
Lords of the Var:
By
Michelle M. Pillow
© copyright July 2005, Michelle M. Pillow
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright July 2005
ISBN 1-58608-545-x
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Dedication:
To Andrea and the other editors and proofers at NCP. Thanks for all you do.
Author recommends reading books in order of release. For details please visit www.michellepillow.com
"It's a good thing you lack all emotion, Falke. It makes you a great Commander. I know I'll never have to worry about your heart being lost to a woman, not like I do your half-human brothers." -- King Attor of the Var
Samantha Dorsey flicked her short fingernails in a steady, annoying rhythm, purposefully torturing the two irritated crewman sitting before her. She received mischievous pleasure in watching their backs stiffen as they tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Her cool, violet eyes were outlined with black liner. She turned to study them, partly laughing, partly mocking, and mostly playful.
"Hum, Captain Sam thinks she's got us." Evan Cormier, her go-to man on the ship, lifted his chocolate-brown eyes in amusement as he looked at her fingers. He had short black hair, with glints of silver along his temples. His sexy appeal was completely lost on her most days, but now he was beginning to look a little cute. Too bad she didn't sleep with her crew. According to the many women Evan had taken to his bed, he was able to 'read' what a woman wanted and give it to her. Sam knew it was because he was part telepath--a fact he didn't share with too many. People either got weird about it, or wanted to use him to up their odds in poker games. Sam paused in her nail-clicking as she watched him, his brow rose in silent challenge, and she started the ticking all over again. His low voice rumbled, as he stated, "Chase a star, Captain."
Sam grinned, reaching down into the messy pile of playing cards and drew. A lock of blonde and purple hair fell over her eye and she swept it back. Lifting the ace of spades into her hand, she fiddled with her cards. Evan cleared his throat and gave a meaningful glance at the half empty bottle of Torganian rum. Sighing, she reached for the bottle and chugged a big swallow. It really was nasty stuff. She sputtered and gagged, as she gasped for breath. Making an awful face, she slammed her fist on the table.
"Ugh, it still tastes like Lophibian piss!" Sam spat, grabbing a shot of Earth whiskey to chase the foul liquor down. This time she didn't sputter. "Where did Viktor get this crap?"
Evan and the other player of their torturous card game, Lucien, laughed, nearly falling over drunk in their chairs. Lucien was half human, half Dere, with the strangest red-brown eyes they'd ever seen--unless you counted the red-green eyes of his older brother.
"Do you have a ... eight?" Lucien asked Sam. Sam looked down at her cards. Seeing an eight, she handed it over. Lucien grinned triumphantly, getting out of drinking the horrible alcohol. They were well aware they played a warped version of a child's game, but as drunk as they were, they'd been hard pressed to focus on much else.
Everyone on the ship was at least half human. There were six of them total. Sam was the Captain--mainly because she'd been the lucky one to win the ship in a card game. Evan was the first mate, second in command. Lucien was in charge of communications. Passed out on the couch was Lucien's brother, Viktor. He was one hell of a mechanic and could rig anything. Passed out on the floor was Rick Hayes, their pilot. And, if Sam guessed right, passed out in his room was Dev. Dev was half Belvon, a demonic looking race with red skin. Aside from the intense coloring, he looked human, only larger. He was the ship's muscle.
Sam wasn't worried about her drunken crew. The ship was on autopilot and they weren't currently in hostile territory. The outer edge of the Y quadrant was nearly abandoned from what they could see. Earlier, they'd spotted a small reddish-brown planet surrounded by a blue-green earthlike sky. Initial scans said it was oxygen based and inhabited.
Sam blinked, looking down at her hand. She suddenly realized she had three aces left. Throwing them down, she declared, "Kiss my comet! Drink up boys!"
Lucien and Evan grimaced but took the Torganian Rum and dutifully took their losing drinks. They sputtered in horror as she had and they quickly followed the shot with whiskey. Sam laughed, slamming her fist down on the table several times while trying not to fall onto the floor.
"Ah," Evan spat, stretching his tongue out of his mouth as if that would make the taste go away.
"Oooh, yuck," Lucien grumbled, shaking his head and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Sometimes I wonder about us."
Sam laughed harder. "Hey, what's next on the list? What else do we need to get?"
Lucien grinned, automatically knowing what she was thinking. Swiping the cards aside, he ran his hand over the table. A transparent floating computer screen materialized before him and a control panel opened beneath the flat surface. Pushing a few buttons, he grinned, and said, "A wild beast from a primitive planet."
"What was that planet we just passed? Quri ... Killillrillen ... the red one with oxygen?" Evan grinned, nodding his head. "It didn't have any known landing bases when we scanned it. You can't get much more primitive than that."
"Let's do it!" Sam shot to her feet, swaying terribly on her wobbly legs. "Evan, grab the tazers or phasers or tranq ... hic ... quilizer darts! We're going to bag us a wild ... something or other! Lucien, get a transporter ready. I'll get the food and turn this hunk of metal around. I'm starving. Meet me at the space pod!"
"Aye, aye, Captain," Lucien and Evan said in unison, giving very un-militant salutes, first to their slender Captain, then to each other, and then to the passed out men on the floor.
"They're going to be so pissed when they find out we went without them," Evan snickered, grinning like a fool. He tried to whisper, but the sound just came out loud. On the floor, Rick mumbled and turned in his sleep. They all froze, their liquor-hazed eyes turning down to the pilot. Sam knew he wouldn't be happy if she took over the controls again. He always complained that she reset everything--which she did on purpose. When Rick started to snore, they all relaxed.
Sam and Lucien chuckled like wayward children, stumbling toward the door. Evan was right behind them. She knew they were drunk, and in the back of her alcohol-soaked brain, she was sure going out half-cocked to an uncharted planet was a bad idea. She grinned. It wouldn't be the first time they'd done something unwise, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.
Prince Falke of the Var reached his paws forward, stretching out his sore back as he soared over the earth, sprinting through the forest of his homeland. Being half Var, he was a cat shifter by birth. The blue-green haze of the planet's atmosphere shone through the leaves of the forest. With three suns--two yellow, one blue--the planet was always cast in daylight, with the exception of one night a year when everything fell into perfect alignment and darkness fell over the land. They had one moon, but it was small and unnoticeable most days. Right now it was late in the evening, so there was a softer haze to the light.
He'd grown up on the planet of Qurilixen and knew the forest well. The green leaves of the planet's foliage were overlarge due to the excessive heat and moisture they received. The reddish trees were wider than some of the largest Var warriors. Yellow ferns spread out beneath his swift feet, growing wild in the red earth of the planet's surface. All was serene around him, silent but for the wind rushing past his ears and the thumping of his paws on the ground.
The whole planet was inhabited by two races of male shifters, aside from the women who came to the planet to marry them. The Draig royal family ruled the northern half and his family ruled the southern. For many decades, the Var people had been at war with the Draig.
The Draig were dragon shifters and it had been Falke's father, King Attor, who perpetrated most of the wars between them. Falke wasn't sure if he trusted the Draig. It was hard for him to forget some of the things he'd seen in battle in his half century of leading the Var armies against them. He'd lost many good soldiers. But, his brother Kirill, the new Var king, now strove for peace. Kirill was of sound judgment and Falke would do his best to honor the peace treaty they now had in place.
The only thing was, now that there was no war, he didn't know what to do with his time. Falke felt useless without purpose. He still had to train the men and command the armies, but many of them had been given leave to go home. Besides, he had efficient seconds in command who took many of the duties from him.
King Attor had raised his sons to be warriors, strong and proud. Now that the war was over, Falke wasn't prepared. Not that he liked warmongering, or death and destruction. A large part of him was relieved to be done with war. At the same time, he wasn't holding his breath that it would last. It was too soon to tell.
It was much easier for him to exercise in his shifted state, his strong body molded into the form of a large, white tiger. Ever since Lord Myrddin, an evil man after his brother's throne, had captured and tortured him, he would wake in the middle of the night sore and aching, needing to stretch. If not for his brothers, King Kirill and Prince Quinn's rescue, he'd not be alive today.
The capture had been a great blow to his ego, especially since he was the Commander of the Guard, leader of the Var military. If he hadn't been protecting the human scientists, come to help them rid his planet of biological weaponry, he would've easily taken Myrddin's men.
It's over now, Falke thought, running faster as he did his best to forget about it. Myrddin was dead and the biological threat was gone. Even the shadowed marshes were looking better than they had in about a century, thanks to the human scientists' work. Everything seemed to be looking up for his people. For that he was glad.
King Kirill had lifemated to a former agent of the Human Intelligence Agency, Ulyssa Payne. Soon after, his youngest brother and Var Ambassador, Quinn, lifemated to one of the human scientists who'd helped restore the marshes, Tori Elliot. Both women were pregnant. The Var royal family's future looked bright. With Kirill and Quinn preoccupied with family, as they rightly should be, Falke felt even more alone. There was always Prince Reid, another brother, but he commanded the outlands and hadn't been by the palace as of late.
Reid sulked because he couldn't understand how their brothers choose to mate with a woman. Reid liked the women well enough, but their father would never have approved. Long ago, several hundred years before the Princes' birth, before Attor became King, things had been different for the Var people. It was a wild time, a time when the Var let emotions rule their heads and their hearts. They acted rashly and on pure instinct. For reasons completely unknown to his sons, Attor changed the ways of the Var. He was a good King, one who worked hard for his people--despite the end of his life that was marred by a touch of what could only have been madness.
Attor encouraged emotional detachment so that if one half-mate died, there could be others to take her place. That was why Kirill and Quinn's lifemates were so upsetting to Reid. If something happened to the women, there could never be another for his brothers, and to a race of men who lived for hundreds of years that was a long time to be alone. They'd be able to take women to their bed to fulfill physical need, but the loneliness would slowly eat at them.
King Attor's father had suffered the folly of mating with one woman. She had died when Attor was born and the old King never recovered enough to breed more women for sons. Although he took women to his bed, he left Attor without any brothers to help lead the Var nation. So, when Attor took over the throne, he became reliant on a few noble houses--like Lord Myrddin's, the traitor who'd tried to kill Falke.
It was Attor who encouraged men to have control, to drink nef--a drink that somehow calmed them sexually and gave them restraint. Falke had no need of the drink. His mother, Taura, was half Roane and that heritage gave him all the restraint he needed. Each Prince had different mothers, except for Reid and Jarek, the twins. Jarek was out exploring space and hadn't been home in a long while.
King Attor urged the Var men to prove their worth and dependability with emotionless detachment. He taught by example, that to prove great prowess in the bedroom showed prowess in the field of battle, until strength in one meant strength in the other. Many of the elders followed Attor's example and took many half-mates, though none so many as the King. Lifemates were a privilege of the lower classes--tradesmen, farmers, even hunters and lower ranked soldiers, all men who could ill afford to keep many mates on a planet so barren of women in the first place. However, because Falke was the Commander, he was expected to adhere to this old way of thinking more than the others. If he was to fall in love--which he doubted would ever happen--it would be disastrous to his family's reputation, especially amongst the elders. It would make the House of Var look weak.
Running faster, Falke pushed the limits of his healing wounds. By fighting the pain, pushing his body, he would better be able to generate the energy he needed to heal himself. Listening to the wind, he tried to clear his mind. He'd been too contemplative of late. He didn't like feeling lost and the dreams that haunted him only made the feelings worse. He was tired and didn't want to think about any of it anymore. The loneliness would always be there. No matter what he did or thought, he knew was destined to be alone.
Sam pushed the gigantic leaf out of her way, as she stumbled over a fallen log. Blinking several times, she squinted in the hazy light. Wasn't it supposed to be night time on this side of the planet? She was pretty sure they'd calculated it right--well, the computer would've calculated it right. They were too drunk to be calculating anything themselves. Thank the stars for autopilot! She looked down at her locator, scanning for life forms of any kind.
Just then, Lucien came running by. His pale, naked body streaked through the huge forest, as his male pride bounced for all to see. Sam shook with laughter. She was sure she'd never seen anything as funny as his milky white backside running through the trees. Then Evan's naked form whizzed past her, his butt much more muscular.
"Come on, Captain!" he yelled, as he disappeared behind a tree.
"I'm not stripping for you two!" Sam called behind him, jogging forward to see where they went. She shook her head, still laughing. "Nice try, space cadet!"
"Hey, Sam, look," Evan said, his voice quieting. "Lucien's found something."
"What is it?" she whispered, though her loud quiet could hardly be considered a whisper. But, then again, neither could Evan's.
"Sh," Lucien hissed, waving his hands back for silence. "I'm tracking our wild, ferocious beast."
Sam turned her eyes to where Lucien was pointing. She bit her lips to keep from laughing. It was a beautiful bird with bright blue feathers. Its long tail swooped down like a legendary phoenix. With its little beak, it was anything by ferocious.
"Evan," Sam whispered, laughing. When he didn't immediately turn, she said louder, "Evan!"
"What?" he asked, glancing at her with a cocky grin.
"Where are your clothes?" Sam gave his naked body a glance.
For a moment, Evan looked confused, as if he'd forgotten he was naked. His glassy eyes blinked slowly and then he shrugged. He checked himself out and then shot her another, cockier grin. His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. Laughing, he shrugged again, and snickered, "I don't remember."
"Would you two shut it?" Lucien said really loud, placing his hands on his hips to glare at them. The bird was startled by his harsh voice and flew away. His lips twitched and he fought to sound stern, saying, "See what you made me do? The killer blue bird is gone! There goes our wild beast!"
Evan and Sam laughed harder still and Lucien soon joined them. Sam was pretty sure they'd finally lost it--whatever it was and that was if they even had it to begin with. They nearly fell all over themselves, as they gasped for breath.
"What in the blazing star trails are we doing here?" Evan asked, shaking his head in wonder at their stupidity.
"I don't know," Sam answered, sniffing back tears of laughter. "Whose bright idea was this anyway?"
Both men looked at her with pointed expression.
"Oh," she chuckled. "Oops. Anyone know the way back to the space pod?"
"Yeah, I got the locator," Lucien said, looking down at his naked waist. He felt around, as if he could find it. His drunken laughter started up again. "On my belt."
"Got a locator for your pants?" Sam asked.
Laughter was her only answer. Sam grabbed her sides. They were really starting to ache. Then, her stomach growled. She'd forgotten she was hungry and didn't bring any food along on the little trip.
"Crap, so help me if we're stuck here," Evan began, shaking his fist at Lucien. It was too funny. None of them were sober enough to care that they might be stranded on an uncharted alien planet. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time that had happened. Somehow, they always managed to get out of their little scrapes.
"Did someone leave a note for the crew telling them where we are at?" Sam asked.
Evan and Lucien both shook their head, mumbling in turn, "No."
"Okay, then, let's go track some wild pants! They couldn't have walked far," Sam said, looking around and heading in the direction from where she was pretty sure they'd just come. Lucien, who had an inborn sense of direction, stopped her by clearing his throat. When she looked at him, he pointed the opposite way. "Okay, then. Let's go! Move it out troops!"
Sam navigated her way in the direction Lucien indicated, mainly using their tracks in the red dirt as a guide through the forest. She kept her head down, trying to concentrate on where she stepped.
"We should check around," Lucien said.
Sam and Evan stopped to look at him.
"For proof that we were here," he clarified. "We can't go back empty handed."
"Uh, guys," Evan said.
"Grab a leaf." Sam motioned to the tree.
"Guys," Evan repeated.
"Will that be enough?" Lucien asked.
"Uh, gu-uys!" Evan whispered, his voice coming out an insistent hiss.
"What?" they both asked at once.
"How 'bout we take that?" Evan whispered, frozen in what looked like stunned fear. He wasn't moving, except for his eyes.
Sam felt her heart stop just by looking at her second in command's pale face. Slowly, she turned on her heels, following Evan's gaze. Lucien gasped lightly, the only sound in the forest. Everything seemed to have gotten deadly quiet. Then, a low growl started, rumbling just as her eyes turned to the large white creature looming before them. Whatever it was, it looked angry. Sam gulped. And hungry.
