mede gave a small chuckle. “That was my mother’s recipe.”

Morrigan nestled her head against her arm. “Mmm, I like your mother, too.”

“Will we meet her?” Nadja asked.

The queen shook her head in denial. “No. She has long passed.”

“I’m sorry,” Nadja said.

“So, daughters,” the queen paused, eyeing each one, “tell me your problems with my sons and I will give you the Qurilixian solution. I think it’s time that the royal women had the upper hand for once. I have waited too many years to see my sons married to let them ruin my plans now.”

If Pia gave the queen a chance it was possible she could have a very powerful ally. It was time she got the upper hand against Zoran. No more of this sulking. She was going to beat the warrior at his own game.

Slowly, one by one, the women smiled. The queen nodded, happy.

“Pia,” the queen began, looking pointedly at the woman. In that moment, Pia was well aware the queen knew her hesitance for her, but was being patient. “Why don’t you go first?”

Pia sat up, looking around at her new family. Something struck inside of her. This was exactly what she wanted. It’s what her life had been missing ever since her world exploded that night all those years ago. She wanted a home. She wanted a place to belong and to fight for. And—to steal one of Zoran’s phrases—by all that was sacred, she was going to have it, whether her commander of a husband liked it or not.

Chapter 35

Zoran hurried home, his heart hammering in his chest. He’d been visiting with Olek and Yusef in the medical wing, waiting for his injured brother to get the final results from his most recent blood test so that he could leave the medical ward, when the queen’s servant came to retrieve him.

Leading him into the hall, the servant had given him a missive from his mother. It said the queen had been to his house and there was an emergency at home. She didn’t indicated what may have happened, but it had something to do with Pia and a sword.

Thinking she’d hurt herself again, he ran to be with her. The door slid open and he rushed inside, his heart thudding in fear, his whole body tense. His eyes flew to the couch, remembering how he’d come home to find her with the medic.

With a sense of urgency, his voice hoarse, he called out, “Pia!”

“In here,” came the soft answer from his bedroom. He looked, seeing that the door was no longer blocked. Rushing forward, he was desperate to see for himself that she was well. Once in the bedroom, his eyes darted around. Nothing.

Suddenly, a sword poked into his back. Pia’s voice washed over him, as she commanded, “Move and I’ll skewer you.”

Zoran tensed, ready to do battle, but her next words stopped him from disarming her.

“Prince Zoran, Captain of the Guard, you are now my prisoner,” Pia stated.

Zoran waited to see what she would do with him. The blade again poked his back. His groin filled—hardening and becoming eagerly erect. He breathed deeply, detecting the awakening perfume of her passion as she dominated him. Her smell drove his enhanced senses into madness. The beast within him stirred with lust until he could only think of taking her. Excitement and fierce desire flooded him at the dangerous game she played.

Pia stood behind her husband and grinned. She wore one of his dark tunics with a red dragon surrounded by a shield on the chest and nothing else. Her bare legs poked out from beneath the shirt. Her eyes unabashedly roamed over the firm ass of her prisoner.

The queen had been most helpful in her advice to the princesses, and now that Pia had a plan of action, she felt three-hundred percent better. Queen Mede told her that with a man like Zoran, she needed to be bold. She had to command the commander, conquer the conqueror, in order for him to respect her completely.

Zoran was used to being in charge, doing what he wanted, having every order followed. Her husband answered only to one man, the king. So, in order to earn his trust and his respect, she had to be the one in charge—bold and unflinching, in absolute control. She had to make him realize that he had to answer to someone much more important than a king. He had to answer to a wife.

“Pia,” he began in warning.

“On your knees, prisoner,” Pia ordered. When he didn’t readily obey, she kicked him in the back of the knee, forcing him to drop to the floor. “You will speak only when asked a direct question. Do you understand?”

Zoran said nothing. His jaw lifted.

Pia chuckled, letting him hear that she was unconcerned with his defiance. “I have ways of making you talk, prisoner.”

“Take off your shirt,” she said. “Let me see that you have no weapons.”

Zoran grinned as if he couldn’t help himself. With one swift movement, he obeyed. He tossed his shirt to the side and she discovered a knife next to his back.

The tip of her sword slowly edged over his shoulder by his neck. His head turned slightly as if he watched the blade. It barely missed the tender flesh of his throat. She took the knife from his waist and tossed it aside.

Pia studied the hard lines of his back. Not a measure of fat marred his flawless body, as muscles sculpted his taut flesh in a symphony of masculine perfection. “Put your hands above your head before I cut it off.”

Zoran stubbornly refused. The blade dipped, brushing his skin lightly as she lifted his chin up with the blade. He lifted his hands and placed them on the back of his head.

Pia lashed his wrists tightly together with leather straps. He could have fought her, struck her down while her hands were busy tying him, but he waited, letting her plan unravel.

Pia took advantage of the view and looked over his back and arms, liking the way his muscles bulged beneath his flesh. She was erotically pleased by the contrast of dark leather restraints to his wrists.

“Now what?” Zoran chuckled, mockingly.

Pia shook herself back into action. With the back of her hand, she knocked him over the head. “Quiet!”

Zoran instantly obeyed. His breathing deepened.

Throwing a long strip of leather rope over a high beam on the ceiling, she tied one end to Zoran’s hands and pulled. Zoran was forced to stand, his hands brought high. Pia tied the other end to his wrists as well, trapping him up.

She smiled, very pleased with herself. As she came around to face him, she rested the sword over her shoulder. Zoran’s brown gaze dipped over her attire. His eyes glinted with golden purpose, causing her to frown.

“Shift and I’ll be forced to run you through,” she warned, her expression serious. As if to prove her point, she took the sword to his waist and held it to his stomach. Zoran tensed, his eyes daring her, challenging her to lose her composure.

Pia enjoyed the game immensely and didn’t even flinch at his fiery look. She moved to set the sword on the floor beside her.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Zoran said, like a good defiant prisoner. His jaw hardened.

“I already have.”

“What do you want?”

“In due time,” she said, “but first...”

Pia made a great show of studying him. Her eyes moved over his nipples, already budded with the excitement of his straining body. His long hair fell over his shoulders, a lock caught between his determined eyes to slash across his bold nose. Every defined ridge of his stomach flexed with his deep breath. Taking a finger to the center of his chest, she pressed her nail, scratching down to his navel to the little trail of hair she found there.

“Let’s just make sure you don’t have any more weapons hidden, shall we?” It wasn’t lost on her, as she unlaced his pants, that his entire body was a hot, hard weapon. With a jerk, she tugged the material from his hips, baring him to her completely. His pants fell around his ankles. Pia eyed the full length of him, already at full arousal. She almost lost her composure, but quickly caught herself.

“Why don’t you disarm that weapon?” he suggested, his voice a guttural plea. “It looks as if it could be dangerous.”

Zoran’s body tensed when it looked as if her hand was going to touch him, but at the last minute, her course changed and she leaned over to take a knife from his boot. Bouncing it on her hand, she turned and threw it across the room, embedding it into the wall

“I think I can handle it,” she answered, turning back. “Besides, only good prisoners are rewarded in such ways.”

Zoran’s eyes lit. He instantly understood the rules of her game.

“Kick off your boots.”

Zoran obeyed, kicking off his pants in the process to stand before her naked.

“Ah,” she nodded in approval. “Glad to see you understand who is in charge here.”

“Where’s my reward?” he asked, his body straining for her.

“What do you want?” She pursed her lips together, looking him over.

“Your clothes,” he answered, eyeing her with a hunger. “Take them off.”

“What?” Pia asked, smiling prettily. She took up the edge of the tunic and lifted it over her thighs. Giving him only the barest peek of her nether hair, she dropped it back down. Zoran groaned in protest. “Sorry, you are in no position to command me.”

“Untie me, Pia,” he ordered. His body lurched as if he would free himself.

“No, I have a few questions for you first.”

“What?” His eyes darkened suspiciously. Suddenly, he pulled with renewed force to be free. The binds were too tight. Silly dragon if he thought she didn’t know how to tie a person up.

“Tell me about the Var threat.”

“There’s no threat—”

Pia slapped him across the face, leaving the imprint of her hand. She demanded again, louder, “What is the Var threat?”

“They have been sensed outside the forest. It’s believed that they plan to overthrow us and take the Draig throne. It’s possible they seek to harm anyone of the royal family, though they more than likely will go after the king and queen first,” Zoran answered. She already knew as much but was glad he confirmed it. Finally.

Pia stepped to him. He tried to pull away, but she pressed her body against him and lifted up onto her toes. To his obvious surprise, she dragged her tongue slowly over his cheek where she’d struck him only to lightly suck the tip of his ear between her teeth and bite.

Pia felt his heartbeat quicken. She soothed the bite with her lips, before whispering, “Much better, prisoner.”

When she pulled back, his eyes were swirling golden fire. Pia drew her hand into the sensitive bend off his throat before trailing down.

“Why did you not tell me this before?”

Zoran didn’t answer. Pia frowned up at him and flicked his nipple with her nail. His body jerked.

“Why?” she insisted. Again she flicked him. Zoran closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure.

“I wanted to protect you from it,” he said, as if mindless to the words. He clearly didn’t want her to stop her torture.

Pia rewarded him with soft licks to his erect nipples. He rewarded her with a groan of longing so intense it shook her to the core.

“What do we know for sure?” she asked.

When he didn’t readily answer, she lifted her tunic to reveal her upper thighs. His head turned, eagerly waiting for her unveiling. She stopped right before she reached her naked sex.

“We know the Var have been...” He swallowed and tilted his head more. She lifted the tunic higher. “They’ve been overbold as of late. We...” She revealed a hip and parted her legs. “We know they plan something, we just can’t seem to discover what.”

When his words stopped her movement stopped. Zoran tilted his head as far to the side as it would reach. The tunic was high enough he’d be able to see the bottom curve of her breasts.