"What is it?" Lucien whispered.
"I ... I don't know," Sam answered. She tried to stop her hands from shaking. The thing had sharp teeth poking from his powerful mouth. The rumbling didn't stop.
"I think it's a tiger species of some sort," Evan said. "I saw some of Rick's pictures once. They're big, wild cats. But, um, we're not on Earth."
Sam had never seen anything like it. Well, come to think of it, the creature did kind of look like a cat she'd seen once, but was nearly fifty times as big as that little thing. Her body shook and she moved toward it, mesmerized by the fierce blue of its eyes. Her fingers twitched, numbingly reaching out as if she could pet it.
"Sam, what are you doing? Get the tranq!" Evan whispered, shaking her back to reality.
"I don't have them," Sam said, having a hard time concentrating. She was shaken by the apparent fierceness of the beast, but she was also strangely drawn to it. Its eyes looked into hers and, despite its mean growl, she wanted to trust that it wouldn't hurt her.
"They're on your waist," Evan whispered.
Sam felt like slapping her head. Of course they were. She reached down and slowly took the tranquilizer dart off her belt. The beast watched her every move. Suddenly, Lucien screamed and made a threatening motion. The tiger's attention was drawn to him at the sound, breaking out of the trance it had fixated on the Captain. Sam sprung into action, a little slow in her drunken state, but the reflex was so ingrained she didn't need to think. Instantly, she shot off three darts. They hit the animal in the neck and side.
The beast roared angrily and charged, leaping onto Sam's shoulders so fast she could barely react. Her eyes stared up, terrified, into the large mouthful of sharpened teeth. The tiger had every chance to bite her, but didn't. It merely pressed its weight into hers, angling its face so it could stare into her eyes.
The tiger's lids drooped and she was aware of Lucien and Evan screaming for her, as they kicked the beast in the ribs. Her lungs squeezed, she managed a harsh, "Don't. It's out."
Instantly, they stopped kicking.
"Are you all right?" Evan stood over her, looking down.
"Captain, are you hurt?" Lucien asked at the same time.
"Heavy," she gasped. They pushed the weight off of her and she could again breathe. Shaking, they pulled her to her feet. For a long time they stared at the fallen creature in silence.
"Blessed Stars, it's huge," Lucien swore under his breath.
"Sam, your shirt. Are you hurt?" Evan pointed at the rip by her shoulder.
Sam reached for it and her fingers came back with blood. She didn't feel anything though. "No, it's fine. The wound is a little one. It will be gone by morning. I'm more worried about my back. This thing weighs more than a Groto boulder."
Evan nodded in understanding.
"Why didn't it attack?" Sam whispered, leaning over to study the animal. Her mind felt as if she was underwater. Her shaking fingers touched his soft white and black fur. "It had me. It could've torn out my throat before it went down."
"Do we leave it?" Lucien asked, reaching to stroke the animal's back to feel it for himself.
"Hell, no!" Evan exclaimed, growing excited. "Look at this thing! We need a wild beast. You aren't going to get wilder than that! With this thing, we'll win the contest for sure!"
Sam felt a momentary wave of regret, but she attributed it to liquor. Her crew would never forgive her if she let this tiger go. Even on Earth, such creatures were rare. Her head swam, reminding her just how much they'd had to drink. Her body started to wind down and she knew if she didn't find her bed soon, she'd be passing out where she stood.
"I've got the darts," Sam said. "I'll stay with the capture. You two, go get those clothes and a lift. We'll never get this out of here on our own."
"Where are we going to put it?" Evan asked. Sam frowned. They didn't really have a prison hold. The old one had been transformed into a room for Dev. He liked sleeping away from the others and wouldn't take kindly to sharing his room with a wild animal.
"I've got that cage in my room. We'll stick it in there. He won't be able to get out." Sam sighed. Her head was beginning to throb. "Get going."
Evan and Lucien took off running. She watched their steps weave back and forth, unable to tell if it was her vision or if they were stumbling. Blinking, she looked down at her hand. Her vision blurred as it had been doing all night and she closed her eyes to steady it. The soft fur called to her and she laid her head on the animal's side. Its strong even breath and the sound of the steady heartbeat comforted her. Her fingers absently twined into the back of his head. Absently, she petted the creature, rubbing her face in its softness.
"Sam, we got it."
Sam lifted her head, having no idea how much time had passed. She blinked, seeing Evan. Slowly, she nodded and pushed to her feet.
Falke blinked. His vision was blurred by the effects of the dart. He knew what it was, because his father had done it to him before in training. He felt sleepy, dizzy, and a little nauseous on top of that. He recalled running in the forest, stopping as he heard a noise. Curious, he'd followed the sounds of laughter. Two naked men, one pale and one tan, were with a woman.
Seeing naked men running about wasn't an unusual sight for the Commander. Being shifters, they lost their clothes whenever they changed form. There'd been many nights they'd chased the enemy, only to be left naked in the middle of the great forest. What was unusual was to see naked men who were not shifters. Falke had picked up their scent instantly and knew they were alien to his homeland. Their language confirmed that they were humans, or at least raised human.
At first, he could only see the woman's backside. She wore tight black pants that hugged firmly to her slender waist and hips. Her butt was lifted, toned from much exercise, even though she was small. She had blonde hair, cut to her shoulders as if hacked at with a knife to leave choppy waves. Then, at the men's insistent whispering, the woman turned around to face him. Her scent was different--soft, sweet, almost sugary. She swayed on her feet and he wondered if it was fear that caused it.
When Falke saw her face, his heart had nearly stopped beating. She was beautiful. The blonde hair had a streak of purple through the bangs. It fell forward over her face, partially hiding her round violet eyes. He was sure he'd never seen eyes quite that color before. He was captivated by them and couldn't look away. She blinked, and he got the sense that she meant him no harm.
Man, was his intuition off. One of the men started yelling and the accursed gwobr actually shot him! He'd attacked her, pouncing out of pure animal instinct. He felt her soft weight beneath his paws. His jaw had opened, ready to tear the throat from her neck. Then, he'd looked into her eyes again and he couldn't do it.
Blinking again, Falke brought his mind to the present, and looked around the strange room. The woman's scent was still lingering in his head. He snorted, lifting the bulky weight of his shoulders. The effects of the drug, combined with the fact that he was sore and stiff to begin with, didn't help and he fell back onto his front paws.
As his vision cleared, he looked around. He was in a cage and at first he suspected Myrddin's son, Lord Andras, of kidnapping him to finish what his father had started. They had no proof that Andras was like his father, and were reluctant to judge him by the actions of Lord Myrddin as they didn't want to be judged for King Attor, but that didn't mean Falke trusted the boy completely.
By small degrees, he was able to take in more of his surroundings. The light was dim, but his Var eyes didn't need it to see. His vision cut through the darkness with ease. He'd seen Myrddin's dungeons firsthand and this wasn't them. The walls were constructed of metal--smooth, silver and plain. A low rectangular bed was set next to one wall and he could see wrist manacles hanging from the wall where a headboard should've been. The metal chains were draped like material, starting in the center only to be pulled one to each side and left hanging.
Metal drawers were along one wall, as well as a mirror. There were two narrow, plain doors next to the dresser. A control panel was on the side. Through the mirror, he saw the reflection of what was behind him. It looked as if the cage was in the center of the room on a platform. He was too groggy to lift his head, but he made out the corner edge of what looked like a red and black couch.
If he didn't know better, he'd say he was in a space ship. Remembering the three wobbling strangers, he realized that was entirely possible. But, what would three aliens want with him? Unless, Andras had paid them to kidnap him? Or perhaps the Draig? Was the dragon shifters' truce for peace just a front? Did they think that kidnapping a Var Prince, and the Commander, would aid them for an attack?
Anger and fear for his people curled in his gut. He felt helpless, unable to find out what was going on. Letting his limbs tingle with the familiar sensation of a shift, he started to draw his body into human form. Claws sank into his fingers and toes. His eyes filled in with subtle shades of dark brown, hiding the blue.
"Ahh, crap!"
The words were soft, followed by the sound of someone tripping over their own feet. Falke stopped, reversing his shift to stay as a tiger. It was the female from the forest who spoke, only her voice was softer than before and not as happy.
"Damn! My head," she grumbled under her breath. "I'm never buying anything off a Lophibian smuggler again. That damned whiskey had to be tainted."
Falke stayed still, watching her stumble before the cage clutching her temples. She didn't pay attention to him as she passed by his line of vision. He turned his head to watch her and began to shift again, so that he may demand what she wanted with him in his human voice.
The woman whimpered, soft and low, as she struggled to remove her tight black shirt. Falke stopped, once more morphing back into cat form. A thread of curious excitement curled in his blood. She stood with her side to him and, to his carnal pleasure, the shirt lifted above her head baring two very perfect breasts. A strange blue marking wound around her upper arm. It looked like writing, but he couldn't be sure. As the shirt dropped to the floor, she lifted her hand and ran her fingers back through her hair. Yawning, she scratched under her armpit.
His mouth watered, watching the soft globes jiggle at the movement. They were small, perhaps only a handful, but he didn't mind. They fit perfectly on her slender frame and came with two erect pink nipples. Falke, when shifted to human, was a large man--even for a Var warrior--and her small, almost delicate appearance nearly sent him over the edge with hot desire.
He was suddenly reminded how long it had been since he'd taken a woman to his bed. It had be at least a week, perhaps a week and a half--definitely too long a time for a man with his natural sexual prowess to go without release. Looking at her slender hips, he knew her body would make an agonizingly tight fit to his large shaft. If he'd had a human voice in his Var throat he'd have moaned.
Being half Roane, his body took much delight in sexual appetites. In all other things, he was a man of complete control. In the bedroom it was the same, until he let the passion inside him go. Once let loose, his Roane heritage made him nearly physically insatiable. He could literally last for hours. It often made it necessary to bring several women to his bed at once, otherwise he'd get complaints.
The woman yawned again and stumbled across the room. Falke detected the faint scent of liquor on her and realized that she was very drunk. It accounted for the trio's crazed, uncontrolled laughter before he interrupted them, and for the way they all stumbled around. He mentally shook his head in disgust. They went out on a mission to trap him, a great and noble Commander, and did it drunk? Their foolishness just might be to his advantage. They didn't seem very smart at all. Their lack of cunning could be his means of escape. His situation was looking brighter already.
Then, he noticed the woman's violet eyes were on him. She blinked several times, and appeared to be studying him. Slowly, she walked toward the cage, topless. Falke's lids fell lazily over his eyes as he stared unashamed at her breasts.
"Huh." She chuckled. "You're going to make me a lot of money. Aren't you, big fella?"
Falke's eyes shot up to hers, instantly angry again. The lust drained to be replaced by outrage. She wasn't even paying attention. Stumbling across the floor, she fell toward the bed, turning at the last minute to lie on her back. Her feet hung over the side, still planted on the floor, still in her black boots. A soft sigh left her parted lips and she began to lightly snore.
Falke growled, but she didn't stir. He forced himself not to look at her breasts. Knowing he had to get some sleep, he closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he'd plan his escape.
Sam didn't want to open her eyes. She wasn't sure she still had eyes. In fact, she wasn't sure she had a head--oh, wait, there it was, it was just set on fire. Without moving, she stretched her jaw, testing a yawn to see if it would jar her senses back into oblivion. It tasted like someone had poured gasoline down her throat. Made sense. They had to start the fire somehow.
When she survived the yawn, she dared to peek through her lids. The lights were dim, just as she liked them. Groaning, she muttered, "Computer, activate personal medic."
"Yes, Your Highness," the computer's neutral tone answered. Sam chuckled and then winced as it hurt to laugh. Viktor had reprogrammed the computer--again. Two weeks ago, it had called her Mistress Samantha. Last week it had referred to her as My Most Wanton Sex Goddess. When hearing the word 'sex' over and over again showed signs of getting to the male members of the crew, she made him change it. Even the stoic Dev had started eyeing her differently.
A buzzing sounded to her right and she didn't move. Without looking, she knew a mechanical arm reached from a slot in the ceiling. The medic unit could be assessed from anywhere in the ship. Sam didn't even want to know what the Kintok, who she'd won the ship from, did out in deep space with all his gadgets. She could only guess he used it to transport sex slaves or to indulge clientele in fetish games. The way she saw it, the less she knew the better. The fact that the medic unit went to all the rooms suggested that sometimes the play got out of hand. The large cage in the room had been his, as were the manacles hanging behind her head. In a perverse way, she liked the look of them there-- though she was hardly into such games.
The medic unit would've been expensive to install. Sam was glad that she had it though, as she ordered, "Computer, get rid of my hangover."
"Yes, your Highness."
Great, Sam thought. He programmed the computer to say that every time she spoke to it. That was going to get annoying fast.
Sam braced, feeling the needle enter her arm. She gritted her teeth, waiting for the unit to finish and pull out. From past experience, she knew it would only take a few minutes for the worst of the pain to subside. However, the fatigue and general state of delicateness could sometimes last for a few hours afterwards.
"Ah, that's more like it," Sam moaned, blinking as she rolled up. Her legs hung over the side of the bed. The tension in her head eased and her vision cleared. Feeling drafty, she looked down. What had happened to her shirt? Seeing it on the floor, she grimaced and tried her best to remember what she'd done the night before. She wasn't too worried. Her pants were on, so that was a plus.
"Torganian rum," she mumbled, remembering the bottle of stout liquor they'd opened. It was about the last thing she recalled doing--aside from the vague memory of playing cards. Pushing to her feet, she said sarcastically, "Mental note to self. Kill a Torganian for making rum."
The metal door next to the dresser slid up automatically as she walked towards it. She went into the bathroom decontaminator unit to freshen up, slipping out of her clothes. She stood still and let the cleaning lasers hit her body. Opening her mouth, it cleaned there too. Feeling refreshed, she walked naked from the bathroom, her bare feet crushing into the padded red carpet.
Stretching as she moved, Sam flinched. Her back was really sore. She turned to the mirror, looking at it.
"What the...?" She frowned. A large bruise wound down the side of her spine. She reached behind to poke at it. It was a stupid move, because poking only made it ache worse. Sam closed her eyes, willing her body to heal itself. The bruise yellowed and then faded completely away. Dropping her hand, she walked across the room to her vanity to do her hair.
Sam leaned over the back of the chair, looked at her face, and winced. A streak of black makeup stretched out across her cheek from her eyes. The decontaminator unit was set not to remove her makeup. She pushed a button and took out the warm towel the computer provided. Rubbing her features, she cleaned them off and threw the towel back into the bin.
"Computer, were there any fights last night aboard the ship?" Sam asked, thinking of her back.
"No, Your Highness," the computer answered.
"It's Captain," Sam grumbled. "Or Sam."
"Yes, your Highness."
"Ugh. Second mental note to self. Kill Viktor for lack of humor," she whispered absently. Sam leaned forward toward the vanity mirror, contemplating dyeing her whole head purple and silver for the day.
"That's a long list of condemned men, my lady," said a deep, masculine voice. "Tell me. Am I on it?"
Sam jumped in surprise, standing up straight. Nerves jolted to life all over her body. Her stomach tightened in knots.
"Devil, what are you ... ahh!" Sam froze, her eyes fixed on the cage. That definitely wasn't Dev standing there behind bars. For one, his skin was a dark golden brown, not red. Second, his eyes were the color of dark Lithorian chocolate. Third.... Sam panted wildly. She couldn't find a third. She could barely breathe. The man was completely nude.
Unbidden her eyes moved over him. His hair was brown, darker than his eyes. It spilled in gentle waves down his shoulders. He leaned against the bars of the cage, arms relaxed and crossed through the opening in the bars. Every inch of him bulged with defined muscles, from his thick arms to his broad shoulders, his hands, and his smooth chest. This man more than took care of himself. Even his neck seemed thick and strong.
Sam took her time, letting her gaze move down his chest. Small scars puckered his flesh in spots, proving that he'd been in battle or hand-to-hand combat. By the looks of him, she'd guessed he usually won.