“We believe they have broken into the royal offices to study blueprints of the palace,” he offered hopefully.

Pia tossed the tunic over her head and stood before him naked. Zoran’s mouth opened, ready to devour her.

“Pia,” Zoran moaned, the words were a plea. His eyes dipped over her. In his most commanding tone, he ordered her, “Untie me now.”

“One more thing,” she said instead. “What are we doing about this problem?”

“The war council has been called to meet tomorrow,” he rushed. “It’s our law that the Var be given a chance to defend themselves before we declare war. The noble households have been alerted and those who wish to will come. Now, untie me.”

Pia eyed him one last time, taking the opportunity to go to him. Lifting her hand to his erect member, she boldly stroked it. His face tightened as she played with him.

“Good prisoner,” she murmured in a most seductive tone.

“Climb on me,” Zoran urged, thrusting his hips into her fingers as he dipped his face forward in an effort to catch her lips. He missed. “And I’ll show you how good I really am.”

Pia backed away from him. Her body was heady with power in the face of his need. She’d learned what she needed to for now. Turning around, she didn’t think as she bent over to pick up the sword.

Zoran groaned as her ass poked toward him. He lurched against his ties. They wouldn’t give. It didn’t stop him from trying. Pia smiled. Slowly rising, she stopped with her backside still pushed out to him as she glanced over her shoulder. He was fighting his restraints with a force she had never seen in him.

“Oh,” she teased. “Do you like it when I do that?”

He nodded, reduced to nothing more than grunts and moans. His nostrils flared, as if smelling her. She detected a slight shifting above his eyes as his brows lowered.

Pia turned with the sword. She blinked with innocence. “I would let you go, but I’m scared you might try to punish me for my insolence. I might just have to leave you there.”

Zoran growled, his expression saying he had every intention of punishing her in the most pleasurable way possible.

Pia was surprised when he still didn’t speak. His skin darkened along his cheeks, as if he was reduced to the most basic of primal instincts. He was a dragon, and by the look in his eyes, he was going to free himself and mate.

She swung the sword over his head, breaking through the leather that held him to the ceiling. His bound wrists dropped, still tied. He stalked toward her. Pia dropped her sword in her haste to back up. Zoran lunged. His wrists hooked over her head, capturing her to him.

He breathed in ragged pants for a moment, as he reveled in his capture of her. Then, he ordered, “Get on your hands and knees.”

Pia gasped at the force in him as he threw her toward the bed. She landed on her stomach. Zoran was instantly behind her with his supernatural speed, kneeling as he forced her legs apart. He hooked his wrists around her neck and pulled her to kneel before him. She groaned in excitement of his rough passion.

Zoran aimed, too far gone to stop himself as his animalistic needs took over. Striking with a calculated accuracy, he pulled back on her neck to embed her completely on his shaft. He shouted in gratification. Pia gasped. His thighs pushed her legs apart, opening her helplessly to him.

Controlling her with his bound wrists Zoran thrust, driving hard and fast as he rode her in frenzied passion. He forced her to match his need, howling and grunting his enthusiasm behind her.

Pia thrilled in the uncontrolled claiming. Soon she was pushed beyond all reason.

Zoran pumped his hips, slamming her onto his thick erection. It was the most magnificent feeling of indulgence and power. Even as he controlled the movement, Pia somehow knew she had all the power over him.

Pia screamed, moaned, gasped, breathlessly begging for him to continue. His name left her lips with a desperate plea for more. She couldn’t take it, she felt the end coming for her, and she felt him riding her higher, higher—ahhh! Pia tensed, trembling uncontrollably as she quaked in climax.

Building wonderful friction with each thrust, Zoran didn’t slow, plunging faster, faster, deeper, claiming. Her moist heat quivered around him and with a yell he tensed. His hold around her neck tightened as he spilled his seed within her. Her body sung with delight, and Pia licked her lips. Jerking her back onto him a few last times, marking her as his, Zoran rode the tremors out, frozen behind her like a statue. Pia groaned as he unhooked her neck and allowed her to fall to the mattress.

Zoran shivered as she slid off his lowering arousal. She’d conquered his heart with her bold ways. She commanded him completely.

Sanity gradually returned. He looked down, guilt trying to invade him as he realized what he had done. Pia didn’t move. He climbed back. To his surprise, she rolled over. A soft purr came from her throat as she looked at him. Her neck was red from where he’d controlled her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

She stood before him. Grabbing onto his bound wrists and giving them a firm jerk of control, she eyed his lowering member and said, “Where do you think you are going, prisoner? Your punishment isn’t over yet.”

Zoran’s surprise increased tenfold. She’d enjoyed his rough passion as much as he.

Pia jerked his arms again and moved her fingers to his spent manhood. Taking him firmly in hand, she decreed, “I’ll give you time to recover. But mark my words captive, you will be showing me more of that.”

Zoran’s eyes narrowed. Oh, he had a lot more to show her. His cock twitched in her hand. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but his member tried to rise to the occasion.

“So how many times can you go?” she challenged. Pia smiled mischievously. Looking his naked body over, her brow rose and she asked, “And exactly how many different ways does this thing work?”

Chapter 36

Zoran was exhausted, having no desire to get out of bed and leave the warmth of his wife’s body. Pia snuggled into his side, her head resting on his arm. Seeing her parted lips, he could not stop himself from kissing her.

Pia moaned sleepily in protest against his mouth, although she didn’t draw away. Weakly, she mumbled, “No, Zoran, no more. You are freed from prison.”

His cock was too sore to even contemplate another bout so soon. He chuckled, teasing softly against her temple, “But you said one more time.”

Pia lifted one very lazy lid to eye him. She had indeed said one more time, but that was last night and they’d done it one more time, and one more, and one more...

“Tyrant,” she said before laughing sleepily.

“I take it you no longer want to shove my nose into my skull,” he whispered. His light kisses found her temple as his nose nudged her.

Pia finally managed to open both eyes to look at him. Eyeing him seriously, she said, “You shouldn’t have lied to me.”

Zoran’s smile faded. “I didn’t mean to lie. I meant to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

“Pia,” Zoran began only to sigh. It was getting late and he needed to meet with the war council. Already his brothers were probably waiting for him. “It’s my duty to protect you and every other person under Draig rule. I know you can handle yourself, but don’t ask me not to do my duty.”

She appeared too tired to pick a fight. So instead, she teased, “Well, you might lead the Draig armies, prisoner, but I command you.”

“Is that so?” Zoran laughed at her audacity. But as he studied her lovely face, surrounded by her tousled blonde hair, he knew it was true. She did command him. He would never dare to admit as much to her.

“Mm,” Pia agreed. A mischievous smile came over her lips. “Hey, I guess that means I really control the Draig armies.”

“If you had a need of them, I would gladly send them to conquer the world,” he said gallantly.

“Only the world? Not the universe?”

“The universe, too.” He gave a tired yawn. “Multi-verse. Outer verse. Inner verse. A poet’s verse. Whatever verse you wish, my lady.”

“Poet verse?”

“I would gladly conquer bad bards for you. They are a nuisance.”

Nodding her chin down his body, she teased, “I saw that your weapon leaked during sex, but I had no idea it leaked the brains out of your head. You’re rambling and being silly, commander.”

Pia’s cheeks pinkened when he arched a brow and followed her gaze down to his spent cock.

Zoran’s hearty laughter filled the bedroom. He was amazed she could still be embarrassed after the night they’d had. Knowing he needed to get dressed, he finally pulled away from her. Thinking on her words, he ran a hand onto her stomach and whispered, “No, not my brains, but, perhaps my son.”

Her expression became blank. Sitting, she pulled the covers with her. His hand fell off her stomach, as he too moved to get up.

Zoran saw her reaction and was sorry for it. It didn’t seem like she had changed her mind in that regard. She didn’t want his sons. It might already be too late for her to decide against pregnancy. They’d come together often, and it was possible that even now his child grew within her. Would she resent him for it? Would she do the unthinkable and try to end it? Deciding it was better not to mention that little fact, he let the subject drop.

“Don’t you have to be there in order for the war council to convene?” she asked.

Zoran smiled, remembering how she broke him under torture. She’d gotten that piece of information out of him when he taught her that kissing and sucking weren’t only for mouths and tongues. As a hardened warrior, he might have shamed himself by caving so easily to her soft lips, but it had definitely been worth it.

“Yes,” Zoran groaned. Picking his crumpled war council tunic off the floor, he shook it out.

“Are you sure I can’t go with you?”

“Princesses aren’t allowed, only occasionally the queen,” he answered. “Besides, they are terribly dull. We basically grunt and stare at each other for hours and refuse to answer each other’s questions.”

“Grunting and staring,” Pia giggled softly, giving his body a meaningful look. “I don’t see anything boring about that.”

King Attor denied all charges with his usual insolence. As long as he was under the protection of the convened council, he wouldn’t be touched. Nothing was accomplished during the seven hours of talks. But, then again, nothing had been accomplished in the centuries of fighting that had occurred between the two kingdoms. Death attempts on both sides were nothing new, though none had occurred for over a hundred years.

Zoran was in charge of military matters, representing the Draig, with a Var warrior of equal ranking opposite him. Olek presided over the whole affair, doing his best as ambassador to keep the peace, though all the brothers knew he would like nothing more than to spill King Attor’s blood for his insults to the royal Draig family.

After the meeting, it took another four and a half hours to ensure that Attor and his men were gone. A thorough search of the castle revealed nothing, and the high alert was taken off the village so that the villagers could again leave their homes using caution.

Zoran was exhausted from his night with Pia. It was hard not to grin during negotiations every time he thought about it. His vixen wife had drained him dry. However, strangely, his body was eager to go back to her. He wondered if he could give her another night of passion. His body was willing to try.

He stripped from his clothing and climbed into bed beside his sleeping wife. He knew that soon they might be facing another war with the House of Var.

Feeling Zoran’s arms around her waist, Pia yawned, turning to look at him.

“What happened?” she asked, dying to know. She’d tried to wait up for him, but had fallen asleep. She’d spent most of the day poking at her stomach, trying to see if anything was different. Not sure what signs to look for, she just sighed. She didn’t look fatter. Aside from the numbing sensation created by a night of loving, she didn’t ache. Pia wasn’t sure what to think of being a mother. She knew nothing about motherhood or pregnancy.

“Nothing was achieved,” he admitted.

Pia sighed, sensing the truth in his words.

Reaching behind him, he pulled out a box and set in on her chest. “I wanted to give you something.”

Pia blinked, looking down. The wooden box was old and very worn. “What is it?”

“A gift.”

To her surprise, she noticed he almost seemed embarrassed. That piqued her curiosity. “For what reason?”

“I was going to give it to you the night of your coronation, after we got home, but...well,” he lightly shrugged. “So much happened I never had a chance.”

“What is it?” she asked again, almost too scared to touch it.

“Just open it.”

Pia did, unhooking the delicate latch. Inside were five very beautiful knives. They were used, but in good shape. Touching the engraved silver hilt encrusted with black onyx, she whispered, “They’re beautiful.”

“I know they’re old, but they were the set given to me by my parents on the day I became a man. I don’t know, maybe I should’ve gotten you jewelry instead.”

“Are you kidding?” Pia countered in excitement. “You can’t maim a man with a set of earrings. These are perfect.”

Zoran chuckled, nuzzling her neck with a soft trail of kisses. “Ah, my bloodthirsty wench.”

“Can I try them out tomorrow? I’ve been promising to teach the other princesses how to throw knives. It will be perfect!”

“Who do you want me to get as your target? I believe Hume is still fairly taken with you,” Zoran offered.

Pia punched him. “I meant the knife post out at the field.”

“I don’t see why not,” Zoran said. “We can go tomorrow morning if you like.”

Pia lifted each knife in turn as she spoke. When Zoran tried to move the box away, she growled and made as if to bite his hand.

“You can’t sleep with them.” He buried his face into his pillow and yawned.

“But—”

“No, I’m enforcing my will in this.”

Pia giggled but let him take the box and set it on the floor. He came back to wrap his arm around her warm body, trying to dig his fingers beneath her cotton shirt to the flesh at her waist.

She stroked back the hair from his face, saying, “Good night.”

Zoran kissed the tip of her nose. Pia turned in his arms and pretended to go asleep. It wouldn’t do to keep tempting fate until she learned a little bit more about this pregnancy thing. She’d have asked Nadja, but the castle had been on high alert and she hadn’t been allowed to leave her home.

“Goodnight, Pia,” Zoran sighed, nuzzling her neck. Holding her in his arms, he fell asleep.

Chapter 37

Pia nodded in pride as Olena took aim at the post. The woman did well, as each knife made it into the center. The gathered soldiers clapped and stomped in approval. Pia had the impression that, had she not insisted Zoran let the princesses take over the practice field, the warriors would have been knee deep in some grueling task.

Olena constantly glanced at her husband, Yusef, trying to act like she didn’t seek his approval. A white bandage slashed across the man’s arm, but he looked much better than when Pia saw him in the medical ward.

“Just like I told you,” Pia whispered to Nadja. “Breathe and aim.”

No matter how much instruction Pia gave Nadja, the woman was hopeless when it came to wielding a blade. Nadja missed the target completely on all five tries. The fact she managed to throw the knives in the right direction was the only positive thing Pia could say about the woman’s throw.

Nadja, too, glanced at her husband. Pia was thankful that the watching men applauded anyway. She liked Nadja and did not fault her for her lack of warrior skills.

Morrigan managed to hit the post on her turn, though they weren’t centered. She curtsied as she received her cheers. Ualan wasn’t there to watch her victory. She had told Pia that her husband was still sleeping.

“Maybe you ladies should let a man show you how it’s done,” a familiar voice from the crowd called.

“Ach,” Agro cried. “You’re hardly a man, Hume!”

Pia flashed a grin at Hume, who immediately crushed his hand over his heart. She took the new set of knives Zoran had given her, weighing them carefully in her hand as she tested them. Getting to the third one, she lifted it and studied the blade. Frowning, she went to her husband and handed it to him. Zoran uncrossed his arms and took it from her, letting his finger slyly glide over the pulse at her wrist. His mouth twitched but gave nothing away as Pia shivered.

Pia looked him directly in the eye, moving her hands to his hip, she lifted his tunic aside and let her nail scrape lightly over his skin as she retrieved a replacement blade from the back side of his waist. His stomach tensed, but his face gave nothing away as she withdrew a blade and began testing it as she had the others. His eyes, however, glinted with just enough liquid fire to leave her very excited.

When he glanced curiously at the replacement blade, she announced loudly for all the men to hear, “You need to check the balance on that one. It will pull a fraction to the right.”

Hardly moving a muscle, Zoran threw the blade over her shoulder. It stuck just to the right of the target. The men laughed heartily in approval.

Not turning around, Pia said, “Told you.”

Zoran’s lip curled up at the side. He waited for his wife to take her first turn, as if he wanted to judge her skill for himself.

Going before the target, Pia took a deep breath. She’d seen the challenge in Zoran’s gaze. She would make him proud.

Flinging one of the blades at the post, she didn’t wait for it to land before rapidly dropping to the ground to throw two more while rolling. Then, coming to kneel, she threw the last two. The fourth blade struck against Zoran’s to knock it free, before sticking in its place. On the fifth throw, she turned her arm and it missed the post completely. The warriors watched in stunned silence, their eyes following the path of her last throw. It was a foot before Hume, sticking hilt up and tipped forward to the man.

“You missed,” Hume said, to break the silence. The men went wild cheering. Pia took a graceful bow. The princesses jumped in excitement, basking in Pia’s victory.

Pia and Olena exchanged looks of amusement as Morrigan’s husband appeared in the distance. Morrigan’s face lit up in pleasure to see him.

“Careful,” Olena teased Morrigan, pulling close to the woman. “Or else we might think you actually like the barbarian.”

Morrigan blushed, turning her eyes away. Pia handed Olena the blades for her next turn.

Ualan went to Zoran. Pia watched as her husband frowned, worried that something may have happened with the Var. Without uncrossing his arms, Zoran nodded his jaw to where Morrigan stood. Pia relaxed. Ualan merely searched for his wife.

“Olena, are you ready to…” Pia began. Olena gazed at Yusef, not hearing her. Pia, seeing the woman’s expression, nudged her and teased, “It would seem Rigan isn’t the only one enamored by her warrior husband.”

Olena let a mischievous smile light her eyes. “We’ve got a bet going. All I have to do is hit this post with these five blades and I win.”

“Come,” Prince Ualan announced.

Pia and Olena watched Ualan leading Morrigan off to the forest.

“Zoran tried to lead me around like that,” Pia said, shaking her head in disapproval. “I kicked and screamed and I nearly got away, too. I did get a few good punches in.”

Olena laughed, “I hid in the forest for a night, but broke my arm. Yusef had to come and rescue me.”

“We’re waiting!” came a cry from the crowd.

Pia glared good-humoredly at Hume. “Don’t make me aim higher, Sir Hume.”

Pia meant his chest, but the rowdy warriors were only too ready to guess something much bawdier.

Zoran frowned. Pia looked in confusion at the men’s snickering. Olena laughed.

Pia crossed over to Zoran as Olena threw. Standing beside him and affecting a similar, cross-armed stance, she said from the side of her mouth, “What did I just say?”

“You indicated you were going to rid him of his manhood,” Zoran said, cracking a smile.

“Oh,” came her reply. Pia bit her lips, but gave nothing away. “Want to wager on my next throw?”

Zoran turned to look at her. “What did you have in mind?”

“If I hit the post five times, I win,” she stated under her breath.

“Too easy,” he dismissed, shaking his head.

“Blindfolded?” she suggested.

“No consideration for distractions,” he added. “You miss, you lose.”

“Fine,” Pia said. They barely looked at each other. To everyone else it would seem like they discussed Olena’s technique. Olena threw her last blade. It hit, but went too far to the side and instantly fell back out with the weight of the hilt. The men cheered as she went to retrieve them. Nadja, who was standing by Olek, waved away her turn, too embarrassed to try again.

“What are the stakes?” Zoran asked.

“When I win, you have to...dance for me,” she answered. A small blush threatened her at the admission.

“I would do that anyway,” he answered with an unashamed shrug.

“No clothes,” she added boldly.

“If you miss, you wear no clothes, too,” he said, instantly taken with the idea. “And we both dance.”

Pia turned red, but she knew she wouldn’t miss. “Fine.”

“Agreed,” he said. A little tremor racked up her spine.

Olena was looking at her expectantly, holding out the knives.

“We need a blindfold,” Zoran called. The call was quickly answered as one was passed over the crowd to Zoran. The prince crossed over to Pia and tied it around her head. Leaning into her ear, he said, “Perhaps we should keep this blindfold. It might be fun.”

Pia blushed profusely. Zoran smacked her hard on her ass and the men laughed. Quietly he backed up. Pia took a deep breath trying to remember where the post was. Luckily, she’d angled her foot when Zoran tied the blindfold on.

“Make your throw!” Zoran called.

Pia lifted her arm, taking aim. Holding her breath, she threw, hearing the blade land on wood. She threw the second and third time. Each blade landed in the post. Suddenly, a loud cheering came up over the crowd.

She had no doubt that Zoran motioned the men to make noise.

Pia lifted the blade, trying to concentrate over the shouts. She threw. The fourth hit, though it didn’t sound as deep as the others.