She frowned when she couldn't see his stomach and thighs in the dim light. The way he leaned cast a shadow over his midsection. By the look of him, that would be impressive too. His bottom was the same as his top, muscular calves, strongly defined feet. Oh, his feet were glorious, just like his hands. They looked powerful, flexing slightly with tendons. Sam swallowed. She wasn't a foot person, but damned if his didn't look good.
Her mouth was dry and she had the strangest urge to touch him, kiss him, lick him --starting at his feet and working her way up. She blinked in surprise at the impulse. That wasn't like her. She wasn't driven by carnal impulses. Something was wrong here, very, very wrong. Her wide violet eyes flew up to his face. He was staring at her, smirking.
"Now that I have your attention back," he said, unmoving. His smirk deepened into a rueful smile that somehow managed to look stern. "Tell me, if you don't plan on killing me, what do you have planned? Torture?"
"I...." Sam couldn't think. Her mouth worked and she knew in the back of her head she must look like an imbecile, standing there gaping at him. She grasped desperately for a rational thought. What was a naked man doing locked in her room? What was a naked man doing on her ship--well, a man who wasn't a member of her crew? How did he even come to be there? Thinking the rum had somehow affected her brain, she rubbed her eyes with one hand, willing her vision to clear. When she looked, he was still there.
"Hum," the prisoner mused. His voice was so low, so hard and militant that she felt as if she were about to be scolded. The man straightened completely to his full height.
Automatically, her eyes went down, finding the largest erection she'd ever seen. Hell, the largest she'd ever even heard of. It was enough to drive fear into her and shake her back to reality. "If the guys put you up to this, they're going to be so dead."
"You threaten death a lot, my lady," the man answered, calm, collected, and not at all bothered that he was standing naked before her.
Well, Sam was more than bothered. She was very hot and very bothered by it. Her limbs trembled. She might feel a sudden rush of primal attraction to this man, but she'd never act on it. Not when he brandished a weapon like that around. A woman would have to be insane to willingly take that into her bed! It'd tear her in two.
"You shouldn't do so unless you're willing to carry the threat out." His eyes were watching her carefully for reactions and instantly she knew he was sizing her up. Her jaw stiffened with determination. She was the Captain here, not he! How dare he think to give her lessons on threats! For all he knew, she did carry them out.
"If that's the torture you had in mind, my lady, please feel free to open the cage." He motioned down to his arousal. "I'm more than ready for it. By all means, do your worst."
Sam glanced down and again forgot her train of thought. For a brief moment, she considered crossing to the cage. Surely with the bars she could at least touch it, see what it felt like, take it into her mouth and taste it. It wasn't like he could do anything trapped inside. Hearing his soft chuckle, she shook herself. What was she thinking? What in the world was wrong with her this morning? Damned rum! Did she say she was only killing one Torganian? Better make that two. Glancing down over him, she gulped. Make that ten.
Falke watched the slender woman in fascination. Sacred Cats! She was stunning. How could he help but get hard seeing her naked body cross the room. He'd watched her wake up, walk to the bathroom, come back out naked. He had stayed quiet, waiting for her to turn her attention to her prisoner. It was almost like she'd forgotten he was there. Wanting to see if her eyes were as violet as he remembered, he just had to speak.
Now, watching her naked form before him, standing motionless, he couldn't help but look his fill of her. Who was he to miss such an opportunity as it arose? He wasn't disappointed. Her breasts were still perfect and still made his mouth water, as did the small thatch of hair between her toned thighs. She wasn't all hard muscle, but she was fit. He liked his women to have softness to them. Women were meant to be soft, touchable. They were meant to mold to a man's body, yielding and sweet. He hated when females had physical strength to rival his own.
His shaft grew so hard at her attention it started to throb with need. Her lush lips were parted and he said a silent prayer to all his Gods that she would walk close enough for him to grab her to the bars. Insanely, he was sure he could reach the depths of her body through the cage if necessary.
Closing his eyes briefly, Falke swallowed. He had to get himself under control. It was just that her smell was driving him wild. He wanted a closer sniff, a closer look, a feel, a taste. It had been his intention to throw her off guard, but if she kept silently staring at him like that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from ripping through the bars and throwing her onto the bed to ravish her.
"You spoke well enough last night," Falke said, keeping his voice steady and low. It was the same tone he used when training his men, neutral so they never knew his moods. Not knowing if he was angry seemed to motivate them more than his actual anger did. It was the element of uncertainty.
"I ... wait. You spoke to me last night?" she asked.
"No, you spoke to your crew," Falke stated. "Right before you shot me. I woke up in this cage."
"Shot you?" she asked, blinking in disbelief. "Did you raid my ship?"
"You raided my home planet and kidnapped me." Falke frowned. She really did look like she couldn't remember him. As to prove his point, he rotated his hand. In his palm he had three darts.
"How ... did you get those?" Sam asked, shaking her head. She was confused. What was this guy talking about? The darts were hers, or at least like hers. Suddenly, a vague image filtered through her brain. She saw a flash of bright blue eyes surrounded by white fur. A wave of protectiveness went over her. Her fingers flexed as if she could feel the soft coat beneath her fingers. Her eyes still closed, she whispered, "We were in a forest. I ... I don't understand. We wouldn't have left the ship ... we couldn't have."
"Excuse me," Falke interrupted. "Can you figure out your mistake after we find our pleasure? I'm kind of hurting here."
Sam blinked, not understanding, and he motioned down to his shaft.
"Or at least put some clothes on. Walking around like that is bound to give a man the wrong impression."
Sam shivered. His words were hard and she had the distinct impression he wasn't attracted to her at all. That, in fact, he was merely speaking to throw her off guard with his boldness. Then, his words sank in.
She looked down her body and shrieked in horror when she saw her nudity. With the strange interruption to her morning, she'd completely forgotten about it. Gulping, she knew she was hardly considered an immodest woman. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time anyone had seen her naked. Her cheeks flamed as she dove onto the bed to wrap herself in her comforter.
"I take it that's a no on the pleasure?" Falke called, his voice irritatingly mocking and dry.
Sam wanted to die. What was wrong with her? It was as if her body was slow to react, her mind even slower. Scrambling in her comforter to the dresser, she grabbed a tight black jumpsuit and pulled it on. It took a long time under the blanket's weight but she didn't dare drop it. Her legs slipped in and she worked the tank sleeve over her top. The outfit was one fitted piece, hugging tight to her skin. Then, grabbing a belt, she slipped it low on her hips. The comforter dropped from her shoulders.
Sam turned, picking up her shoes. Her eyes fluttered and she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Instantly, her cheeks flamed. He was still naked, staring at her with an expression of keen boredom. Her mouth opened, trying to find words. His brow rose in challenge. All that came out was a squeak. Spinning around on her heels, she ran out the cabin door.
Falke sighed heavily, staring after her in confusion. She'd moved with such confidence and authority the night before and that morning. Now, she was like a witless female. A rueful smile curled his lips. He had many effects on women in the past, but running away speechless had never been one of them.
It had been much easier to disarm her than he'd first imagined. Escape might not be all that difficult. Too bad he hadn't paid more attention to his brother Reid. Reid's charm would definitely come in handy while trying to convince his captor to open the cage and let him out.
Falke stretched in the middle of the empty cage. The floor was hard and sleeping on it had caused his muscles to lock up. Jumping, he gripped the top bars with his hands and allowed his body to dangle as he stretched out his back. The image of violet eyes swam in his head and he felt the old familiar stir of a challenge in his chest, mixed with the potent reality of animalistic lust. It had been a long time since he was challenged by anything. Falke grinned, suddenly not feeling as restless as he examined his situation. This might actually turn out to be fun.
Sam took several deep breaths, stopping in the long metal corridor. Bars of artificial light glowed intermittently to light the hall and, for a moment, she was strangely mesmerized by them. The familiar sounds of her crew in the ship's dining cabin brought her some comfort and a sense of normality.
Now that she was out of the naked prisoner's presence, she wanted to kick herself. She really wasn't on the top of her game this morning to let him get to her like that. It wasn't so much what he said, but the cold, indifferent way he looked at her. It contrasted his actual words. Though, hearing his voice in her head, she realized his tone had been flat and hard. She'd just been too busy staring at his naked form to realize it.
Well, whoever he is, he won't catch me off guard again, Sam promised herself.
"It's not our fault you all are a bunch of pussies and can't hold your liquor," Evan was saying.
"I can't believe you went without us," Viktor grumbled. Sam grinned despite herself, hiding around the corner where they couldn't see her. He sounded so forlorn.
"So, what happened?" This time it was Rick. She'd know his laughing tone anywhere. It matched his easy-going features and the devil-may-care glint in his brown eyes. Only, in Rick's instance, Devil did care. Dev was all about maintaining order. Rick was all about breaking it. It often led to humorous fights. Sometimes when the crew was bored, they'd provoke them into an argument for entertainment.
There was a strange silence and Sam crept closer to hear the answer. She really couldn't remember anything but bits and pieces of the night before. Maybe if she heard what happened, she wouldn't appear so clueless to the others when she walked in.
"Ah," Evan began.
"Well," Lucien added. "We don't exactly remember."
"I think we captured a wild animal, but I've go not clue what we did with it," Evan said.
"You remember that, too? I thought it was a dream." Lucien's voice was awed. A round of laughter burst forth. "I think we brought it back here."
"Great, it's probably out stalking the halls." Sam could just picture Evan shaking his head. "Wonderful."
Sam sighed. Well, at least she wasn't the only one with a faulty memory of the night. Taking one last calming breath, she walked around the corner. She went to the food simulator, and said to it, "Coffee, dark, dark black."
"You look like I feel," Evan greeted. Sam ignored him.
"Hey, Captain, hair of the dog?" Rick smirked.
Sam turned to him and lifted her drink. Pointing the mug at him, she said, "I never understand half of what you say. You really should get your head out of that twentieth century memorabilia."
"Twenty-first." Rick's grin widened.
"Whatever," Sam mumbled between sips.
"So, Captain, what ya do last night?" Viktor asked, blinking so innocently she'd have bought it if not for overhearing their conversation.
"Obviously, I kidnapped a naked man," Sam said dryly. The men started laughing, not believing her. Hell, now that she started to feel more alert, she wasn't sure she believed her. She nudged Lucien in the hip with her boot and he dutifully moved over to let her sit down on the bench seat. Blessed Stars, but her head was throbbing again.
"You three look as if you were crushed with a landing pod," Viktor said. "What were you drinking last night? Just that whiskey?"
Evan, Lucien, and Sam all shared an amused look. They didn't even try to hide their mischievous grins. All three turned to stare at Viktor.
"What?" he demanded.
"Ah, you know that secret stash you have next to the lavatory?" Lucien asked, doing his best to maintain a straight face.
Viktor turned serious and defended, "Hey, those magazine chips are purely for the articles. I swear I hardly even look at the holographic images."
A round of laughter exploded. Viktor even joined in.
"Not those, rocket boy," Lucien said. "The alien liquor you've been holding out on us."
This time Viktor really did look confused. "Liquor? What liquor? And why were the three of you looking at my magazine chips? Please tell me I didn't miss out on anything good."
"Nothing happened," Sam mumbled. Well, at least she was pretty sure nothing had happened. She absently scratched her armpit, remembering waking up naked. Her cheeks colored slightly. If there was a man in her room, had she undressed for him before passing out? Did she undress him? Evan's voice startled her and she lost her train of thought. It was like a mist settled over her brain, making it hard to concentrate.
"The Torganian rum," Evan said. "We found it."
Viktor paled even more. Slowly, he shook his head.
"What?" Sam demanded. There was something odd in the way he was looking at them. "What is it?"
"It's not Torganian Rum, it's pronounced roome-ah," Viktor answered. He studied them intently. "It's not even liquor."
"Well," Sam demanded. "What is it?"
"It's hard to explain," Viktor answered. "For the Torganian it's a psychotropic. It makes them see their dream visions. A shaman gave it to me for enlightenment. For most species, that's all it does--gives pleasant dreams. But, in humans it doesn't work the same. From what I understand, it acts like a numbing agent to the human mind, scrambling your head so you can't think straight for long periods, hell maybe even short periods. I don't really know for sure. It dulls the brain of rational thought patterns and makes a person act carelessly. Reactions are delayed. And all this is on top of the visions. Sometimes the effects are said to be permanent. Being as none of us are full blooded human, I can't say how it would affect us."
Sam, Evan, and Lucien sat in silence.
"Do you guys feel any different?" Viktor asked, concern in his voice. Even Rick eyed them with worry.
"Why would you have that?" Lucien frowned at his brother.
"I don't know," Viktor answered. "Novelty? Truth serum for human captives--if we ever had any? I certainly didn't expect any of you guys to steal it from me! Blessed Stars, how did you even manage to swallow it? I've tried just a bit on the tip of my tongue once and nearly puked."
Sam blinked, feeling sick to her stomach. Maybe that was it. Maybe the man in her room was a hallucination. She was half Ticara, though she often chose to deny that side of herself. Maybe she wasn't just mind-numb, but hallucinating as well. If there was a man in her room, wouldn't she be freaking out right now? Should she be freaking out right now? Why wasn't she freaking out right now?
"Sam? You all right?" Rick asked.
"Where's Dev?" Sam blinked, looking around the small dining cabin. "I need everyone to come with me."
"What's going on?" Evan was instantly concerned.
"Computer, have Dev meet me in my quarters," Sam announced, pushing to her feet. Her mind was still fuzzy, but that made sense now. It's why her reaction time was down and why she couldn't focus on one thought more than a moment. Sitting with her crew, she'd actually managed to forget there was a naked man in her room. Or was he there?
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Viktor, so help me...." Sam began, stiffening. Without even looking at him, she lifted a fist in annoyance.
Viktor threw up his hands. "It's done. It's gone. I'll reprogram it."
"Thank you," Sam whispered, her lips tight with annoyance. Then, seeing them all standing, waiting to follow her, she grimaced. She was doing it again--losing her train of thought. Her voice hard, as she tried to concentrate, she stated, "Come with me."
Dev was already at her door waiting when they arrived. His black brow arched slightly on his red face, but he said nothing. Stepping back from the wall, he let Sam pass. Sam stopped by the door, hesitating. Glancing at Dev, she saw him frown. His oversized presence gave her some comfort.
"Sam?" Evan began, confused. "What's going on?"
Sam placed her shaking hand on the scanner and watched her door slide open. Her eyes automatically went to the cage. The prisoner stood up as she walked in. The crew followed her. His face was rigid as he eyed her crew. Sam was unable to look away from him. She wouldn't be surprised if he was a figment of her imagination. If she was to imagine a perfect man, this guy would be it. Well, except for the overlarge limb between his strong thighs. Oh, that was still there as well, though the erection had gone down some. "Tell me. Do you see him too?"
"Blessed Stars!" Viktor and Lucien swore in perfect unison.
"What the...?" Evan whispered.
"I've seen bigger," Rick announced, chuckling, though there was a manly awe and appreciation in his tone that could only come from such an insane moment.
"You see it, too?" Sam asked. She turned to Dev. "Dev?"
Dev nodded. Like usual he was silent.
"Who is he?" Evan asked.
"He says we kidnapped him," Sam answered, keeping her tone low. None of them approached the cage, but stood close to the door staring at the man. "Last night. He says I shot him with darts."
"No, you shot an animal with darts," Lucien said. "It attacked you."
Viktor hit him in the chest hard. "Does that look like an animal to you, moron?"
"Ow!" Lucien swore.
"Pussy," Viktor mumbled.
"But, that's what I remember--" Lucien defended.
"Shut up," Evan hissed. "Not now."
"Thank you," Sam acknowledged, in no mood to be distracted by a fight between the two brothers.
"Where'd you guys go last night?" Rick asked.
"Just outside," Lucien said.
"What's the planet's name?" Rick insisted.
"I can't remember," Lucien said. When he glanced at Sam and Evan, they shrugged. "We were too wasted."
"Man, that explains why my controls were all messed up this morning," Rick grumbled. "I wasn't going to say anything because I was afraid I'd taken us for a joyride again."