“Oooo,” the men in unison shouted.

“Zoran!” came a sudden panicked shout. “Olek! Yusef!”

Pia frowned, recognizing Prince Ualan’s voice. She tore the blindfold from her head. Agro motioned the men to stay where they were. Seeing movement, she watched Zoran run toward his brother’s panicked call. He held his sword and the blade slashed through the air as he ran. Yusef and Olek were right behind him, also armed for battle. Pia didn’t think. She took off into the forest after the men. The last throwing knife was gripped tightly in her hand. She heard the lighter steps of Olena and Nadja following her.

Twelve light blond Var warriors pursued Prince Ualan from the trees, over the forest path. Their bodies grew with fur as they shifted with the vicious, snarling features of wild cats. Ualan dragged Morrigan with one arm. She was unconscious, a dart sticking out from her throat.

Ualan had been forced to shift to his dragon form as he used his free arm to deflect the enemy’s blows as he fought them off. He tried to protect Morrigan whose feet trailed in the dirt. Soon the princes were by his side, shifting into Draig as they fought against the Var. Even the one-armed Yusef bravely hacked forward with his sword. They gave Ualan enough time to get Morrigan to safety.

Ualan dropped his wife behind the battle on the ground and rejoined the fight against the cat-shifters. Pia didn’t hesitate as she ran to help the men, throwing her blade into one of the creature’s throats. As Zoran swung his arm, she ducked beneath him, grabbing a knife from his belt.

Soon the Var were retreating into the forest. Pia crossed over to one of the fallen men and took the two blades she’d used from their unmoving necks. Ualan nodded his thanks at her. Zoran turned to his wife in pride, shifting back.

Ualan took off down the path, Yusef and Olek were behind him. Zoran hung back, looking at his wife. Not bothering to clean his sword, he sheathed it.

“You did well,” he said. “You did not hesitate to protect the family.”

Pia lit up at the compliment.

“Do we give chase?” she asked, motioning to where the Var retreated.

“No,” he answered. “Let them go for now.”

Pia crossed over to him and, wiping his blade on her pant leg, she looked deeply into his eyes as she slid it back into place. She let her fingers linger on his waist.

“You owe me a dance, wife.” He grinned with a meaningful nod at her blade. “That one missed the post.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I demand a re-throw, I—”

“Tsk, tsk,” Zoran answered, his eyes flashing. “We had a wager. Distractions don’t count. I want my dance.”

“Let’s go check on Rigan,” Pia said, shooting him a challenging look. She was thrilled by the answering promise in his eyes.

Zoran laughed. “You do not lose gracefully, do you?”

“Rigan,” she repeated.

“Yes, and after we can go find that blindfold,” he whispered.

They followed drag marks to where Olena and Nadja had pulled Morrigan away from the fray. As Zoran and Pia approached, Nadja was kneeling by Morrigan and looking at Prince Ualan. The dart was still in Morrigan’s neck. Pia frowned in concern. Nadja sighed heavily and whispered, “Let me think. I need to concentrate.”

Pia glanced at Zoran, moving quietly closer to his embrace.

“Give me your knife,” Nadja said to Pia.

Pia instantly handed it over. Taking a deep breath, Nadja cut into Morrigan’s throat where the dart embedded into the skin. Instantly, green began to drip and ooze from the wound. Soon, she had the star tipped points of the dart out of the woman’s neck. Nadja dropped the blade and continued to bleed the poison.

Pia turned to Zoran to whisper, “Why would they target Morrigan and not your brother?”

Zoran didn’t answer.

“It’s as I thought,” Nadja said. “I’ve seen this kind of poison before. Usually jealous old lovers do it for revenge. If you had torn the dart out of the skin, it would have released a poison into the blood stream. She would have lived, but you would never have been able to touch her again. It’s ironic really. That way, it is the current lover who poisons the woman, sealing their fate. You should get her to a doctor.”

Nadja stood, warily trying to edge away from them. Her round eyes looked over each of the brothers before turning toward the forest.

“I would say that whoever poisoned her didn’t want you to be with her,” Nadja said to Ualan. Within seconds she was running away from them. Olek was right behind her.

Olena stood, watching the woman. “She didn’t know about the Draig.”

Poor Nadja. Pia almost went after her to make sure she wasn’t too scared. Nadja was so delicate and sweet. Surely such things as dragon-shifters would terrify the poor soul.

Ualan picked up his wife and carried her toward the medical ward.

Pia touched Zoran’s arm in question. He looked down at her before motioning that they were to follow Ualan. No one said another word.

Chapter 38

“Why do they attack the princesses?” Yusef frowned. Olena stood by his side, her expression giving nothing away. Nadja and Olek hadn’t joined them, but Zoran and Pia stood next to Ualan. Morrigan was on the hospital bed, having been checked by the doctors and given some medicine to help her recovery.

Zoran’s hand came around her waist and he touched her lower stomach. The gesture caused Pia to think of her husband’s tender hand on her belly when he mentioned the possibility of her pregnancy. During the night, while he slept, his hand had found a hold on her lower abdomen and she’d lain awake wondering at the naturally slow circles of his twitching fingers on her skin. It hadn’t been hard to conclude what he’d been dreaming about. With sudden insight, she whispered, “Because without us you will have no sons. Your line will end.”

Zoran stiffened at her soft words and looked at her, his eyes searching.

Pia stiffened. She was very aware that further talk about pregnancy would be better handled when they were alone. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I’ve seen you all fight. Especially with all four of you banded together, you would be a formidable opponent. You expect the attack. We are new here and it would be assumed that we had no clear idea of the dangers. Plus, we are women. Men—ah, no offense to anyone here—men, especially those from warrior classes, often misjudge women as unworthy opponents.”

The princes listened closely to her words, giving away none of their thoughts.

Pia gazed up at her husband. Her features were pulled with concentration. “If you were to destroy an enemy, Zoran, would you attack their weakness or their strength?”

“Only a fool would choose to fight a strength if a weakness was to be had,” Ualan said, nodding at the insight.

“Only they have obviously underestimated the strength of our women,” Zoran added. Pia felt her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink.

“What better way to end this age-old feud than to wipe out the leaders before they are born?” Yusef frowned, unconsciously drawing Olena under the protection of his good arm.

“For, if we were to die,” Ualan added, “there would be an heir that could sometime rise against them. If they ensure that our line is ended, when we die there will be no one to avenge us. With no king or protection, our people will be left without defense. Everything will be in chaos.”

“It’s imperative that we discover who is spying for the Var,” Yusef said. Whoever had stabbed him knew the back passages well enough to escape through them.

“Spy?” Pia questioned, blinking. She turned to frown at Zoran. Why hadn’t he mentioned it when she was interrogating him? “You said nothing of a spy.”

Zoran sighed.

“Olena,” Pia said. “You remember that servant at the festival, don’t you? The one who spilled his drink? It has to be him. He was no more fitted to be a servant than I am.”

Olena shook her head, clearly not recalling the man.

“What are you talking about?” Zoran demanded, turning to study her eyes.

“There are too many servants in the kingdom,” Ualan said. “For festivals many come to help. It would take forever to locate them all, just to find this one.”

“No,” Pia said. “He was at the coronation. The spy would be here in the palace kitchens. I remember watching him fumble with some plates. He only carried two, unlike the other servants who carried four or more. It has to be him. He was graceless when it came to serving. Yet there was something different about his walk, and his hand had a sword callous along the ridge. I would almost bet my life he was your man.”

Morrigan said through her hoarse voice, “I recorded that night on my camera.”

Everyone turned to look at her.

Sheepishly, she admitted, “I’m an undercover reporter for an intergalactic newspaper chip.”

Ualan stiffened but didn’t stop her from speaking.

“I was supposed to write a story about the royal weddings,” she continued. Turning to Ualan, she said, “My camera will have recorded part of that night. Maybe Pia’s servant can be found on the relay.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Yusef said.

“I’ll go find it.” Ualan left the hospital room, his movements stiff. It was silent until he returned. When he did, he handed a small eyepiece and an emerald to Morrigan.

“Can you make it work so we can all see?” Yusef asked.

Morrigan nodded. “I think so.”

She requested some saline and wetted the lens before sticking it into her eye. Slipping the emerald on her finger so it could react with her nervous system, she turned the stone. A light shone from her eyes, darkening as she blinked. They watched in amazement as they saw a picture of the Breeding Festival floating on the air.

Coming around to stand across from Morrigan, they eyed the round holographic projection.

“Can you see it?” Morrigan asked.

“Yes,” Ualan said.

“All right, just let me leaf through these.” Morrigan closed her eye and the picture disappeared. Pia saw the woman turn red and wondered about it.

“Morrigan,” Ualan began.

Morrigan blinked in surprise and a flash of Ualan’s naked ass came up bigger than life before them.

“Oh,” Morrigan panicked. Zoran’s hand slipped from her body as he and Yusef laughed heartily. Morrigan squeezed her eyes tight to block the image from view.

Wryly, Ualan stated, “I had no idea I looked that good from behind.”

He was rewarded with punches from his teasing brothers.

“Here,” Morrigan said, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. A screen of the festival came up. “I can’t play sound, but you should see the picture moving like a silent movie.”

They watched in silence. Seeing who she meant, Pia commanded, “There, stop, that’s him.”

Morrigan froze the picture.

“Yeah.” Olena leaned forward to get a closer look at the corner of the frame. “I remember him. Now that you mention it, he was rather strange.”

“He has the coloring of a Var,” Yusef said.

“But not the scent of one,” Zoran said. “Do you think he has found a way to mask his smell?”

“He wears the tunic of the kitchen staff,” Yusef said. “We will find him and question him. If he is Draig, it will be easy for him to prove it. If he is Var, he will come up with an excuse not to shift.”

Ualan nodded. Yusef and Zoran left with their women by their sides.