"The planet has to be close," Sam inserted. Looking at the stranger, seeing his dark eyes boring into her, she suddenly wanted to run away. She felt dizzy, faint. Maybe she wanted to run to him. No, that was insane.
"Close to what?" Rick asked.
"Close to here," Sam growled, looking at him. She waved her hand past the cage to the far wall that separated them from outer space. "Close to us. We couldn't have taken the space pod far, especially not weighed down with any kind of transporter. Look at him. He's as big as Dev! We couldn't have darted him and then carried him ourselves."
"Yeah, but Captain," Rick reasoned. "We're no longer in the Y Quadrant."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked, turning on Rick. Damn, so much for just kicking him out into the space pod and taking off. A sinking sensation knotted her stomach. The full realization of what they'd done started to overwhelm her. They'd kidnapped an alien being--a being outside the Federation's boundaries. Just the size of him made her think of a warrior race. Even now they could have hundreds of starships on their tail.
"You told me to get us moving when I got up this morning." Rick shrugged.
"Then take us back," Evan said evenly. "Now."
"I wasn't paying attention when we took off," Rick answered, shrugging again. "We were in the middle of nowhere. I didn't think it mattered. If you remember, we traded the computer's log component to an Ulori to get the 'non-humanoid green liquid' thing on the list."
"What in the hell are we supposed to do with him?" Sam began to shake. The man in the cage wasn't moving. He just stood, staring at her in his cold, empty way. She shivered anew, wondering if that was possessiveness in his eyes or just scorching anger. He was nearly impossible to read.
"He's not my type," Rick chuckled. "But you could keep him for yourself. When we get to Torgan, if you're bored with him, you could always sell him as a sex slave. With his ... ahhh ... yeah, he'd fetch a good price."
Sam punched his arm. She knew Rick was kidding. None of them would ever sell another being into slavery--no matter the profit to be had by it. "You're so not funny!"
"Then why'd you take his clothes off him, if you're not interested?" Rick teased.
Sam paled. Had she taken his clothes off? Her eyes flew back to the man. Just looking at his firm, naked body was doing strange things to her. She swallowed, suddenly nervous and a little too hot.
"Damn, just look at him," Rick said. "He is well hung, Captain, you got to admit."
"Quit being lewd, Rick," Lucien scolded.
"Can I say something?" the man in the cell asked. Sam shivered. His voice was deep, smooth as silk, but as hard as the metal wall of her ship. "I mean, if you're all done staring at my manhood?"
The whole group fell silent, as they suddenly realized they were having their conversation in front of the cell where he could hear them. They did that sometimes. After spending months aboard the ship, they just fell into the habit of excluding others from their conversations, even when the others were right there. Rick had the decency to clear his throat and to look embarrassed. Everyone's eyes darted away from the prisoner's naked waist.
"The planet you're thinking of is called Qurilixen," the prisoner stated, sounding bored.
"Oh, that was it!" Evan exclaimed, snapping his fingers.
Sam glared at Evan before taking a step forward. "What is your name?"
"Prince Falke of Var," Falke answered. His face was full of pride. "Commander of the Var Armies."
There was a stunned silence. Rick started chuckling softly, nervously saying, "Yeah, right. Good one, buddy. You got us."
"I don't think he's kidding," Evan whispered. Sam swore. Evan's limited telepathic abilities made him very adapt at reading people.
"Blessed Stars," Viktor said on a sigh. "What did you guys do?"
"I'll take the blame for this," Sam whispered, really nervous about what might happen to her if anyone came looking for her.
"Sam--" Evan began.
"Prince Falke," Sam didn't want argument. She was the one who shot the dart, so she was the one who would face whatever consequences. Looking at the warrior man, she really hoped there were none. She did her best to remain calm. Quickly pointing to everyone, she made introductions. Then, she added, "I'm Samantha Dorsey, Captain of the...." Closing her eyes, she fought a blush. "...the Bound Virgin. We're going to change the name of the ship, it's just Federation paperwork to do so is really expensive and we can't seem to agree on a name."
Falke didn't move. He appeared unimpressed with her babbling explanation. Sam cleared her throat. Since when did she babble? Damn, it must be the effects of the drink.
"Listen," she said. "There has been a terrible mistake."
Falke's brow rose on his stoic features. Sam's heart fluttered in her chest. She couldn't lose it, not now in front of the men.
"You are not, by any means, a prisoner here," Sam said, trying to give a placating smile. She really didn't want to have warrior royalty on her ship. "In fact, you're more ... you're more like an honored guest."
Sam forced a wider, hopeful smile. He didn't look convinced. In truth, he only looked angrier. His hands were on the bars, gripping them so tight that his knuckles were white.
"Ah, I told you that Scavenger Hunt was a bad idea," Evan swore under his breath.
"Shut it," Sam growled, turning to glare at him, before turning back to the Var Commander. "Ah, Rick, why don't you go get the Prince here some food? He must be starving."
"Aye, Captain," Rick said, turning to leave.
"Evan, go let the good Prince out of the cage," Sam said.
"Uh, no," Evan answered. "You do it Lucien."
"Not me!" Lucien answered. "He'll bend me in half."
"Fine," Sam answered, in obvious irritation. Her wide violet eyes looked at him, frightened.
Falke watched the slender woman with irritation from his cell. She hardly looked fit to be ship's Captain. She lacked discipline, as did her crew. To be an effective leader, one had to be in complete and utter control of the situation at all times. She let these men talk to her as if they were on the same level.
Falke felt his body stir. Even through his irritation, he found her very desirable. He wanted to kiss her tightly pressed lips until they relaxed. He wanted to feel her skin, caressing her until she panted for more and sighed his name in her beautiful voice. Such a woman wouldn't make for a good Commander, but perhaps if she was the one being commanded? His body lurched and he fought hard to keep his body from becoming obviously aroused. He didn't want more attention drawn to his shaft.
Falke was used to being naked in front of his own soldiers, and wasn't by any means modest, but none of his men stared at him with the open curiosity these people showed. The only one he instantly thought a worthy adversary was the red creature who stood silent next to the Captain. His arms were folded over his chest. Now that was the man who should've been in charge.
No wonder they were all allowed to run wild, kidnapping strangers off their home planets! Hell, they probably didn't even realize he was a shifter. He wasn't stupid, even if he'd hardly ever left Qurilixen in his eighty-two years of living. If they were heading to the Torgan slave auctions, undoubtedly they were dealing with the black market. Falke had never been there, but Jarek had mentioned the planet in his transmissions home. His hands tightened on the bars. He'd be damned if he'd let them sell him as a sex slave.
"Fine," Sam repeated. She didn't sound too enthusiastic about her decision. "I'll do it."
The red one's hand shot out to her arm, stopping her. Very quietly, Dev said, "No."
"Dev?" Sam asked in her soft, tinkling voice.
"I don't trust him. We don't know who he is. For the safety of the crew, you should leave him where he's at." Dev's expression was neutral.
Falke frowned, irritated. It was exactly what he would've done in their situation.
"We can't just leave him in there," Sam whispered. "He didn't do anything wrong."
"We don't really have a choice." Evan placed a hand on her bare shoulder and squeezed. Falke felt his body leaping with jealousy. Sam patted the man's hand lightly and nodded. Falke's grip on the bars tightened until he felt as if he could crush the metal with his hands.
"Fine," Sam muttered. Then, she surprised him. Falke watched her face harden. With authority in her tone, she said, "Evan, go see what's keeping Rick. Tell him to chart a course for Qurilixen. Viktor check our supplies. Lucien, go monitor communications. See if anyone from his planet is following us or trying to contact us. Dev, I'm going to need a change of clothes for the Prince. You're about his size."
Falke felt his lip threaten to lift into an impressed smile. He didn't think he could've found her any more appealing, but the way she ordered the men around really was a turn on. Perhaps it would be fun to let her play commander with him. He might actually enjoy following her orders. This time when desire flooded him he couldn't keep it down.
Sam's violet eyes met his from across the room. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but held back. The men were leaving, going to do as she said. When they were alone, she stepped toward him.
"I really am sorry about this." Her voice was soft, barely audible.
"Then let me out. You say I'm no prisoner."
"I can't ... Dev--"
"I thought you were in command of this ship," Falke challenged.
"I am ... sort of. The ship is mine and legally that makes me the Captain, but we're more of a democracy."
"I see." Falke nodded. Now that actually made sense. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or upset by his capture. He was really leaning toward upset. How was it these inept creatures managed to kidnap him? Sacred Cats! First Myrddin and now this! It was too much. He must really be losing his edge. He was fast becoming a disgrace to his title and position. "What do you want with me?"
"Well, you know how it is. We were drinking too much last night, one thing led to another ... there's this Scavenger Hunt." Sam paused, studying him. She seemed nervous. Well, good. She should be. Fidgeting, she glanced around the room as if trying to find anything to do that would take her attention off of him and their conversation. "Okay, maybe you don't know how it is."
"Your Highness," Falke began. "As one royal to another, I give you my word of honor that I will not harm you so long as you bring me home--now."
"How...?" Sam blinked, getting caught up in his eyes. Blessed Stars! He was handsome. Her eyes dropped down, but it was a mistake for his arousal stood strong and proud from his hips. Her face drained of color and her heart beat really fast. What had she been about to say? "Oh, the computer. That's why you think ... I'm not royalty. It's a joke."
"I fail to see the humor in impersonating royalty," Falke answered.
"Well," Sam mumbled, rolling her eyes as she crossed past his cage to her living area. "You probably would."
Falke cleared his throat, moving around the cage to watch her. Behind him was a small living area. The black couches were long and wide, with low backs. Red cushions were thrown haphazardly over them. He watched as Sam kicked off her shoes, baring her feet, before dropping onto the couch.
"Thank you for the clothes," Falke said, wanting her attention back on him and off whatever it was she stared at. Sam glanced at him and shrugged.
"Why are you naked anyway?" she asked, looking at her hand.
Falke wasn't sure how to answer without telling her he was a shifter. He didn't want to make the slave auctions more tempting of an idea. "I was ... exercising."
"Hum," Sam mumbled, making an exaggerated face of disbelief. She rolled her eyes. "If that's what you want to call it."
"What?"
"Well, there are only a few reasons men strip down. One to bathe and the other to," Sam paused and Falke swore she was blushing.
"To...?" he prompted.
"Mating," Sam said, her tone forced as if the very idea of saying the word embarrassed her. He watched her face. "They strip for mating."
"Mating," Falke repeated, letting his voice dip low. To his delight, she shivered. Ah, so the little Captain wasn't completely immune to him. Her sugary fragrance filled his head. "Tell me, Captain, do you ever mate?"
"No."
Falke blinked, expecting her to laugh. She didn't. She was serious. Very practical, he offered, "Why don't you give me the opportunity to change your answer? I can smell that you desire me. I need release. You have the manacles if you don't trust me to behave."
Falke was very serious in his offer. There was no modesty in sexual things for the Var. Sex was as natural as breathing. Although may of the women on his planet were not Var by blood, they usually adopted the Var ways as their own, becoming free in the bedroom. Besides, the Roane half of him drew energy from sexual pleasures.
"Ahh," Sam looked around, appearing almost helpless as she didn't answer him. Almost desperately, her eyes fell on the wall. Her tone rushed, she ordered, "Computer, play recordings."
"Yes, Your Highness," the computer answered. Sam closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. Low music began to play in the background and Falke saw a bluish light reflecting off her delicate features.
"Did I say something?" he asked. It was clear to see she was desperately trying to avoid him at any cost.
"Shhh, stop talking. I've never seen this film."
"Film?" Falke asked. The music stopped and people began talking. He watched. "Who is there? Do you have a communication open?"
"Shhh," she hissed, frantically waving her hand at him to be quiet. Sam pulled a pillow to her stomach and drew her legs up on the couch. "It's old Earth television."
"Ah, like plays," Falke said, remembering hearing of such from the harem women. Jarek and Reid's mother had enjoyed such things when she was alive.
"Yeah, like plays," Sam said, not turning to him.
"What play is it?" Falke really wanted her attention back on him.
Sam sighed heavily and turned to look at him. "Do you want a pillow or something?"
Falke nodded.
"Maybe a blanket, too, so you can cover up?"
"Why? Does my nudity bother you?" Falke teased. The woman looked mortified. Obviously, she didn't get the joke. That happened to him a lot. He couldn't help it if his face wasn't as expressive as his brothers'. He tried grinning on purpose once to be friendly and ended up scaring a group of young Var boys back to their homes. They'd been convinced the Commander Prince wanted to eat them.
A throat clearing saved her from answering. Evan walked in with the food. He was soon followed by Dev.
"Recording off," Sam said, grimacing as the computer answered.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What ya watching?" Evan asked. His tray was weighted down with food. When her brow rose, he shrugged. "We forgot to ask what he ate."
"He eats food," Falke put forth in great irritation.
Evan hesitated, glancing from his tray to the cage. Falke lowered his chin, silently daring the man to step closer. Dev was unafraid as he moved to the cell. He'd been the only one to approach close enough for him to grab. Falke held back, biding his time. He really wanted to get his hands on the Captain. He had a feeling that these men might risk Dev's safety, but would easily be distracted if the little female was in jeopardy.
Dev slid the clothes through the bars and set them on the floor. Then, without having to be asked, he took the tray from Evan. Falke didn't move. The man's black eyes lifted up briefly to watch him as he kneeled. Lifting his hand to the door scanner, the cage popped open and he quickly slid the tray in, pushing the door shut just as fast. He stood, turning to leave without comment.
"Ah, Dev?" Sam called. Dev stopped. "Wait, I want to talk to you."
Falke watched in disappointment as all three left him alone. Then, looking around his cage, he sighed. He might as well eat and get dressed since there was nothing better to do. As he moved to see what they'd brought him, he couldn't help but notice the room suddenly seemed dismal without Captain Sam.
"Captain, we got us a small problem," Viktor said, stepping into the large cockpit where Sam and Rick were checking out a bunch of holographic star maps.
"I know, I know," Sam sighed in exasperation. "And I'll tell you like I told Lucien, Evan, and Rick here. I'm sorry for darting the Prince. I don't know what I was thinking, or why he's now in my room. Yes, I still want to make the Scavenger Hunt and I still want to win that prize money. No, I don't think I stripped him of his clothes. He was naked when we found him."
"Yeah, see, I'd call the Prince thing a big problem," Viktor said. "But, your speech was pretty and all."
Sam frowned. She stretched her arms over her head. She'd used the personal medic again and her hangover pain was almost completely gone, though her mind was still foggy. "What else could possibly be wrong?"
"Well, you know when we took that small detour to the mining colonies back in the X?" Viktor asked.
Sam sighed. They'd gone to the X Quadrant to see the Galaxy Playmates--or more correctly, the guys had pouted for a week until she took them to the X Quadrant to see the Galaxy Playmates. She didn't really care. The men went off, got laid, and came back in better moods. She was afforded alone time on the ship. It worked out well for everyone. "I don't have time for this now. If you're that bound up, go to the lavatory and use one of your magazines. I am not detouring to go watch strippers."
Rick began to laugh. Viktor smirked.
"Well, actually, that sucks that we can't go see strippers," Viktor answered. "But, what I'm getting at is ... well, certain women at the mining colony cost a certain amount of space credits and a few of us--now, I'm not mentioning names--a few of us didn't have our cards with us, you know in case they were ID checking or there was a riot."
Sam looked at him dispassionately, and mumbled, "Go on."
"You're going to laugh," Viktor said, suddenly fighting her stare. "It's really kind of funny."
Rick snickered and didn't even pretend to look away from the conversation.
"Humor me then," Sam said. Viktor was avoiding. This was never good. "Just be blunt."
"We traded the extra fuel reserves for sex," Viktor stated. "We siphoned it out the next morning when you were still sleeping."
"You what?!" Sam yelled.
"It was good sex," Viktor offered, weakly.
"Really good sex," Rick chimed in. "Great, fantastic, supermodel sex. You would've done the same thing."