Once the couples were alone in the hall, Pia glanced at Zoran. Her body shook with a terrible worry at Morrigan’s confession about being a reporter. She knew her scars were gone, but she couldn’t help thinking she would rather not be publicly known. Quietly, she asked Olena, “Did you know Rigan was writing a story about us?”

Olena shook her head. “She said she was, not is.”

Zoran and Yusef exchanged looks. Pia knew they didn’t much care for their private lives to be made known to the entire galaxy. The Qurilixian, by tradition, were a secretive race that kept to themselves.

“Ualan will speak to her and take care of it,” Yusef said.

Pia really hoped the man was right.

Pia’s blond servant was apprehended almost immediately upon Prince Zoran and Prince Yusef entering the palace kitchens. Zoran picked up the Var smell beneath an all too potent scent of Draig. They found him hiding behind one of the oversized brick ovens, ducking from his work.

The soldier must have known that he was found out, because he tried to run. It was no use. Yusef was standing in the doorway, and with a swing of his good arm, he punched the man square in the jaw, laying him out on the floor.

The Draig servants blinked in surprise at the sudden attack. However, as they witnessed the lazy man sprawled on the floor, they cheered without knowing his treachery. As a fellow worker, the indolent Var spy wasn’t well liked in the kitchen.

The royal family was relieved as news spread of the spy’s capture. Olek escorted the Var to the lower prisons where he would be questioned by Agro. Zoran had no doubt that the giant warrior would discover much from the man.

Chapter 39

“I’m very impressed by your knowledge,” Zoran admitted to his wife.

Pia flushed, turning to look at him. He told her all that had happened—the capture of the spy, and his impending interrogation in the lower prisons. When he finished, Pia nodded her head, her eyes drifting over his body.

“I brought you a present,” Zoran said. A smile fanned over his features.

Pia furrowed her brow, and asked, “Another set of knives?”

“No,” Zoran said carefully moving across to the couch where she sat. Reaching behind his back, he pulled the blindfold out from behind him. “This.”

Pia chuckled. Biting her lips, she backed away. “I don’t think we can.”

Zoran’s look disagreed.

“Zoran.”

This time he stopped as if sensing something in her tone. Frowning, he asked, “What is it?”

“I’m...tender,” she answered delicately.

“From the fight?” he questioned, growing worried by the way she said it.

“No.”

“From...?” Zoran’s brow rose and she swore she saw a swelling of masculine pride at the idea that it was the size of his manhood that caused her soreness.

“Ah,” Pia flushed, her cheeks flaming. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Pia,” he whispered, unable to help his chuckle. “I’m your husband, you can tell me anything.”

“I’m female tender,” she answered.

“You wish to love a female?” he frowned, not believing the words, but not understanding her.

“No,” she said, nearing mortification. She’d really never discussed this with anyone, aside from the nurse on the medical base. She couldn’t even remember the technical word the old, burly woman had for it. Lifting her hands to motion toward her chest, she didn’t touch herself, as she tried to explain, “I’m sore. You know, women once a month get...sore.”

Zoran’s eyes narrowed and to Pia’s horror, he sniffed at her. The blindfold dropped from his fingers to the floor. Shaking his head, he said, “You are not on your breeding time.”

“I’m not saying I’m pregnant,” Pia shot, a look of utter horror coming to her face. Zoran stiffened at the way the statement came out. Pia was too embarrassed to really notice. “I’m going to...get...all bloodied soon.”

He looked as if he wanted to laugh at her description of it.

“So?” he shrugged reaching forward to kiss her.

“It’s gross.”

“It’s normal,” Zoran said, kissing her protesting lips.

Pia instantly began to melt. Then, catching herself, she pulled away.

“Is this because you do not want my children?” Zoran asked, letting her go. When she couldn’t answer fast enough, he stood. His gaze hardened, seeming almost to crack within its depths. “If it’s what you wish, wife. I’ll leave you alone.”

Pia gasped at his sudden anger. Zoran didn’t give her time to explain. He turned and stormed away, heading out the front door.

Pia sat, staring after him, her mouth hanging open, stunned into silence.

Zoran felt as if he couldn’t breathe. For the Draig, the woman’s breeding time was almost regarded as sacred. The pheromones the women’s body sent off drove husbands mad with lust and the need to procreate. It turned them into true beasts. And from what he’d been told, although women were not made to conceive at such a time, it didn’t stop the effect. When she was in such a state, Draig seed could stay within the woman, waiting inside her until her new cycle, causing a greater chance for a belated pregnancy.

He wanted children, desperately. He wanted to share everything life with Pia had to offer. Oh, and how fierce their sons would be with a mother like her and a father like him. They’d be elite warriors—sons to make any dragon envious.

Though they had yet to be born, he felt a loss at the idea they may never exist at all. How could he force Pia to have his children if that was not her wish? How could she ask him to give up fatherhood?

He left their home, needing to regain his composure as he tried to resign himself to a childless life.

Zoran didn’t come home that night. Pia stayed up until her eyes felt so leaden she couldn’t lift them. He didn’t come home the next day either.

Pia, bored out of her mind and needing an excuse to leave the house, went to search out the other princesses. Olena and Nadja weren’t answering their doors. Knowing Morrigan was more than likely recovering, she left her alone. She walked outside. The practice field had a few men on it running laps, but no Zoran or his brothers. Frowning, she turned to go inside. Queen Mede was coming out the front gate.

“Queen Mede,” Pia said, smiling.

“I was looking for you,” the queen admitted. “One of the men said they thought you went this way.”

“What’s happening?”

“Nadja and Olena were attacked last night,” the queen said.

“The Var?” Pia asked instantly.

“No, Nadja’s father.” A light frown came across the queen’s features.

“Are they...?”

Queen Mede shook her head in denial. “No, they’re fine.”

Pia nodded, relieved.

“You were right about King Attor’s motives. Agro interrogated the prisoner and confirmed it. He seeks to kill Morrigan, Nadja, and you. It seems that he’s taken a liking to Olena, though. That’s why he attacked Yusef,” Queen Mede said. “The man gave Agro directions to King Attor’s hidden camp. The trackers go there even now to confirm it.”

Pia didn’t need to ask the tactics Agro had used to get so much from the spy.

“They’ll go tonight, then, if he’s where they think?” Pia asked.

The queen nodded.

“I would go with them,” Pia admitted.

“I understand the impulse. From what I’ve been told you handled yourself well when the cat-shifters attacked Morrigan in the forest. The men really respect a warrior princess.”

“Then when do we leave?”

“I’m sorry, you can’t go with them. Zoran has forbidden it,” Queen Mede answered. “Come, let’s go back inside. It isn’t safe out here.”

Pia wasn’t worried, but she didn’t feel like fighting with her mother-by-marriage over it.

“You are not familiar with Var warfare,” the queen continued. “The order is not meant as a reflection on your skill or my son’s trust in your ability. With time, I am sure you will learn how a cat-shifter fights.”

“You approve of my learning this?” Pia inquired in surprise.

“Of course. Women like us are more than ready to pick up arms if our family or our people are in danger. I wouldn’t expect someone like Nadja to run into battle, but her skills run to other things. She is a healer. You are a fighter.”

“And Olena? Morrigan?”

“Morrigan is a thinker. She has a unique perspective that will do this kingdom well when she takes her place on my throne.” The queen chuckled. “As to Olena, that one is a fireball. If we send her off into battle, she’ll go, she’ll fight, and she’ll probably burn down half the forest on her way there.”

Walking inside the palace, they passed the guard in silence. When they were far enough away to speak in private, Pia stated bluntly, “I have some daughter questions.”

Queen Mede stopped mid-stride in surprise. Her mouth fell open. Clearing her throat as a deep pleasure came over her face, she reached to touch Pia’s cheek. “And I would have mother answers for you, Pia.” She drew her hand away. “What is it?”

“I know nothing of being a wife.”

“You seem to be doing well enough,” Queen Mede answered. “There’s no ‘way’ to being a wife, you just are. Zoran respects you. That says much about your character.”

“I know nothing of being a woman,” Pia elaborated.

“Oh.” Queen Mede pressed her lips together. “You mean you and my son haven’t...?”

Pia flushed, but she needed answers too badly to let embarrassment stop her. “Yes, we’ve come together. What I mean is I know nothing about this breeding time, as Zoran called it.” Pia shrugged. “I’ve always referred to it as getting bloodied.”

With much effort, Queen Mede managed not to laugh. “You make it sound as if you fight each month and lose.”

“Feels like it.”

“I will admit, being raised on this male dominated planet, and only having sons, I am unsure exactly how to begin such a conversation.” The queen paused thoughtfully. “What is it you would know?”

“Zoran wants sons.”

“As do all men,” the queen answered with a nod.

“How do I get them inside of me?” Pia asked.

This time Queen Mede did grin. She took Pia’s arm and guided her down the red passageway. “Oh, Pia, what do you think you’ve been doing with my son?”

“So when he leaks, that makes sons?” Pia nodded in understanding. “He hinted as much. I wasn’t sure as to the how.”

“Basically, he becomes even more a part of you, growing inside you,” Queen Mede answered.

“And then when he grows in me, he’ll go to another until I am...until it’s removed?” She’d heard that many married men cheated on their wives when they were pregnant.

The queen merely laughed. “No, it would be impossible.”

Pia was confused again. “Can’t we just take orphans? It seems much easier. I like Heinrich well enough.”

“You have done very well by that boy, and taking in orphans is very noble.” The queen nodded. “But Heinrich’s path is set. And it is a very good path. I do not think he would like being the son of a prince.”

“So then what am I to do?”

“Once mated, Draig men do not go to other women—ever. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. You would know right away. Besides, if he wanted to go to other women, you would know that too. He doesn’t desire anyone else, rest assured,” Queen Mede said.