"Shut it, Rick!" Sam growled. She glared at both of them in turn. "So, you're telling me we're out of fuel? In the middle of deep space? And all because you guys wanted to get laid by super sluts?"
"Hey, they're performance artists, really hot performance artists with really big...." Rick let his words trail off as he held his hand up to mimic gigantic breasts. He nodded his head in feigned longing. Sam continued to glare, not amused.
"No, no, we're not out," Viktor said, his tone placating. "We made sure we'd have enough to get to Torgan where we could refuel them without your knowing about it."
Sam didn't know what pissed her off the most. The fact that they had done it or the fact that they weren't going to tell her they'd done it. They were a team--friends. They shouldn't have kept that from her.
"It's worked before," Viktor defended at her look.
Sam didn't even want to touch that comment.
"So, what you're saying is that if we turn around and drop the Prince off we won't have enough fuel to get anywhere?" Sam asked, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up," Viktor said. "Believe me, I checked before I had to come tell you. I knew you'd be mad about it."
"You do realize that not only do we not have fuel, but we're broke." Sam sighed. She'd sold the last of her jewels a few months ago. "Dead broke."
"What you want to do, Cap?" Rick asked.
"What else can we do at this point? Keep going to Torgan." Sam ran her hand through her purple and blonde locks, growling in frustration. "We'll just have to figure out some way to keep the Prince happy until we can get him back."
"I have a suggestion," Rick said. "He seems to like you."
Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Just listen for a second. The guy likes you and he's ... ah ... equipped." Rick nodded enthusiastically.
Sam's lips pressed together. This was Rick being subtle.
"I mean, your shots are up to date, aren't they?" Rick insisted.
One of Sam's brows arched up on her forehead.
"I can check your medical file if you want me to," Viktor interjected. "You know it might not be a bad plan. You haven't--"
Sam turned her sharp expression on him, daring him to finish the sentence.
"Ah, Chrissakes, Sam! We all know you haven't been laid in like a millennia," Rick said. "We feel kind of bad for you. I mean, if you won't let one of us help you out...."
Sam closed her eyes. Sure, she got frustrated and sure sometimes the men on the ship started to look like appealing bed partners, but their friendship meant more to her. She wouldn't create that kind of tension on the ship.
"You want me to sleep with the Prince to keep him happy?" Sam summarized carefully.
"He's a guy, isn't he? Trust me. If he's getting laid by a pretty thing like you, he'll be happy." Rick nodded as if he spoke nothing but pure scientific fact.
"No," Sam stated, her tone so flat the subject was automatically over.
"What about the Scavenger Hunt? Can we still enter?" Viktor asked.
"We can enter, but I don't think we can win. I mean, we should enter because we have a great shot at winning with what we've got, but we're an animal short. You know the live transports are the most points. If anything, we should be able to sell what we've got at the market." Sam was glad they dropped her sex life, as she absently pressed buttons on the display to bring up the map of Torgan. Three rings spun at odd angles around a brown-gray planet. "We could all really use the cash."
"What about your father? Ticaron is on the way there. We have enough fuel to stop and still make it to Torgan," Viktor said. "Could he give us a loan? I mean he is--"
Sam's glare cut him off. Even Rick's look turned sour. "Sam, you don't have to go groveling to your father. We don't need his help. We'll figure out a way. We always do."
"I'm going to have a workout," Sam said, slowly walking towards the door.
As she rounded the corner, she heard Rick say, "Damn it, Viktor! Why'd you have to go and mention her father? You've heard what the man's like!"
"Well, he is on the way," Viktor answered. "She should face him sometime. Maybe he's not so bad. Time has a way of changing people."
Sam closed her eyes briefly and then hurried away. She didn't want to hear anymore.
Like a coward, Sam stayed away from her room all day. She didn't even make it to her workout. Instead, she sent Dev to make sure the Prince had everything he needed. As evening approached her head started to clear, much to her relief. It was like a haze being lifted from her senses. She hadn't realized how dull sound was, or how drab the colors around her had become.
As she finished eating supper, she knew she'd have to go back. The idea of sleeping in the same room as the Var Prince was a little disconcerting, even if he was behind bars. Looking at her crew, she knew they'd all be going to bed soon. They looked beat from drinking themselves into oblivion the night before. Sam could definitely relate.
Unable to put off the inevitable, she walked back to her room. The light inside was still dim. Automatically, her eyes went to her captive. She didn't know how she was going to tell him they couldn't bring him straight home. Though, she had two ideas. The first was to say they were lost in space. The second was to drug his food so he didn't know there'd been a time lapse until he was back.
The Prince sat with his back to the bars. He faced the front door, his knees drawn up, his arms resting on his knees to dangle forward. Poor man looked bored out of his mind. When he saw her, he didn't move from his place.
He was dressed in black, compliments of Dev's uninventive wardrobe. She'd thought having him covered would've calmed her interest in him a little. That apparently wasn't the case. Her breathing deepened and she instantly felt warm all over. Never had just looking someone in the eye made her heart pound like that.
His chest looked a little broader on top than Dev's was, so the thin cotton shirt hugged to his body, fitting snug across the shoulders and upper arms. His hair was pulled back from his chiseled features, drawing attention to the squareness of his jaw, the firm yet stubborn set of his lips, the chocolate pools of his deep-set eyes.
Sam wished he'd smile at her. She realized that though his lips did curl slightly, and his eyes lit with what could be called amusement, she'd never actually seen him grin --not that he had anything to be happy about. The sense of guilt she'd felt all day intensified. None of this was fair to him. He hadn't done anything--which she knew of--to deserve being imprisoned.
"I missed you today," Falke said, his voice soft.
Sam blinked in surprise at the admission. Her eyes narrowed. "You don't know me. How could you miss me?"
"You're something to do."
Sam took a deep breath. Instantly, her stomach tightened radiating the sensation all the way down her thighs. She felt herself tingle, becoming wet. Purposefully misunderstanding the innuendo, she said, "You had Dev to check on you."
"He's not beautiful. I don't like looking at him." Though his words were low and intimate, his face was hard and unmoving. "Neither are those little cleaning units that come out when you leave."
Sam panted lightly, hating herself for feeling pleasure at his compliments. Sure, men had complimented her before. Hell, some had even tried to buy her from her crew. With a few simple words, Falke did something they never had. He managed to make her actually feel beautiful and desired.
"You're just saying that to be polite," Sam dismissed, uncomfortable, as she absently waved her hand. She noticed that a blanket and pillow was now in the cage, though he didn't use them. It really seemed wrong, making him sleep on the floor, especially since there was a perfectly good couch behind him.
"Polite? To my captor?" Falke chuckled softly.
"Yeah, I see your point." Sam did her best not to look at him. Realizing she was just standing there, looking clueless, she moved toward the bathroom to change for the night.
"Don't go."
When she glanced back, he'd moved from his spot, crouching forward. His hand had reached out, as if he could touch her and stop her. He withdrew it back, but not before she saw the gesture.
"Are you trying to negotiate with me?" Sam asked. "Is that what this is about? You think if you lie and flatter me to death I'll ... what? Change my mind? Take it back? I can't take it back, though believe me, I wish I could."
Falke didn't answer. She could practically see his whole body stiffen. He moved back to his place by the bars and stared straight ahead.
Sam pulled open a dresser and grabbed a pair of light blue cotton slacks and a white shirt before moving to change. As the door to the bathroom slid shut behind her, she let loose a long breath. Her hands shook and her knees were definitely weak. She'd hoped that since he was dressed and since she had her mind back from the rum incident that he wouldn't affect her. It was quite the opposite. Now that her senses weren't dulled, she wanted him more. Her body practically throbbed with need for him. Never had she reacted with such violent force. She wasn't sure she liked it.
Sam swallowed and forced herself to undress. Going to the decontaminator, she used it as an excuse to delay going back out into her quarters. The warm lasers hit her flesh and she trembled. Blessed Stars! They only seemed to increase the blood flowing beneath her skin. Her nerves prickled, begging to be touched.
Sam glanced at the door. Dare she? She couldn't seem to stop herself, as she lifted a finger to her erect nipple. A wave of pleasure coursed through her and she nearly fell over onto the floor.
"Oh--ha," she breathed. That had never happened before.
Her hands had minds of their own as they glided down her flesh. She cupped her breasts, massaging the tips. They practically tingled to life. Even as she pleasured herself, she knew this wasn't a good sign. She'd enjoyed men before, not many, but some. Her Ticara father had always told her that one day her body would awaken to her soul mate. That God-like creature definitely wasn't a soul mate. But, here she was, nearly helpless as she reached to touch her swollen folds.
Sam refused to believe in soul mates or fate. She believed in making her own destiny. It was why she had left her father's people and continued to stay away, though he'd tried to call her back to him. Her father seemed to think he could pick her soul mate out for her--in fact, he already had.
Sam's hand stroked faster, making her forget everything but Prince Falke. She thought of his lips kissing her, his serious eyes watching her, his warm breath along her skin, his hands against her body--stroking, kneading, pinching. Her hands didn't feel like enough, but she couldn't stop. Suddenly, she jerked, climaxing in spiraling waves. She panted, arms weakly set against the decontaminator's walls. The lasers kicked on, moving over her body to clean the light sheen of sweat from her skin. She'd barely remembered them turning off.
Her eyes moved to the door, trying to remember if she'd been loud. A blush stained her cheeks. What had see been thinking? There was a man outside her room! Quickly grabbing her clothes, she tugged them on, doing her best not to look flustered.
Outside the bathroom, Falke watched the door intently. He hadn't meant to say those words out loud, though they were true. He had missed her during the day. Each time the door slid open, he'd hoped it was her. It hadn't been. Instead, Dev came to him--giving him food, allowing him to take care of his personal needs. He'd even given him a handheld sanitizer so he could clean himself off. The two of them shared a grudging respect for the other, though they didn't speak. It was a silent understanding between two men used to conflict and war.
Don't go. Had he really begged her to stay with him? When he had seen her turn, the thought had just slipped past his lips.
She'd been in the bathroom for a while when he saw the faint glow of a green light under the door. He leaned forward, sniffing. A sugary fragrance filled his head--sweet, tempting, mouthwatering. His whole body stiffened. He felt his gut clench. She was pleasuring herself.
Concentrating, his ears picked up the faint, ragged pants of her breath beneath the hum of lasers. The humming stopped and the panting became louder. It was pure torture. He heard her whimper, ever so light. Closing his eyes, he could imagine her biting her full bottom lip, trying to keep from moaning too loud. The smell of her grew stronger. Falke's nerve endings lurched with need. Instantly, he was aroused, his member thick and aching for release.
Falke was so focused on her that he could feel the moment she began to climax. Irrationally, anger built in him. She'd deny him only to do it herself? He wasn't one to brag, but he definitely knew what he was doing in the sex department. The only complaint he'd ever had was that he could go too many times and that the women had gotten worn out--in a good way.
This was one of the reasons Falke didn't think he'd ever mate to one woman. If he did, he'd want to be faithful to her. He didn't think he could inflict his appetites onto one woman. He thought of his father. King Attor had never lifemated himself. He'd taken many wives, collecting hundreds of them into his harem. Attor's words of wisdom filled his head.
"To be ruled by a woman is to be ruled by weakness, and kingdoms are only as strong as their rulers. It's a good thing you lack all emotion, Falke. It makes you a great Commander. I know I'll never have to worry about your heart being lost to a woman, not like I do your half-human brothers."
Falke tried to stiffen his resolve against his slender captor. He'd been fifteen when his father had first told him that--a young boy bent on pleasing a man who would never really be pleased. Over the years, Attor had repeated the same sentiment, praising Falke for his emotionless cunning and ability to perform any task he must.
It wasn't that Falke didn't feel, but that he never allowed it to show. He agreed that emotion only got in the way of strategic planning. Emotion got warriors killed. Emotion was messy, irrational, reckless.
Taura, his mother, was stoic by nature, as was the way of her people, the Roane. She was tough, brave, and strong. In her own way, Falke knew she'd loved his father. She'd wanted to be burned by his side when he died. Kirill had denied her request. Taura chose Attor, despite all his wives and his shortcomings, and came to be his first mistress claimed above all other half-mates.
His eyes lifted to the door as it opened. He held onto the thought. After eighty-two years, it wasn't as easy as it should've been to push his desires aside and concentrate.
Violet eyes found his. Her face was flushed with a soft glow and her body wasn't as tense. Falke snorted quietly to himself. He really wished he could say the same thing for himself. He felt like he had poison in his gut, the way it clenched.
She stared him directly in the eyes, almost too directly. Sam walked across the room, pretending nonchalance as she went toward the couch. He hid his smile. She didn't think he knew. Unable to help himself, he asked, "Enjoy yourself?"
Sam froze, turning to him. Her eyes rounded slightly. "Wha ... what do you mean?"
"The bath," Falke supplied. When she stayed pale and unmoving, he added, "I was just thinking how I wished I could take a bath."
"Oh, well ... yeah, that," she mumbled. Then, he detected her whisper, "You're talking about that."
Sam continued onto the couch and couldn't help the embarrassment that threatened to turn her cheeks a bright red. Gathering three pillows in her arms, she moved back to him. "Here, you might want these."
She kept her distance, passing one forward so he could reach it through the bars. He took it and tossed it aside. She lifted the second one.
"I don't think I've actually said I'm sorry for this whole thing," Sam began. He reached for the second pillow and his finger darted out to brush against her hand. She felt his touch, like fire through her limbs. Her body lurched back to life. Without thinking, she took a step closer and lifted the third pillow as he tossed the second behind him. His dark piercing eyes never left hers.
Falke reached forward. At the last second, he grabbed her wrist instead of the pillow. Sam gasped as she was tugged forward. The pillow dropped forgotten to the ground.
Her body met with the odd combination of cool metal bars and warm flesh. As her breast pressed against both at once, she wasn't sure which was harder. Instantly, she became damp with need, growing dizzy from his nearness. He smelled good, fresh, masculine. He held her wrist up near his shoulder. His fingers wrapped around her rampant pulse.
Before she could think to react his free hand snaked around her waist and pulled her forward. She gasped, feeling the unmistakable form of his arousal between them. His fingers pressed along the small of her back, as he took advantage of her parted lips and kissed her between the bars.
Sam felt his hand leave her waist, but she didn't pull back. His tongue darted into her mouth, parting her lips wider with gentle insistence. She couldn't think, couldn't move beyond the pressure of his mouth, the mesmerizing warmth of his tongue gliding against hers. A weak, wholly feminine moan left her throat. His rhythm turned from exploring to conquering. His grip on her wrist tightened and his hand reached around to cup a soft round cheek. He squeezed her butt only to glide his fingers down the back of her thigh, lifting her leg up between the bars so he could press his erection more fully to her center heat.
Sam felt the massive size of him to her hips and stiffened in fear, recalling how large he looked naked. She made a weak noise, tearing her mouth from his. Her body wanted to stay, but her mind took over once more.
"No," she gasped. "No."
"Yes," he growled in answer, grinding his hips to hers in a slow, rocking rhythm.
"Mmm, no, please," she panted. She was too weak to pull away.
"Are you worried about my size? I know how to wield my weapon, my lady, I will not hurt you," Falke said. His eyes were liquid pools of desire. "You have my word. Free me so that I may prove it to you."
"No," was all she managed to get out.
"Very well," he answered. His tone lowered, sending chills over her flesh. "As you wish."
Sam opened her mouth, ready to kiss him again when something sharp poked her in a butt cheek. She struggled against the sting, trying to push back off of him. She managed to untangle her leg from the bars, but couldn't free her wrist. When he drew his hand back, he held the three darts she'd shot him with.
"What did you do?" she breathed, beginning to feel faint.
"If there is one thing I know, dear Captain, its weaponry," Falke stated. "It has been my life's work. My father saw to it that I was well versed in many alien battle techniques and weaponry. These darts don't inject all their poison the first time. It's so they can be reused."
Sam's vision blurred. Blackness called to her and she had no choice but to fall into it. Her body dropped, falling limp and only kept somewhat upright by Falke's hold on her wrist.