“How do you mean I would know? I can’t read his thoughts,” Pia replied.

“Draig men are given a crystal when they are born. It’s their guiding light. When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in such a way that it can never be taken back. When he took you to his tent, it was his choice. When you stayed, that was yours. You exchanged part of your souls. By crushing the crystal, you assured that the exchange would never be reversed. There will be no other in his bed or his heart. When a Draig man looks at his wife, all he sees and feels is for her. Very beautiful, isn’t it?”

Pia nodded, though she didn’t really understand. Surely, the queen merely spoke in metaphors. She stopped walking to look up at a particularly bold statue of a Draig man in human form.

“Do you understand what that means for him and for you?” the queen asked, her eyes shifting to a subtle gold at her words.

Pia shook her head, staring out carefully, not moving from her spot before the statue.

“It means his crystal is broken. It means he put his every chance at happiness in you. He gave his life to you. There will never be anyone else for him so long as he lives. That’s a long time for our people, and for you. By giving you his life, he shortened his and extended yours so your fates could remain together. If you chose to leave him, he would be alone for the rest of his days.” Queen Mede stopped, letting her words sink in.

Pia trembled. Her heart fluttered dangerously in her chest.

Queen Mede continued, “When you feel as if you can sense him inside you, that is what I speak of. It’s very real. Soon, when you are bonded completely, you will be able to hear his thoughts in your head. You’ll sense his troubles. You’ll hear him call you from across the palace. You’ll know every moment he wants you, when he’s sick, when he’s hiding something from you in an effort to protect you. And it will be the same for him with you.”

“So if he thought I didn’t want his children...” Pia began.

Queen Mede’s face paled. She looked as if she might be sick. “Why would he think that?”

“I...might have...led him,” she tried to explain. “I was frightened by the prospect.”

“Do you want them?” Queen Mede asked.

“Yes, but, I don’t know. I’m scared. What if I do something wrong with it? Or forget to...do whatever it is you do with them,” she said. “Knife training I can handle, but I’m assuming Draig babies are not born talking and fighting. I know nothing of infants.”

“That’s why you have family,” the queen said, smiling in understanding. “Every woman is scared, especially with the first. But, I guarantee, there’s nothing more rewarding than seeing your husband’s face in your child’s. As to the care of the child, I have no doubt you will be a fine mother.”

Pia nodded. With a family nearby, it wouldn’t be so bad. How hard could it be? After a few months the kid could probably fend for itself, right? Until then, she’d do everything she could to protect it. “So you will help me at first? Just until the child can go and get its own food. How long could that take? Three, possibly four months?”

The queen bit her lips. “Perhaps a bit longer.”

“Oh.”

“If Zoran believes you feel this way,” Queen Mede said, “he’ll be hurt beyond measure. To tell a Draig husband that you have no wish to give him a child, is like telling them you have no wish for his love.”

Tears came into Pia’s normally strong gaze. She thought of her old wounds. Somehow, she hadn’t thought about them for a while. They no longer mattered. Voicing her last suspicion, a fear that nagged at the back of her mind since Zoran first mentioned he could give her strong sons the night of the marriage festival, Pia asked, “And if I can’t give him sons? What will he do then?”

“Do you have reason to think such a thing?” Queen Mede asked.

“I was injured once, pretty severely,” Pia admitted. A tear slipped down her face. “The doctors who took care of me said there was a chance that I may not function as a woman in such a way.”

“Let’s find out then, shall we?” the queen answered. “Come on, we’ll ask the medic to take a look.”

“I don’t know.” Pia trembled in fear.

“It is better to know what hardships we face,” the queen said. “And as far as your husband is concerned, he would never hold such a thing against you. All it would mean is that the gods have other plans for you. Perhaps, like you said, taking orphans into your care. Now, come.”

Pia hesitated before nodding. The queen was right. It was time she had an answer.

Chapter 40

Draig trackers confirmed the position of King Attor’s campsite, and news came back to the palace that the men were off to fight with King Attor and his Var warriors. Pia respected Zoran’s wishes and didn’t follow him into battle. If what Queen Mede had said was true, then she had a lot of thinking to do.

Pia hardly slept, waking up from small naps every hour or so. The men were gone all night. Queen Mede stayed with her most of the evening, never once mentioning her fear for her own husband, the king. However, Pia saw the worry in the queen’s gaze when she spoke of battle. The queen admitted that anxiety was a lot every woman must bear in silence—apprehension over the safety of husbands and sons. But they were all fine warriors, and to voice such concerns would dishonor them.

Pia said nothing, having faith that Zoran would come home to her. The next morning, he did.

Remembering what the queen had told her, she smiled at him as he walked into the door and acted as if he’d just came home from a day training the men. She stayed on the couch, where she’d been silently staring at the fire, lost in a world of thought.

Quietly, she said, “I knew you would meet with victory.”

Zoran’s eye lit with pleasure at the compliment. He nodded. “Thank you, Pia.”

“Now, tell me what happened.” A pout formed on her lips. “Since you forbade my going with you. It’s not fair that you have all the fun—which leads me to inform you that I expect to be trained in Var warfare, so I don’t miss out next time.”

“If that is what you wish, yes you may train, but don’t expect me to take it easy on you because you are my wife.”

“I’d be insulted if you did.”

At that he chuckled. “You already have the Draig attitude.”

“So, tell me. What happened with King Attor?”

“It was a small encampment of cat-shifters so we were not greatly outnumbered. King Attor is dead. We tried to arrest him according to our treaty, but he called his men to battle. Now Attor’s son will take the throne. Olek is speaking to the new Var king in hopes of negotiating a peace treaty. Either way, it is protocol that someone from our family pay respects to the other royal family at this time of loss,” Zoran obliged. “For all that King Attor was, he was a father with sons.”

Pia followed him into the exercise room. She clutched the blindfold behind her back, twisting it between her fingers. He placed his sword in its place on the weapon’s rack. Then, stretching his arms over his head, he yawned.

“It will be slow going, but peace can be achieved. I have faith in Olek’s abilities on that front,” Zoran said. “Some of the older nobles will protest on both sides. However, in the end, they would bow to the decision of their leaders.”

“They have wise leaders,” Pia said. “Aggravating, but wise.”

“Only because our women make us so.” Zoran laughed. He moved toward the bathroom. Throwing off his shirt, he soon stood naked before the hot spring. Pia trailed behind him, her lips curling as she saw his very firm backside. He again stretched his arms, causing the muscles to ripple over his back in gentle, undulating waves.

“If our battles with the Var have ended,” Zoran said. “I might be out of a job.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Pia said. She stepped up behind him. He tensed as her fingers walked up the middle of his back, pressing lightly along his spine to his neck. Then, lifting the blindfold, she placed it over his eyes. “I might have a use for you.”

Zoran grinned. “What use is that?”

Pia merely hummed to herself, as she slid out of her clothes. Then, running her hands over his body, she moved to stand in front of him. Zoran shivered at her light touches but didn’t reach for her.

Pia loved looking at her warrior husband. She loved watching him move. She loved feeling his texture. She loved him.

“Well, you did promise to take me hunting and camping,” she began, circling his nipples in absent trails.

“And so I shall,” he said. “The soldiers will receive leave to go home to their families. I will have plenty of time to take my lovely wife wherever she wants to go.”

Pia licked her lips watching his mouth move. “And you do owe me a naked dance.”

“You shall have as many as you desire,” he murmured, using his senses to lean down finding her lips.

Pia let him kiss her, her hands moving along his arms. When he pulled away, she whispered, “Let us go camping very soon. We can dance naked under the stars.”

His mouth curled to the side. He didn’t pull away from her lips or remove the blindfold. “Why so soon? The best hunting will be in a few months.”

She worked her fingers down to his wrists. “If you say so, but I would recommend you changing your mind.”

“And why would that be?” Zoran asked, tempted to taste her lips once again.

“Because in several months you’ll have to carry me up the mountain,” she whispered. She drew his hand forward to her stomach. “The doctor said you grow in me.”

Zoran’s hands lifted to push back the blindfold. A hesitant smile came to his face.

“Are you saying...?”

“I’m saying, stubborn man, that I love you,” Pia answered. Her eyes dipped ever so shyly. He wasn’t supposed to remove the mask until after she’d told him. She didn’t have time for embarrassment as he lifted her off the ground. Her feet dangled off the floor, and she wrapped her arms around his thick neck for support.

His body pressed into hers as he stared deeply into her eyes. A wide grin of pure happiness spread over his features, as he whispered in awe, “I love you, too, wife.”

Pia let him kiss her. A well of emotion sprung up between them, connecting them. There were no more boundaries, no more fears, no more doubts.

Pia pulled back. Still dangling, she said, “You got that I’m pregnant, right?”

Zoran only grinned, looking like he’d conquered the world.

She smiled naughtily back. With a stiff jerk, she pulled the blindfold back over his eyes. “Now, blind dragon, feel your way into the bath.”

Zoran chuckled. He lowered her to the ground, only to press her against his arousal. “I would much rather feel my way into something else.”

Pia’s laughter rang out over them.

“You’ve felt yourself into my heart, Zoran,” Pia whispered. She took his face in her hands, holding him against her. “And I’m afraid there’s no escaping. You are my prisoner.”

Zoran kissed her, hard and sure, maddening their bodies with love and passion. “As you are mine, love, as you are mine.”

There was nothing left to be said as he swept her into his arms, blindly kissing her and never intending to stop.

Epilogue

Almost nine months later...

The halls of the Draig palace were filled with hysterical men. Ualan, Zoran, Yusef, and Olek all paced down the hall’s length, only to turn and find their way back. Whenever a scream sounded, piercing the air, they would freeze. Their wide eyes would turn to the medical ward. And, in the following silence, they would curse their damned tradition of kicking fathers out of the delivery room.