Falke let loose the breath he held. His body was on fire for her and when she had responded so sweetly to his kiss he'd nearly forgotten his plan. As the darts had imbedded into her flesh, he almost felt sorry for what he was doing--almost. Dropping the darts, he reached forward and scooped her up. Letting go of her wrist, he pulled her close. Her smell was intoxicating and he couldn't stop himself from taking a deep breath of her shorter purple streaked locks.
It was awkward, but he managed to work her around the side to the front of the cage. Then, once there, he placed her hand on the scanner. The door to the cage clicked open. Falke grinned. He was free.
Sam's mind floated in a cocoon of dark warmth. It was all around her, holding her, keeping her safe. She sighed in contentment, not wanting to leave it. Slowly, her lashes fluttered over her eyes. Her dresser came into view. By the darker lighting in the room, she knew that it was technically night for them. Being in a spaceship, life was lived more in orderly timed shifts rather than by the patterns of sunlight moving over the planet. Without gentle reminders, it was too easy to sleep too long or stay awake too many hours. That's when space madness stepped in.
She was awake now, but the warmth was still with her. No, it was more like heat, solid heat, and it was at her back. Sam stiffened. Someone lay behind her on the bed, a massive arm flung over her naked waist.
Naked? Oh, no! Blessed Stars, no! She was completely naked! And if that wasn't bad enough, she wasn't the only one.
Prince Falke? She thought, trying to remember. His smell engulfed her. Heat covered her face as she recalled his kiss. It had felt so good. And his taste? It was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Besides, by the girth of the half erect rod pressing into her back, it could only be him.
Knowing that it was his naked body next to hers, her blood stirred. Why was he naked in her bed? She felt her body for violation, but wasn't the least bit sore--well, except for a dull ache in one of her butt cheeks.
"You darted me?" Sam asked, incredulously pushing up in anger. His hand slid lower over her hip, but still held her close. "You actually darted me in the ass?"
There was a light moan and she watched Falke open his eyes. A light, victorious smile crossed over his sleepy features and he yawned. "This bed is so much more comfortable than the cage. Come here, briallen, go back to sleep."
"But, you darted me in the ass!" Sam said, still groggily stuck on that one thought. He darted her and now he was in her bed?
"Would you like me to kiss it better?" Falke asked, chuckling softly. "Come on, lay down. I was comfortable and so were you. At least by the way you purr and cuddle in your sleep, I'm pretty sure you were comfortable against me."
"Am I missing something? Like say ... I don't know, a week or two? Who in the hell do you think you are, coming into my bed?" Sam wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him or climb on top of him. Just the idea of leaning over and straddling his hips made a jolt of hot desire dampen her thighs. She became aware of her body and where it touched his. His smell was all around her, dominating her senses. He seemed to radiate heat, hot liquid fire that jumped out at her and consumed her sanity.
"Mmmm," Falke hummed, a drowsily seductive sound. He looked more awake now and she saw his nostrils flare. "Why didn't you just say you wanted me? I'd miss a week's worth of sleep for that."
Sam couldn't utter a sound to save her life. She tried to sniff herself without being obvious. All she could smell was him.
Falke's strong hand glided up from her waist to cup her breasts. Since she was already naked, his hand moved easily in long strokes. Sam moaned softly. It'd been so long since she'd been touched intimately, aside from her own hand, which didn't really count. He lightly traced her collarbone, moving in lazy haphazard patterns over her skin. The same light torture rolled around her nipples, as he refused to touch the centers.
"You're so delicate," Falke moaned in approval. "Like a flower petal."
Sam was pretty sure that was either the strangest or the nicest thing anyone had ever told her. She didn't have time to analyze as he moved his light caress along the bottom edge of her breasts. Her stomach tensed. Her body was wet with anticipation as his fingers crept to her navel, dipping along her hips.
"You smell so sweet," Falke groaned. "I want to bury my face in you."
His fingers glanced over the thin strip of hair guarding her opening. He touched the outer edges, but didn't move any closer. His fingers danced along the crease joining her inner thigh to her hips.
"Ahh, you enjoy that," Falke said, feeling her tense and jerk. "Your body is so sensitive to the touch. I like that. I like that you respond to me."
Sam's mouth was dry, as was her throat. His finger skimmed her thighs again, and again her body jerked with pleasure. She couldn't control it, though she did try to push all feeling from her body.
"Come, lay back down." Falke's body shifted and she felt him drawing closer. "Let me explore better."
Sam had no idea why her body obeyed the command. She studied his handsome face in the very dim light. His jaw was strong, proud. She thought to make out the outline of it. It seemed her eyes had already memorized the look of him, because she could almost imagine his features perfectly, down to every angle. Lying on the mattress, she rested on her side, facing him.
Falke rolled. His knee nudged forward and she soon found a large thigh propped between her legs, pressing up at her wet slit. Sam panicked, stiffening her legs and clamping them down tight to push him away. He didn't move, save for the gentle rocking of his thigh up into her.
His hands spanned the whole breadth of her stomach as he pushed his palm flat against her. He pushed up, covering her throat in his grasp before moving to cup her jaw. Turning her face toward him, he licked her mouth. His tongue dragged across the seam, pressing deeper with each slow pass. Her eyes closed, as pleasant sensations flooded her.
"You don't move," he observed against her lips, his voice husky. "You have no desire to touch me?"
"You're very big," she whispered, almost breathless.
"Yes," he answered, kissing the corner of her lips. His tongue dragged across her again. "I am and you're so small and delicate. I promise not to give your body any more than it can take, but I need to be buried inside you."
"How can I trust you? I don't even know you," Sam whispered, knowing just how insane this really was.
"I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you," he admitted.
"So you just take whatever you want?" Sam was partly teasing. He felt so good. She didn't want him to stop.
"Yes, I take, but I also give," Falke answered. "I want to conquer you, my lady."
"My name's Samantha," Sam whispered.
"I know, Samantha. Sam." Falke chuckled. Her name was heaven on his lips. His hand brushed back a lock of her hair, pushing it off her forehead. Then, growling with dominance, he declared hoarsely, "I want to conquer you, Samantha."
What could a girl possibly say to that? A weak moan sounded in the back of her throat. Falke's weight shifted as he pushed up. His thigh between her legs pressed lightly, maneuvering her hips around so she was on her back. The hot length of his arousal fell against her tender stomach.
"Touch me," he groaned, the words stuck between a plea and a command.
Sam's hands lifted to his shoulders. They shook terribly. She liked the heated texture of him, the bumpy slide of his large muscles. Exploring his neck and chest, she budded his nipples with slow circles. The more she touched him, the more she wanted to keep touching him. Her body hummed, swirling with passion--so much more than in the shower earlier. This was so much more vivid, more real, more ... Falke.
His mouth clamped down on hers, stealing her breath in his deep kiss before moving down her jaw. When he reached her ear, he rimmed it with his tongue, before whispering, "I want to make you come with my mouth. I want to taste it."
Sam whimpered and she swore she felt his cheek shift. He was grinning. Experience-wise she was out of her element. She knew that. She knew she should tell him to stop. Her hands faltered as she over thought her actions. Was she touching him right? Was she pleasing him? The way his mouth moved, the confidence in which he spoke said he was well practiced in the bedroom.
His mouth traveled the path his light fingers had made earlier. He licked and teased her nipples, before sucking a large amount between his lips. While the globe was trapped to his mouth, he swirled the nipple with his hot tongue. Sam bucked, sure she'd never felt anything quite like it. If she'd been asked two days ago about her breasts, she would've said they weren't sensitive at all.
Pure instinct, raw and primal took over. Her hands delved into his hair, running through the silky length. She pushed his head down, wanting to feel his kisses against her most sensitive of flesh. Falke chuckled, the vibration rumbling over her.
"Falke," she panted and moaned. Her legs worked restlessly.
Falke paused in his task, listening to his name on her lips. Pleasure, warm and sweet, flooded him at the sound. Desire was in her voice, desire and need and acceptance. He drew his hands down over her silky legs. Sacred Cats! She was soft. His shaft throbbed, but he held back from finding his own release. He sensed her nervous fear and knew in that moment that he'd never be able to hurt her. He would make her scream with pleasure, loosen her up to trust and accept him.
He jerked her thighs apart and angled his body to hers. He felt her tense and nuzzled his lips along her inner thigh. Falke couldn't hold back. He needed to taste her. Leaning down, he latched his mouth around her sensitive flesh, parting the folds with his tongue. His body surged with life, as he drank of her sexual energy. The cream of her body filled him and he moaned.
"Ah, Falke," she cried. Her stomach contracted and she tried to sit up. He growled possessively and pinned her hips to his mouth.
Sam tensed. Her legs dangled over his strong shoulders. She felt the end coming and mindlessly rocked her hips to him, trying to reach it. Her hands buried in his hair. His mouth worked faster, sucking her swollen nub. She felt his tongue dip deep inside her before being replaced by a thick finger. Soon one finger became two and he thrust his hand, deeply stroking her. It had been so long and he did it just right. Her passage was stretched wider and she knew he'd slipped in a third finger. Her muscles contracted against his hand and mouth. He moaned, encouraging her on.
Sam cried out as the most intense orgasm in her life racked through her. She'd never felt so alive before. He knew just how to do it, how hard to suck, how much pressure to use, where to use it.
"Falke," she panted, over and over again. When he'd milked the last tremor from her, he pulled away. "Falke, oh yes, Falke."
"Tell me you want me," he demanded, pulling up to kiss her breathless, which wasn't hard considering. When she was dizzy, her own body's taste on her lips, she nodded.
"I want you," she repeated, beyond rationale. She pushed on his chest, and he let her knock him back on his knees. Sam let her hand glide down his stomach. Her wide violet eyes glanced up at him. She could see the strong silhouette of his face. Her hand moved down, touching the large stiff mass between his legs. His breath caught and she couldn't stop herself from running her hand over the full length of him.
Falke leaned further back, giving her complete access to him. His hand pressed behind him to hold up his weight. His Var eyes saw her perfectly in the dark, every detail. Sam leaned down and he was sure her lush, parted lips wrapping around his thick shaft was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. She made little noises as she rolled her tongue over his tip, sucking him gently.
Her hands caressed the extra length and began pulling and pushing him in agonizingly slow strokes. Her tongue flicked his tip, her teeth scraped lightly over the sides. It was all too much--the look of her naked body, the taste of her recent climax, the feel of her warm lips. Falke groaned loud with pleasure. He expected her to pull back as his hips jerked, but she stayed fastened on him. Weakly, he tried to push her shoulder, a silent warning that he was close. She growled possessively and it was more than he could take. Falke groaned, arching back. He released the pent up frustrations of his body, spurting his hot seed into her mouth.
Sam moaned, sucking harder, swallowing the salty-sweet taste of him. She didn't stop to think, just acted. Her mind chanted that she wanted him, all of him. His low animalistic grunts still sounded over her and she felt giddy with power, knowing she controlled the giant of a man before her.
She pulled back, panting for breath. Her heart hammered beneath her breast, trying to break free. Her eyes found him, his chest rose and fell, keeping frantic time with hers. Then, it hit her--what she'd done, how she'd acted. A low growl started in the back of his throat as he pushed forward, moving to crawl over her.
Sam panicked. Her jaw was a little sore from taking him in too deep, but there was more. Her back was stiff, aching painfully as it never had before. It wasn't just his size that frightened her, it was the man himself. A strange feeling came over her skin, making her dizzy and weak. She leapt from the bed, intent on fleeing to the bathroom.
Falke's hand darted on a reflex, catching her about the waist and flinging her back toward the bed. He caught her with his arm, cradling her body gently to his chest. "What is it? I didn't hurt you."
Sam shivered, feeling very cold, contrasting his desert heat. He lifted a blanket around her, holding her tight. His arms massaged up and down her length, trying to give her warmth.
"You're so cold," he whispered. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"I don't know," she whispered. Her eyes dipped to the side, unable to meet his piercing gaze. That wasn't true. She did know--or at least suspected. She was half Ticara. She'd somehow evoked that hidden part of herself, the part she'd been able to suppress for so long, and it came flooding into her full force. Her stomach tightened. She was sore all over. "How do you feel?"
"What? Great. I have no regrets if that's what you mean," he said, almost urgently. Falke frowned. He was worried. Her skin paled, turning almost blue. "Is this because you have regrets?"
"How do you feel physically?" she insisted, her teeth chattering.
"Better than I have in days, months," he answered.
"That's what I was afraid of," she whispered. "I just need to get warm. I'll be fine after I get some sleep."
Falke stayed awake as long as he could, watching over the woman next to him. All the aches and pains had suddenly disappeared. He felt alive, healthy, and strong. It was as if he could conquer the whole world, as if he could make love to the woman in his arms ninety times. He'd tried to go get her crew for help, she told him not to. He'd tried to get her to call her personal medic thing, she'd not done that either. He'd even tried to call it himself to no avail. The ship's computer didn't answer him. Sam had chuckled at that--a weak sound, but a sound nonetheless.
When he could think of nothing else, he did the only thing he could. He held her to the crook of his body and willed his heat to go to her. After a couple hours, her skin flushed with a rosy hue and her body warmed. She seemed to relax against his hold, cuddling her back along the length of him.
Falke watched her as she slept. His fingers slipped through the silky strands of her hair, and he looked at the purple in utter fascination of the color. He liked the way her body fit into the hard curve of his, soft and yielding, almost like she trusted him to protect her. The strangest thing was he felt compelled to protect her. His body still wanted her, ached for her touch, but for once he didn't feel the urgent need to copulate again and again. Just that one time left him feeling more sated than he'd ever been in his life.
Falke pulled her closer to him, allowing his arm to rest over her stomach and up beside her breasts. He felt her heart beating steadily against his palm as his fingers moved to cup her. Finally convincing himself that she was all right, Falke closed his eyes and drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Sam woke feeling much better. She blinked. Her back was still a little sore, but was going away. It had taken a lot of energy to heal herself this time. Glancing over at Falke, she let loose a shaky breath. He was asleep on his back. The hand closest to her rested possessively on her hip.
The Var Prince was beautiful, so stunningly handsome. His lips were parted, drawing breath. His dark hair spilled over the silver sheets. She felt the hand on her hip twitch slightly in a little caress. Sliding out from beneath him, she stood naked by the bed.
What had she done? What was she thinking? He was a stranger, a man she had kidnapped by mistake. And, not only that, he was royalty. How could she have been so foolish? Sam sighed. It was clear she'd have no willpower when it came to the Var captive. Already she felt her body stirring to life. Her lips tingled, wanting to wake him up with her kisses. She felt chilled removed from his warmth, though not so cold as the night before.
"Oh," she breathed. This wasn't good. She was afraid that she'd have to stop and see her father now. Sam didn't want to. She didn't want to go back. Feeling her hands tremble, she looked at them. She really had no choice.
I just have to stay away from you until we get there, she thought desperately.
Looking up at the manacles on the bed, she crept forward and grabbed one. She lifted the heavy weight and set it on the bed. It was a good thing he was on his back, or else she'd not be able to reach him. She moved the shackle around his wrist and clicked it shut. Red lights ran up the cuff indicating it was locked. Then, going to the other side, she did the same thing. Falke moaned but didn't wake up.
Hurrying to her dresser, Sam grabbed a dark jumpsuit and slid it on. The tight material formed to her body, outlining it. Feeling somehow self-conscious, she slipped a baggier shirt over the top of it. Then going to the vanity, she saw that her hair was sticking up at odd angles from sleep.
Pressing a hidden button along the edge of the mirror, she watched as hair style options were laid out before her. She scanned them quickly -- short all crimson red, waist length brown and silver, pulled back, pulled up. The options really were endless. Impulsively, she pressed a button. She couldn't go really long. That took awhile since her hair was of a medium length. The ceiling opened and a headpiece fitted over her. Her scalp tingled and seconds later her straightened hair was smooth, shoulder length blonde, with an unnatural red streak along the side.
Sam hit the button, turning the mirror off. She glanced at the bed. Falke still slept. She knew that he'd be especially tired after last night. If not for that, she had a feeling she'd never been able to bind him without waking him first.
"It's better for both of us this way," Sam whispered, so soft she wasn't sure if her lips just moved or if she truly spoke. Then, placing her hand on the wall, she watched the door slide open and stepped out into the hall.
"Yo, hey, look. She's got red on today. Something's wrong," Lucien said, his eyes lifting from his breakfast to look at Sam. Instantly, all eyes of her crew turned to her--except for Rick's who wasn't there.
"What is it?" Evan asked.
"It's nothing," Sam said, giving a strange look. Evan concentrated on her and knew he was trying to pick up something.
"You're lying," he said carefully. "You're trying to hide something.
"Stop doing that, Evan," she hissed. "Stay out of my head."
"Sam, we're your family. You can tell us," Viktor said.
Then, to everyone's surprise, the usually quiet Dev stated, "Leave her be."
Sam's violet eyes flew to him and he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. Dev knew! She could see it in his stoic face. He knew what she'd done.
"No, Sam, come on," Evan said. "You can trust us."
"I know I can trust you guys," she mumbled. She sat down. Viktor offered to get her food and she shook her head in denial.
"We'd never judge you," Lucien added.
"I know," Sam said.
"Well then?" Evan asked.
"I might have taken Viktor and Rick's advice about the Prince," she answered, her voice low and her cheeks coloring. She knew they'd keep prying until they found out something. She just hoped they'd be content with that much and not look any deeper.
All eyes turned to Viktor in question. A big grin spread over his features and he nodded his head in an obnoxiously cocky way, stating, "Oh, yeah, that's what I'm talking about."
"What?" Lucien and Evan demanded at once.
"Our Captain here got herself laid last night," Viktor stated, still nodding in swaggering male approval.
"What?" Rick's voice came from the door. She could practically hear the grin in his voice. "You finally blow out the old cobwebs, Cap?"
"Gross, Rick," she mumbled, but everyone else started laughing and she couldn't help but smile. These guys really were her family. They'd been there for her when no one else cared. And she'd been there for them when they'd needed her the most.
"Ah, you know what I mean," Rick answered lightly. He came over and tousled her sleek hair style. Stopping, he said, "Uh-oh, red. What's wrong? He not any good?"
"I felt like red," Sam defended.
"The last time you picked red was after you found out your father wanted you to sign a betrothal agreement," Evan stated.
"The time before that, I recall it was a Tuesday," Viktor added. Sam scrunched up her face. "The Tuesday."
Oh, yeah, she'd missed the sacred Ticara coronation dinner. None of them were allowed to mention it, but it'd happened on a Tuesday so that's what they called it. "Oh, yeah, I forgot."
"So, red huh, what's up today?" Evan demanded.
"You know, the problem with deep space travel is that you don't get any privacy from the rest of the crew," Sam grumbled. She felt Rick moved behind her. Suddenly, Viktor and Lucien stood up.
"All right, Captain, have it your way," Evan said, standing as well.
Sam sighed. They were going to leave her alone about things for once. Dev stood and moved toward the door. She sighed again. Bless the stars, they were going to give her privacy. She leaned her head down on the tabletop.
"We'll just have to go ask the Var Prince for ourselves," Evan announced.
Sam's head shot up in horror to the sound of footfall running away from her. She jumped to her feet, knocking her knee into the table. "Ow! Damn it! Guys get back here! Don't you dare go into my room! I'm warning you!"
Sam swore she heard one of them laughing at her. Limping and running at the same time, she tried to stop them. She was too late. By the time she caught up to them, they were already making their way through her door.
"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!" Rick exclaimed.
Sam grimaced, not needing to understand the strange phrase to get the general idea of it. It was official. She was going to take away all of Rick's twenty-first century Earth memorabilia.
Sam hesitated before following them inside. Her eyes were on the floor and she could feel Falke's glare before she saw it. Looking up, she saw his dark eyes. They pierced her with his anger. His hands were still bound, locked tight. Thankfully, the silver sheets were draped over his waist and only his naked torso showed. Just seeing him made her body quiver with the desire to go to him. The pull was strong and it took every last bit of her concentration to resist.
"We had no idea," Viktor whispered, "that you were into this stuff."
"Come on, guys, get out of here," she mumbled, gently pushing Evan to the door. He stumbled, his brown eyes finding her. If she didn't know better he looked a little hurt. "Come on, I said go."
She grabbed Rick and Viktor both by the arms and pulled. They too stumbled, Rick grinning like a fool and nodding his head in approval. Sam rolled her eyes at him and gave him a harder shove. The men filtered out of the room and she made the cowardly move to follow them.
"Captain," Falke's hard voice stopped her. "May I have a moment of your time?"
Sam trembled. She waited for the door to slide shut before turning around to him. "Yes?"
"Care to explain?" Falke asked, lifting his shackled wrists for her examination. He jiggled the chains slightly for effect.
"Ah, not really?" Sam tried to force a smile, but the effort was transparent and weak.
"Oh, Captain, I must insist you explain," Falke asserted.
Sam's mouth automatically opened to answer and she stopped herself. Hey, wait a minute. He was the one on the bed. He didn't have the authority to order her around! She was in charge here. She was the sort of Captain--well, yeah, okay. She was Captain.
"Insist all you like," Sam said. "You're in no position to be giving me orders."
And, with that, Sam turned triumphantly to leave.
Falke growled, really having hoped she'd have a good explanation for trapping him on the bed--like maybe a sexual game of dominance. That he could have easily forgiven. In fact, that he would've enjoyed. His muscles flexed, pulling hard against his binds.
Sam's body froze and she whirled around to look at him from her place in the open door. Her wide violet eyes dilated in fear. Falke's nostrils flared and his body alighted with the idea of a hunt. It wasn't wise for her to make him angry like this, to challenge him. The natural Var hunter, coupled by his body's hot desire to impale her on him, was a powerful combination.
The manacles stayed on his wrists, but the metal links broke from the wall and he was free. With the chains dragging behind him, he leapt off the bed. He saw Sam's face pale the second before she turned to run from him.
Falke was naked, but that didn't stop him from storming out of the bedroom after her. He stopped, sniffing the air. His eyes shifted with blue as he picked up the sugary fragrance of her body. His heart thundered in his chest, sounding primal in his ears. His shaft filled with blood, stiff and pulsing with need.
The sound of metal dragging along metal followed him as he moved down the long steel corridor. He was breathing hard, concentrating on tracking her. It wouldn't be difficult. They were on a ship after all and there wouldn't be too many places she could run and hide. Unless she ejected herself out into space in a pod, he'd find her.
By All That Is Sacred, he swore silently. If she did eject, he'd still find her.
Luckily for Falke, he didn't have to hunt long. He tracked her scent to a shut door labeled, TRAINING, and placed his palm on the sensor to open it. He was glad the ship's doors weren't encoded to specific handprints.
Stepping inside the door, he frowned. What he saw couldn't possibly have been on the ship. Stretched out before him was what looked like a tall mountain, much higher than the ship itself could've been. He stepped forward, feeling the unmistakable brush of long grass against his legs. A bird whistled and he heard a splash to his right. Turning, he saw the door disappear. He ran Running[?] to it and felt his hand hit a solid wall. Though his eyes swore the landscape stretched further. When he ran his hand over the ship's side, it felt smooth, whether it looked like he touched a tree or thin air.
"Amazing," Falke whispered. Then, getting a faint scent of perfume muted by the smell of nature, he turned. On instinct, he shifted, letting his body ripple with white and black fur. He didn't stop to think, enjoying her unintentional game of being hunted too much to care if she found out what he was.
The shackles dropped from his wrists and he stepped his paws out of them. His eyes melted from brown to blue, becoming bright and powerful. His senses enhanced, he crouched low to the ground and crept forward, stalking his prey.
A low rumble started in his chest, a subtle sound, nearing a growl but not quite. His paws were silent as he moved. He felt extraordinary and he was definitely having fun. His limbs were no longer stiff and sore. It was as if the incident with Lord Myrddin had never occurred.
It didn't take him long to find Sam. She was huddled in a corner, by the base of a tree. She looked frightened, and he purposefully let the sound in the back of his throat rise a notch. Her wide eyes flew to him. He could practically hear her heart pounding. His eyes detected the reedy pulse at her slender neck. Sacred Cats! She was beautiful to behold.
"Computer, end predator program," she whispered, not looking at him for very long and not pulling away like he thought she might.
Falke growled again.
"Damn it, computer!" Sam hissed, only slightly louder. "I said end predator program now!"
Falke crept forward and this time when she looked at him she appeared to grow concerned by his presence. His legs braced and his head lowered. With a leap, he pounced through the air to lightly knock her onto her back.
Mid leap, she cried, "Computer! Freeze program!"
Everything froze, except for Falke, as his paws pressed against her softer flesh. He kept his claws from hurting her as his weight pinned her down. This time, he smelled her fear and stopped, feeling guilty for playing with her. He'd thought to teach her a lesson about trying to trap him, but as he saw her wide violet eyes frozen on him and her body braced for an attack, he couldn't continue.
His back legs held most his weight and he moved his front paws to the ground to keep from bruising her shoulders. She flinched as his head lowered near her. He let his face rub along hers, letting his fur tickle her neck and cheek.
"Ahh," Sam panted at the contact. He felt her trembling fingers on his shoulders. Her voice laced with awe, and remnants of fear, she whispered, "Ah--hh, Falke. Why didn't you just tell me you were a shifter? I thought I'd imagined you like this."
Her chest rose and fell beneath him, raggedly shaking with her panted breath. Letting his face caress hers again, he urged his body to human form once more. His naked form fitted intimately against hers and he pulled back on his elbows.
"You know me," he stated.
Sam stared up from her place on the ground. Yes, she knew him as sure as she knew herself. She'd felt it was him the moment he touched her. His dark eyes no longer looked angry with her. Relief flooded her, loosening the knots in her stomach.
"Make it come back," he said, glancing to a still blade of grass.
"Computer, run program." The grass moved as the breeze stirred. Even the gentle call of the birds began anew. The computer didn't answer her in the VR room like it did on the rest of the ship.
Sam felt the full length of him settle comfortingly along her frame, except for the stab of his hard arousal between them. Knowing that he was already naked and ready for her didn't help her regain control over her raging emotions. Damn him! Why did he have to break through those chains?
Sam's body was heated, calling out to him for more. She desperately wanted to finish what they'd started in her bed. At the same time, she knew they shouldn't.
"You changed your hair," Falke said softly. She felt his fingers weaving in her locks. Her scalp tingled at the simple caress. Her lids fell heavily over her eyes. "It's an interesting color."
"Thanks," she whispered, taking in the fine look of his face. He wasn't smiling, but despite the fact that his face was stoic, she had the impression that he wanted to be there with her.
"Are you well?" he asked, dropping her hair and shifting his waist so he was pressed more comfortably into her hip.
Sam thought of lying. She knew she should tell him no, that she was sick and he should leave her be. Her mouth opened, and she answered, "Yes."
Falke's mouth curled into a small smile. As if he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. His eyes stayed on her, gauging her reaction to him.
"I want you," he whispered against her lips, very serious and not at all embarrassed by his admission. Sam blushed. "I want to be inside you."
To prove his point, he expertly rotated his hips against her, sending a jolt through her system. Her breasts responded with the same sensitive tingling as before. Sam tried to draw her chest in, but he smiled and glanced down. She knew he felt her nipples harden against his chest, stabbing into him.
He lifted up, moving to take his finger and draw it along her baggy shirt. She never saw his claw, but felt the material of both the shirt and jumpsuit fall apart. Cool air hit her flesh. Around them it smelled fresh, natural. She loved the VR room for that reason. Virtual Reality, the next best thing to actually being there. It had originally been designed for training exercises until Sam had Viktor take the violence out of some of the programs.
Falke's dark hair was bathed with warm sunlight. It felt real--the cool summer breeze, the soft bed of grass, the man on top of her with the bedroom eyes. How could she resist him?
"They want to be kissed," he whispered. His hot mouth covered her nipple. Her body heaved in pleasure. As his lips distracted her with their delightfully sinful movements on her chest, his fingers managed to slice through the rest of her jumpsuit. His hand dipped along her side, running over her waist and hip. His voice a hoarse growl, he said, "Mmm, beautiful."
Her hands moved into his hair, surprised by how gentle his touch was. She explored him, learning every curve of his muscular chest, his defined back. Hot, wet kisses trailed from her breasts down her flat stomach. She felt his tongue licking in between the movements of his lips.
The torn jumpsuit still clung to her arms and legs, but neither of them cared. His strong hands gripped her thighs, pulling her body up so he could drink from her moist folds. She was already wet for him, but as his lips moved in perfect strokes, she bucked up and rewarded him with the flow of more cream.
Her feet stirred restlessly in the grass, digging and curling in pleasure as her thigh moved over his naked waist. Falke lifted himself up, pulling his body once more to lie on top of hers. He kissed her then--long and sweet, letting her taste herself on his mouth, letting her feel how much he wanted her.
"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his knees parted and he spread her wide to accept him. The tip of his arousal brushed along her folds, so stiff and hot.
Sam swallowed, torn between nervousness and desire. Yes, she wanted this, him, but she was also afraid what would happen when they did come together. Slowly, she nodded.
Falke chuckled, and kissed her face lightly. Moving to her ear, he sucked in a lobe before saying, "Tell me you want me. I want to hear you say the words."
Sam opened her mouth. The words were there but her voice wasn't working. How could she possibly think of talking when his tongue was weaving its magic along her ear?
"No?" he questioned, and made a move to pull away.
Sam whimpered and gripped his shoulders. She couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't fight it. Groaning desperately, she said, "Yes, I want you. Please, Falke, I want you. Now!"
His hips instantly flexed and she cried out as his thick mass pried her apart. Pleasure-pain built inside her and she felt his restraint, as he tried hard not to hurt her. He worked himself in slow, agonizing thrusts. His obvious self-control only made her want him more and Sam felt her body stretching, able to accommodate him.
"More," she growled, her voice not sounding like her own. She pushed him over onto his back. Her torn jumpsuit flapped open. His dark eyes widened in surprise but he didn't resist as she took the hard, long length of him deep into her body. Moaning, she sat still, feeling him inside her, buried to his hilt. It hurt, but with the pain came a longing so intense she wouldn't have given it up for the world.
Falke's hands were everywhere, worshiping her. He massaged her breasts, gripped her hips. When she lifted up, his stomach tightened. Sam liked watching his strong body flex and move beneath her. She felt a humming in her blood, overflowing to her stinging flesh. Her small hands rested on his broad chest and she used him for support as she pushed back down on him.
His lips moved and he was speaking, but she didn't understand his strange words. It was a growling language, hoarse and primal. Blue slivers slashed the brown of his eyes and she grew wild at his power.
Sam rode him hard, anchoring her feet into the dirt and grass. Her short nails clutched into his chest, digging into him, and he roared in instant approval. She then scratched him fiercely, understanding what he wanted, as she drew red streaks over his chest. His lips parted as manly sounds of ecstasy washed over them.
"More," she demanded, "give me more!"
Falke grabbed her hips, pulling her down hard. His fingers gripped the cheeks of her butt, parting the cleft. Sam went to lift back up, but Falke kept her tight and began moving his hips in shallow little circles, keeping himself deep.
Sam whimpered in pleasure, gripping him weakly. She'd never known it could feel so good. His skin rubbed against her sensitive clit and the beginning waves of her climax started to shake.
"Falke," she panted weakly, torn between a moan and a whimper. "Ahhh."
"Mm," his groan joined hers. "Sacred Cats!"
Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, drowning her in sensations. She called out in delight, feeling a strange new energy flowing in her limbs. The markings on her arm began to sting, but she was too far gone in pleasure to pay it much mind.
As her tight passage clamped around him, he jerked his hot release inside her, filling her with his seed. She took him in, watching his glorious finish through the slits of her eyes. The tremors seemed to last forever. When finally they eased, she lifted her body off him. Before she collapsed on his chest, she saw her claw marks were gone from his flesh and noticed that her breast now carried the ache of it. She didn't care. It didn't hurt.