Hearing Pia calling his name, Zoran tried to break down the door, only to be subdued by his brothers. The pacing resumed once more, this time joined by the curses of the four men. Hours and many laps later, the gaunt, frightened warriors were finally allowed to go inside the medical ward.

A nurse came forward, holding out a strong, proud son to Ualan—a beast of a child with his mother’s dark hair and his father’s brown eyes. A doctor brought forth an even larger boy, handing the baby to Yusef. The child had hair of red flames and grey eyes that sparkled with mischief. Olek’s son, a tiny lad, was swaddled in Queen Mede’s arms. The queen gave the boy to his anxious father who couldn’t stop grinning.

Zoran, standing tall above his brothers, eager to hold his son, looked over at Pia on the bed. She smiled dreamily at him, her hand twitching for him to come to her. Zoran thought she’d never looked so beautiful.

The doctor stepped forward and handed him the tiniest bundle yet. Zoran pulled back the blankets to ensure all was well with his son. Suddenly, he blinked in surprise. It was no boy. Pia had given him a very healthy, bald little girl. As his daughter’s eyes opened, they were his own light brown color, staring out from her mother’s perfect face.

“We are truly blessed,” the queen whispered, touching each of her grandsons before moving to stroke her granddaughter’s head. “Another female dragon in the family.”

“You are in for a fistful of trouble,” the king said, beaming with pride as he looked at his granddaughter. “I’ll wager this one will rule over her cousins.” Then louder, he announced, “A very fine start, my children. Fine indeed. But do not think your duty is over. I expect many brothers for each one of these fierce babies.”

The women looked as if they might crawl out of their beds and attack the king. King Llyr was completely oblivious to their stares as he began fussing with each infant in turn.

“I have a sword for you,” the king said to Ualan’s son. “And for you,” he told Olek’s. “And for you as well,” he said to Yusef’s boy. Then to Zoran’s girl, he said, “We should probably let the boys practice first before we arm you. Your grandmother dragon will surely have much to teach you. She can fly, you know, and shoot fire out of her mouth. I’ve seen it.”

The princes laughed, never having seen such a feat from their mother.

“It’s true,” the king swore, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur as he talked to his new grandchildren. “Someday, I will tell you all about how the Draig came to have a dragon queen, and how I managed to win her heart. She did not make it easy on me, and I swear your grandmother nearly burned the clothes right off my body when I tried.”

Going to their wives, the princes held the babies to their chests, grinning and fawning like fools. The princesses just smiled sleepily, marveling at how these strong Draig warriors could be brought low by helpless little infants.

The End

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Perfect Prince

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The series continues…

Dragon Lords Book 5

His Highness The Duke

by Michelle M. Pillow

The would-be heroine...

Aeron wants nothing more than to continue to live out her very long, solitary life in a small metal room listening to communications for the Federation Military. It's not glamorous. It's not even charming. But it's safe. There's no chance of getting hurt.

When she intercepts a communication about the impending genocide of the Qurilixian people, she has no choice but to act. No one at the Federation seems inclined to do anything about the threat and suddenly it's up to her to save a whole planet. Enlisting the help of her degenerate sister, Aeron finds herself signed up as a prospective bride to the very barbarians she's trying to save.

The man who did not need saved...

High Duke of Draig, Lord Bron, is not looking forward to his seventh failed attempt at a marriage ceremony, but when he sees the lovely Aeron he knows instantly his years of waiting have finally paid off. The gods have blessed him with a life mate... or have they? His new bride is insistent she's not there for marriage, but for a mission. It's up to Bron to convince her to stay, or risk spending the rest of his life alone.

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Dragon Lords 9: The Dragon’s Queen

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About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestseller

Michelle M. Pillow, Author of All Things Romance™, is a multi-published, award winning author writing in many romance fiction genres including futuristic, paranormal, historical, contemporary, fantasy and dark paranormal. Ever since she can remember, Michelle has had a strange fascination with anything supernatural and sci-fi. After discovering historical romance novels, it was only natural that the supernatural and love/romance elements should someday meet in her wonderland of a brain. She’s glad they did for their children have been pouring onto the computer screen ever since.

Michelle loves to travel and try new things, whether it’s a paranormal investigation of an old Vaudeville Theatre or climbing Mayan temples in Belize. She’s addicted to movies and used to drive her mother crazy while quoting random scenes with her brother. Though it has yet to happen, her dream is to be in a horror movie as 1. A zombie or 2. The expendable screaming chick who gets it in the beginning credits. But for the most part she can be found writing in her office with a cup of coffee in pajama pants.

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Complimentary Material

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Determined Prince

Captured by a Dragon-Shifter

by Michelle M. Pillow

A Modern Day Dragon Lords Story

Dragon-shifter Prince Kyran has studied the Earth people and is ready to assimilate. Female shifters are all but going extinct on his planet of Qurilixen, and his people are desperate for mates—so much so they’re taking matters into their own hands. What better place to capture a woman than Earth? After all, dragon-shifters had come from there centuries ago. Surely a human female would be honored to be selected by one as fine and fierce as himself?

While on Earth, Kyran stumbles upon the most beautiful woman he’s ever imagined, singing something the natives call rock ’n’ roll. His blood simmers and he knows Eve is the one for him. But taming this feisty female is going to take much more than his training prepared him for.

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The Savage King

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Bestselling Cat-shifter Romance Series

Cat-shifting King Kirill knows he must do his duty by his people. When his father unexpectedly dies, it’s his destiny to take the throne and all of the responsibility that entails. What he hadn’t prepared for is the troublesome prisoner that’s now his to deal with.

Undercover Agent Ulyssa is no man’s captive. Trapped in a primitive forest awaiting pickup, she’s going to make the best out of a bad situation…which doesn’t include falling for the seductions of a king.

About Lords of the Var (Books 1-5)

You met their father, King Attor, in Dragon Lords Books 1-4, now meet the Var Princes!

The cat-shifter princes were raised to not believe in love, especially love for one woman, and they will do everything in their power to live up to their father’s expectations. Oh, how the mighty will fall.

The Savage King Excerpt

Kirill watched the door to his bedroom open. He’d been sitting in the dark, trying to relieve the stress headache that had built behind his eyes for the last week. The pain started at the base of his skull and radiated up to his temples until he could hardly see straight.

A heavy responsibility had been thrust on his shoulders, a responsibility he really hadn’t prepared himself for, the welfare of the Var people. King Attor had not left him in a good position. He’d rallied the people to the brink of war, convinced them that the Draig were their enemy, and even went so far as to attack the Draig royal family.

Kirill wanted to see peace in the land. However, he knew the facts didn’t bode well for it. The Draig had a long list of grievances against King Attor and the Var kingdom.

Before his death, the king had ordered an attack on the four Draig princes, all of which ended horribly for the Var. The worst was when Prince Yusef was stabbed in the back, a most cowardly embarrassment for the Var guard who did it. If he hadn’t been executed in the Draig prisons, he would’ve been ostracized from the Var community. Luckily, Prince Yusef survived or they’d already be at battle.

Attor had also arranged for the kidnapping of Yusef’s new bride. The Draig Princess Olena had been rescued, or that too would’ve led to war. The old king had even tried to poison Princess Morrigan, the future Draig queen, on two separate occasions. She too lived. And those were only a few of the offenses Kirill knew about in the few weeks before King Attor’s death. He could just imagine what he didn’t know.

Kirill sighed, feeling very tired. He’d known since birth that the day would come when he’d be expected to step up and lead the Var as their new king. He just hadn’t expected it to be for another hundred or so years. His father had been a hard man, whom he’d foolishly believed was invincible.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” His lovely houseguest’s whisper drew his complete attention from his heavy thoughts.

Ulyssa bent over like she expected him to answer to the insulting call. He dropped his fingers from his temple into his lap, and a quizzical smile came to his lips. As he watched her, he wasn’t sure if he was angered or amused by her words.

“Are you in here, you little furball?” she said, a little louder.

She wore his clothes. Never had the outfit looked sexier. His jaw tightened in masculine interest, as he unabashedly looked her over. All too well did he remember the softness of her body against his and the gentle, offering pleasure of her sweet lips. She’d made soft whimpering noises when he’d touched her, yielding, purring sounds in the back of her throat. Even with the aid of nef, he was surprised by how easily and confidently she melted into him. The Var were wild, passionate people and were drawn to the same qualities in others. He suspected she’d be an untamed lover.

Too bad she’d belonged to his father first. In his mind, that made her completely untouchable though none would dare question his claim if he were to take her to his bed. Technically, by Var law, she belonged to him until he chose to release her. For an insane moment, he thought about keeping her as a lover. He knew he wouldn’t, but the thought was entertaining.

Kirill’s grin deepened. Ulyssa strode across his home to the bathroom door with an irritated scowl. It was obvious she didn’t see him in the darkened corner, watching her. He detected her engaging smell from across the room, the smell of a woman’s desire. It stirred his blood, making his limbs heavy with arousal. And, for the first time since his father’s death, his headache relieved itself.

“Hum, maybe I’m looking too high. I’m sure there has to be a little cat door here somewhere. Come here, little kitty. Where are you hiding?”

His slight smile fell at her words. It was easy to detect her mocking tone.

“Where’s your little kitty door, huh?” Ulyssa whispered to herself, her blue gaze searching around in the dark.

Kirill grimaced in further displeasure. He watched her open the door to his weapons cabinet. Her eyes rounded, and he thought she might take one. She didn’t. Instead, she nodded in appreciation before closing the door and continuing her search for an exit.

She stopped at a narrow window by his kitchen doorway. Her neck craned to the side, as she tried to see out over the distance. Kirill knew she looked at the forest. From under her breath, he heard her vehement whisper, “Where exactly did you little fur balls bring me? Ugh, I need to get out of this flea trap, even if I have to fight every one of you cowardly felines to do it. I’ve fought species twice as big and three times as frightening. A couple of little kitty cats don’t scare me.”

If this insolent woman wanted to play tough, oh, he’d play. Curling gracefully forward, Kirill shifted before his hands even touched the ground. He let one thick paw land silently on the floor, followed by a second. Short black fur rippled over his tanned flesh, blending him into the shadows. His clothes fell from his body, and he lowered his head as he crept forward. A low sound of warning started in the back of his throat. He was livid.

To find out more about Michelle’s books visit www.MichellePillow.com

Love Potions

Warlocks MacGregor Series

by Michelle M. Pillow

Contemporary Paranormal Scottish Warlocks

A little magickal mischief never hurt anyone…

Erik MacGregor, from a clan of ancient Scottish warlocks, isn’t looking for love. After centuries, it’s not even a consideration…until he moves in next door to Lydia Barratt. It’s clear that the shy beauty wants nothing to do with him, but he’s drawn to her nonetheless and determined to win her over.

Lydia Barratt just wants to be left alone to grow flowers and make lotions in her old Victorian house. The last thing she needs is a demanding Scottish man meddling in her private life. Just because he’s gorgeous and totally rocks a kilt doesn’t mean she’s going to fall for his seductive manner.

But Erik won’t give up and just as Lydia let’s her guard down, his sister decides to get involved. Her little love potion prank goes terribly wrong, making Lydia the target of his sudden embarrassingly obsessive behavior. They’ll have to find a way to pull Erik out of the spell fast when it becomes clear that Lydia has more than a lovesick warlock to worry about. Evil lurks within the shadows and it plans to use Lydia, alive or dead, to take out Erik and his clan for good.

Love Potions Excerpt

“Ly-di-ah! I sit beneath your window, laaaass, singing ’cause I loooove your a—”“

“For the love of St. Francis of Assisi, someone call a vet. There is an injured animal screaming in pain outside,” Charlotte interrupted the flow of music in ill-humor.

Lydia lifted her forehead from the kitchen table. Her windows and doors were all locked, and yet Erik’s endlessly verbose singing penetrated the barrier of glass and wood with ease.

Charlotte held her head and blinked heavily. Her red-rimmed eyes were filled with the all too poignant look of a hangover. She took a seat at the table and laid her head down. Her moan sounded something like, “I’m never moving again.”

“You need fluids,” Lydia prescribed, getting up to pour unsweetened herbal tea from the pitcher in the fridge. She’d mixed it especially for her friend. It was Gramma Annabelle’s hangover recipe of willow bark, peppermint, carrot, and ginger. The old lady always had a fresh supply of it in the house while she was alive. Apparently, being a natural witch also meant in partaking in natural liquors. Annabelle had kept a steady supply of moonshine stashed in the basement. If the concert didn’t stop soon she might try to find an old bottle.

“Ly-di-ah!”

“Omigod. Kill me,” Charlotte moaned. “No. Kill him. Then kill me.”

“Ly-di-ah!”

Erik had been singing for over an hour. At first, he’d tried to come inside. She’d not invited him and the barrier spell sent him sprawling back into the yard. He didn’t seem to mind as he found a seat on some landscaping timbers and began his serenade. The last time she’d asked him to be quiet, he’d gotten louder and overly enthusiastic. In fact, she’d been too scared to pull back the curtains for a clearer look, but she was pretty sure he’d been dancing on her lawn, shaking his kilt.

“Omigod,” Charlotte muttered, pushing up and angrily going to a window. Then grimacing, she said, “Is he wearing a tux jacket with his kilt?”

“Don’t let him see you,” Lydia cried out in a panic. It was too late. The song began with renewed force.

“He’s…” Charlotte frowned. “I think it’s dancing.”

Since the damage was done, Lydia joined Charlotte at the window. Erik grinned. He lifted his arms to the side and kicked his legs, bouncing around the yard like a kid on too much sugar. “Maybe it’s a traditional Scottish dance?”

Both women tilted their heads in unison as his kilt kicked up to show his perfectly formed ass.

“He’s not wearing…” Charlotte began.

“I know. He doesn’t,” Lydia answered. Damn, the man had a fine body. Too bad Malina’s trick had turned him insane.

To find out more about Michelle’s books visit www.MichellePillow.com

The Dragon’s Queen

by Michelle M. Pillow

What to see what happened with the King and Queen first met?

Dragon Lords Series

Bestselling Shape-shifter Romance

Mede of the Draig knows three things for a fact: As the only female dragon-shifter of her people, she is special. She can kick the backside of any man. And she absolutely doesn’t want to marry.

Mede has spent a lifetime trying to prove herself as strong as any male warrior. Unfortunately, being the special, rare creature she is, she’s been claimed as the future bride to nearly three dozen Draig—each one confident that when they come for her hand in marriage fate will choose them. When the men aren’t bragging about how they’re going to marry her, they’re acting like she’s a delicate rare flower in need of their protection.

She is far from a shrinking solarflower.

Prince Llyr of the Draig knows four things for a fact: He is the future king of the dragon-shifters. He must act honorably in all ways. He absolutely, positively is meant to marry Lady Mede. And she dead set against marriage.

Llyr’s fate rests in the hands of a woman determined not to have any man. With a new threat emerging amongst their cat-shifting neighbors, a threat whose eyes are focused firmly on Mede, time may be running out. It is up to him to convince her to be his dragon queen.

The Dragon’s Queen Excerpt

There were three things Medellyn knew for a fact. She was special. She could kick the ass of any boy. And she did not want to marry and have babies.

She was special.

Medellyn was one of the only dragon-shifting females in all the universe, and definitely in all of the Draig. Only once in a thousand births was a female dragon-shifter born. She was rare, or so everyone kept telling her. Her childhood was a strange contradiction. Her very proper mother tried to treat her as if she were some sacred crystal that might crack. Her warrior father tried to make her train like a boy while dressing like a girl.

She could kick the ass of any boy.

Medellyn hated when boys tried to act as if she were weak and to be protected. Her dragon was just as fierce as any of theirs, probably more so. To prove her point, she’d gladly pummel any who had challenged her to the ground…and some who hadn’t.

She absolutely, positively did not want to marry and have babies.

Being the special, rare creature she was, in the twenty not-so-sweet girlhood years of her life she’d been claimed as the future bride to nearly three dozen boys—each one confident that when they came of the age to marry she would make their crystals glow and they hers.

Glowing crystals wasn’t just a metaphor. On the day she was born, her father journeyed to Crystal Lake like all the new fathers did. He dove beneath the waves, swam down to the deepest part and pulled her stone from the lakebed. Like all Draig children, she wore the stone around her neck, and would continue to wear it until the day it glowed telling her which of the dragon-shifting men she was destined by the gods to marry. Okay, technically she might be destined to marry an offworlder like most Draig men, but no one on her planet seemed to think so.

Gods bones, she hoped she wasn’t destined to end up with any of the idiots on her planet. They had yet to impress her.

When it was her turn to go to the Breeding Festival, the crystal would glow signifying her curse for all to see. Well, her “blessing” as her mother called it. Lady Grace did not appreciate her daughter calling marriage a curse. Grace did not appreciate a lot of things that Medellyn liked, such as swords and bows, ceffyl riding, camping alone in the forest, hunting, sparring, smashing arrogant looks off of dragon men’s faces.

It was a fight with her mother that sent her running through the mountain forest. Medellyn hated the woman, hated what her mother wanted her daughter to be. Grace was only a human, brought to their planet as a bartered bride. She married Medellyn’s father without question and spent most of her days completely in docile agreement with whatever her husband said. Medellyn couldn’t imagine taking anyone else’s opinions over her own.

Her father, Axell, was a highly praised warrior in the Draig army and carried the title of Top Breeder of the ceffyls. The man’s whole life focused on four things: his wife, his only child, and mares and steeds. Her father was a very important man, but his work kept him away from home several nights a week as he slept outdoors with the herd. With a three-year gestation period and only about fifty percent live-birth rate, the animals were not a resource that could be easily renewed. His ceffyls supplied the soldiers with mounts and farmers used them for beasts of burden to help with the fields.

Like Axell, Medellyn was a proud dragon. Had she been born male, she would have been a warrior, too. Instead, she was special. How could her human mother begin to understand the wildness than ran in her dragon blood? If she had, Grace would never have asked Medellyn to tame her spirit.

Breathing hard, she came to an abrupt halt and screamed into the trees. Her body shook with rage and she tore at the pretty gown she wore. She hated her body, hated being special, hated being expected to act like a lady when she felt like a dragon. Her taloned finger snagged on the crystal around her neck and she cut the leather strap of the necklace. The crystal flew several feet away.

“I am not some man’s chattel,” she yelled, knowing she’d run far enough away that her mother could not hear her retorts. Since she was shifted her voice was hoarse and powerful, and she reveled in the fierceness of it. “I am not some breeding ceffyl to have children. It is not my place to give you fifty grandkids. I can’t help you only had one child. If you would have made me a boy, I wouldn’t be a disappointment to you!”

Tears stung her eyes as Medellyn walked aimlessly, searching the forest floor for the fallen necklace. Finding it, she grabbed the inert crystal into her fist. It was a reminder of all she was expected to be. She took a deep breath, looking at her fist and then to the stones littering the forest floor. A small smile formed on her mouth. Medellyn dropped the crystal on the hard ground and glared at it. Rage boiled inside her, the kind of rage surely only a dragon-shifter could feel.

“This is what I think of your fate,” she growled as she fell to her knees.

Medellyn grabbed a heavy rock and smashed it down onto her necklace. The crystal cracked. The noise gave her some satisfaction so she hit it again. Grunting with each strike of the stone, she didn’t stop until her future had been ground to dust.

“That is what I think of your destiny.”

To find out more about Michelle’s books visit www.MichellePillow.com

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