"Why did you chain me?" he asked, as their breathing slowed and their hearts stopped pounding.
"To keep this from happening," she answered. She tried to pull up, but he held her down, keeping her tight against him.
"Because I made you sick?" Falke wondered aloud. "Do you feel well? You don't seem cold."
Sam held her breath in awe. His hands had been working over her and she suddenly realized that he'd been concerned that she'd turn blue again. He was making sure she stayed warm. She felt her stinging arm and ignored it, not wanting to deal with it at the moment. His body felt too good pressed next to hers.
"You don't make me sick," Sam said lightly to avoid answering. "If I found you repulsive how could I have kept the lights on in here?"
"That's not t--" he began and her fingers rose to cover his mouth to block the words. He sucked a finger in and she felt herself stirring, despite the low ache in her belly. "What is this place anyway?"
"It's VR. Virtual Reality. Here, watch." Sam pushed up and looked down at him. "Computer, run castle program, bedroom."
Falke watched in amazement as the walls glimmered and changed from nature into stone and the sun was replaced by warm firelight. Long banners lined the walls and a bed dominated the middle of the room. His back was on the floor but he didn't care.
"Ach, m'lord, 'tis shameful what yer doin'!"
Falke blinked, looking over to see a woman in very strange clothes glaring at him. She wiped her hand on her apron and slammed out a wooden door. "Who...?"
"She's not real. It's a computer generated image. It's programmed to react like that." Sam grinned.
"So," Falke murmured, warming to the idea of VR. "If I wanted her to come back, she could play?"
"Ah!" Sam's mouth dropped open and she hit him in the chest, trying to stand up.
"I'm teasing, Samantha," Falke whispered.
"If it's an audience you want, I can move us to the great hall where the knights will be dining," Sam grinned. He wasn't exactly smiling, but he never really smiled. "Sounds fun, a room full of muscular men who'll probably ask to join us. Let's do it! Com--"
Falke growled in possessiveness and dragged her mouth down to his, cutting off her words. She felt his erection pressing against the cleft in her butt. Her body grew moist, slipping on his firm stomach.
Holding her, he rolled up and easily moved to his feet, keeping his mouth sawing against hers the whole time. Her feet dangled over the floor as he walked them to the bed. He kept her body to his as he climbed on. Her legs went forward wrapping around his thighs as he dragged them onto the thick mattress.
He stripped off her clothing until she was as naked as he. His mouth kissed her body to heating once more until she was mindless and thrashing beneath him. When he entered her, lifting her leg over his shoulder, their voices mingled until they were groaning in unison. Hitting a climax every bit as good as the first, their eyes locked and held. It was perfect.
Sam leaned her head against the stall of the decontaminator. Falke was insatiable, to say the least. All she had to do was look at him sideways and he was aroused, ready to give her pleasure. Just when she thought she couldn't possibly come again, he took his time, making sure that she did. Her legs felt like water and she stayed standing by sheer willpower alone.
Falke really enjoyed the VR booth. He'd wanted to make love to her in every program, until she'd informed him there were over twelve thousand. Thinking of the eight they did manage to get through, she chuckled softly in amazement. Beyond the nature scene and the castle, there'd been a pirate ship where he'd ordered the crew to jump overboard and took her against the mast as saltwater sprinkled their bodies. Sam smiled at the memory. In a nineteenth century bordello, he'd turned her around and took her from behind amidst the gaudy red and gold decorations. He brought her orally in a waterfall. She brought him orally in a crystal covered cave. They tangled and played in silk in a strange palace draping with the stuff. And the last time, it felt like they'd been floating in stars.
When the lasers turned off indicating she was clean, she pulled on the clothes she'd set out--lightweight charcoal pants and a matching cotton shirt. Then, pushing open the door, she expected to see Falke waiting for her. He wasn't on the bed. When she looked around the room, he wasn't there either.
"Huh," Sam said, wondering where he could have gone.
Falke eyed Sam's 'crew'. Needless to say, they'd been very surprised when he showed up in their recreation room without the Captain. When asked, he just shrugged and said, "She wanted to bathe and kicked me out."
It wasn't exactly true. She'd not kicked him out of the room, but merely the bathroom as he'd tried to stay in there after his 'bath' to help Sam with hers. He couldn't help it that just the thought of her naked body made him hard.
"Shouldn't we be reaching my planet soon?" Falke asked. They'd fallen into light conversation, making manly jokes and comments as they felt each other out. At his question, their faces fell.
"Ah," Lucien began, looking helplessly at Rick and Evan. Evan was the most standoffish toward him and Falke suspected it was because he had feelings for Sam. The times he'd seen them together though, it didn't appear she returned them.
"We're not going back to your planet. We can't." Viktor cleared his throat, sitting forward.
Falke's brow furrowed in disapproval, a look usually reserved for disciplining men on the training field.
"We're out of fuel," Viktor said.
"And money," Rick added.
"We have enough to get to Torgan for the Scavenger Hunt and that's about it."
"Scavenger Hunt?" Falke asked, remembering they'd mentioned it a few times around him.
"It's a contest," Rick answered. "About a year ago, we were given this list of items, and the team that shows up with the most items from the list wins. We have them all--"
"Did have them all," Lucien exerted. "You were the last item ... or so we thought. For some reason we thought you were a ... wild beast. I swear none of us are drinking any time soon."
"And if you had your wild beast, you think you could win?" Falke asked curious. The men all nodded. "What's the prize?"
"Lots and lots of space credits," Viktor said, sighing. "Enough to set us all up for a long time."
"I plan on blowing my cut in one month--on renting out the Galaxy Playmate mansion and having my way with every single beauty in the place." Rick grinned, leaning back. His hands threaded behind his head and he sighed with a dreamy look of pleasure on his face.
Falke laughed. He was pretty sure every living humanoid knew of the Galaxy Playmates. Even some of his men had crushes on them. The men had petitioned his father several times to allow the dancers to come, but for some reason Attor always said no.
"Hum," was all Falke said. "So how did you all come to be here? I mean on this ship."
The guys exchanged looks.
"You mean on the ship with Sam, don't you?" Evan said, borderline pleasant.
"Yes," Falke answered, unashamed. "On this ship with Sam."
"Sam's special," Evan answered. "Let's just leave it at that, okay?"
Falke merely nodded, showing no outward emotion. Even the friendly Rick looked reluctant to speak about it. He respected their genuine loyalty to her, even if it didn't help him discover more about her. But, Falke was old enough to know that given time, everything that should would come to pass. He was a patient man. So long as it was his arms Sam melted in, he could wait for her to trust him with her secrets.
Thinking of her body pressed to his, he let a thoughtful expression move over his usually impassive face. When he glanced around, he saw all eyes were on him, studying him. He could practically feel their anxiety and would bet anything they wanted to ask about his intentions with Sam.
"So," Lucien began, drawing out the word a long time. "Are you upset that we can't get you back right away?"
Falke thought about that. Upset that he'd get to spend more time with Sam before going home? No, he really wasn't upset. "I would like to tell my family what happened, so they don't worry."
"Oh, yeah, of course. So long as the Captain says it's all right," Lucien said. Falke hid his smile.
"We recently signed a peace treaty, so it is a good time for a vacation," Falke continued. "Had you taken me a year ago, I would've slaughtered you for it."
The crew let loose a round of nervous laughter. They had no doubt the man was capable of such a thing. Falke sat back in his chair. One by one the men smiled at him, though Evan's expression was more gauging than polite and Dev merely curled his lip briefly--which, come to think of it, Falke determined it might not have been a smile but a twitch. The conversation turned to his home and to war stories and not once did anyone mention the one thing that was on their minds--Captain Samantha Dorsey.
Sam leaned against the wall, listening to the men talk. She didn't go in to interrupt, somehow pleased that they were all getting along. She tried to convince herself that it was for the best if the Prince liked them, which was true but not the whole truth. It was important that her friends liked her new ... what was he to her anyway? Boyfriend? No, it seemed too soon for intimate titles. Lover, she decided. Falke was just her lover.
She found herself standing out in the hall much longer than she intended to. Eavesdropping wasn't her thing, normally, but as she heard Falke's rich voice talking about his homeland and his family, she couldn't help but listen. Her mind devoured everything it could about him.
He had four brothers. She couldn't catch all their names, but heard Reid, King Kirill, and Quinn. It seemed his planet suffered from blue radiation which caused the birth of female children to be very rare occurrences. Maybe one in a thousand births was a Qurilixian female born. Over the generations, the radiation altered the men's genetics to produce only strong, large male, warrior heirs. Sam thought of Falke and couldn't imagine a whole kingdom filled with men just like him.
Rick had been the most horrified at that fact, claiming he could never grow up in a place barren of women. At that, Falke told him of his father's great harem, filled with hundred of beauties. Sam felt her cheeks flame. She was slightly jealous of the idea that Falke would someday have the same things--not that she was in any position to be jealous. Rick proclaimed that's where he'd like to stay, should they ever visit the palace.
"Just toss me in with the grieving widows and throw away the key! If it kills me, know I died a happy, well sated man!" were his exact words.
The love Falke had for his life and his family was palpable. If ever she dared to dream that he'd leave it behind to float through space with her, she didn't think so anymore. This was a man who belonged in his homeland. Even if he would say yes, she'd never ask it of him. Her hand reached up and wound around her bicep, holding it firmly.
Hearing footsteps, Sam darted into action and moved down the hall, not wishing to get caught. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Dev and stopped. He came up to her. Then, without speaking, he picked up her arm and looked at her markings. New lines had grown around it, swirling around a center diamond.
"It's done then?" he asked.
Sam couldn't meet his eyes. Slowly, she nodded. "Don't tell the others. Not yet."
Dev agreed with a single tilt of his head. "Does the Prince know?"
Sam shook her head in denial. "No."
"Will you tell him?" Dev asked, his voice low. Sam gazed up into his pitch black eyes. She didn't see his red skin anymore. She just saw, Devil, her friend. Devil wasn't his real name, but a nickname she'd given him because his real name was nearly twenty five syllables long and in a difficult language. After awhile, Devil became Dev.
"No," she whispered at last. Dev nodded in acceptance and no more words were needed. He held out his arm and she took it. Walking her to her room in silence, he dropped her off by her door, leaned his head against her briefly, and left her alone.
Sam sat quietly on her couch, trying to watch the old Earth movies without much luck when Falke came back. Looking up, she couldn't help the soft smile that came over her face. Just seeing him made her giddy with pleasure.
"Why did you not come in?" he asked, no pretense in him. "You didn't have to listen from the hallway."
Sam instantly turned pink. He'd known she was there? Did that mean the rest...?
"No," he said, as if reading her mind. "The others didn't know you were there."
"Then? What gave me away?" she asked. There was no use in denying what he already knew for certain.
"I felt you," he said, crossing to her and dropping down on the couch. He automatically lifted his arm over her shoulders, as if was the most natural thing in the world to do so. His fingers rested absently along her upper arm.
"Felt me?" she asked, chuckling. She didn't pull away.
"Perhaps I will explain to you someday." Falke's eyes turned to the small screen along the wall. Two humans, dressed strangely, were dancing with waving arms and making tapping noises with their feet as they sang. "This is film?"
Sam wondered at his enigmatic words, but didn't pry. He'd probably seen her arm peek along the doorframe when she wasn't paying attention. "Yeah. I'm warning you though. It's addictive."
"So is kissing you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. When she would speak, he rushed, "What is it called? This film?"
"Um, I'm not sure. It's really old though and the plot seems a little silly," Sam admitted.
"And, they must sing to talk? Is this an old Earth custom?" Falke asked, grimacing at the screen as the couple hit a high note. "I won't sing for you."
Sam chuckled softly, "That's very gallant of you."
"Take my word on it, it is."
"No, Earth custom wasn't to sing like this. These films are called musicals. They're used to tell stories in words and songs. That skinny guy was named Fred Astaire and that blonde was named Ginger Rogers. They did a lot of this in the Earth 1900's."
"What else does this show?" Falke's hand dropped to her shoulder.
"Ah, anything really," Sam shrugged. "There's old comedy, action--"
"Action," Falke said decisively. "Show me the action one."
"All right," she giggled even as she thought, typical. "Computer, show action movie. Anything."
"Yes, Your Highness," the computer answered.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Viktor was supposed to change that." Sam began to pull up.
"It's fine. Now shhh. I want to see this action," Falke said, staring forward in complete curiosity.
"I told you it was addictive," Sam whispered, just to keep talking.
Falke pretended to frown and lifted his hand from her shoulder to wrap around her mouth, covering it. He didn't look at her. "Hush."
Sam giggled as something big exploded on the screen. She sucked one of Falke's fingers into her mouth. His breath inhaled sharply and she wondered if it was her or the big manly blast and hard pumping music from the viewing screen.
Falke's eyes turned to her. His hand moved to play with her red streaked hair. "Play like that will get you into trouble."
The coy look she shot him said, 'so?'
Falke moved his free hand to her stomach. Sam tensed. "After today, I think it would be good for you to recover. I have no wish to cause you harm. I know you must be sore here."
Sam felt tears stinging behind her eyes, which was stupid because she never cried. She choked them back and affected a pout. Falke leaned down and kissed her soundly. When her lips parted to deepen the kiss, he instantly pulled back. Taking her jaw, he turned her face to the screen, "Watch the action."
Sam grinned and settled herself against him, content to be held. Falke's arm tightened around her. Before she realized what happened, she was fast asleep in his arms.
"We're stopping at Ticaron," Sam announced, looking at her crew in the dining hall the next morning. Their eyes were a mix of surprise and worry. She'd expected as much. "I'm going to see my father and ask him for the fuel money. I've been thinking about it a lot and we have too much riding on the Scavenger Hunt. We're a wild beast short and if we don't win, we'll be stranded on Torgan until we can make enough credits to get off. I, for one, don't feel like getting a job there, nor do I feel like smuggling a load for some Kingpin to get off the planet."
"You don't have to do that, Sam," Evan said softly. Dark circles wound under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. "Your father--"
"It's the best option. We owe it to Falke to get him home and we need money. If we win, then we simply pay my father back and go about our merry way." Sam went to the food simulator and asked for coffee. The machine dinged and she took out a mug, sipping the hot brown liquid. It had taken her awhile to get used to the taste, but being as it was a human custom, she'd been determined. Now, she loved it.
"You know that your father will demand something from you in return," Evan said. He stared at her, and Sam frowned.
"I'll just have to convince him otherwise," Sam answered. Though, she knew it was easier said than done. "This isn't up for discussion. I'm not the same person I was when I left. I don't have to be the compliant daughter. He'll see that. So, we're going. If anything, we'll get off this ship for a night and eat a really big meal."
Slowly, all the men nodded and turned back to their breakfast. None of them seemed too happy with the idea, but Sam was glad they weren't arguing with her. Afterwards, Evan stayed behind as the others went to do their jobs about the ship.
Sam glanced at him over her third cup of coffee, and asked, "What is it?"
"We're friends, right?" Evan studied her face for an answer.
"Of course," Sam sighed, setting the mug down. Her hands reached over to cover his. "Why would--"
Evan cleared his throat, looking over her shoulder. Sam turned toward the open door and saw Falke. He looked from Sam to Evan and then back again. His face was blank, but that was nothing new. Slowly, the Prince stepped forward, his eyes on Evan as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
Sam blinked in surprise. Evan nodded at the Prince and moved to leave. "I'll talk to you later, Sam."
"Bye," she called before turning to look up at Falke. She couldn't help but notice his possessive action was more for Evan's benefit than for hers. She decided to let it slide, so long as it didn't become a habit. If any pissing contests started on the ship, she'd banish them all away from her and settle it like that. But, since she liked having Falke in her quarters, she really hoped the situation would resolve itself.
"I don't like waking without you," Falke said, his voice serious.
"I'm sorry," Sam said, a little hard and sarcastic. "I woke up and wanted some coffee."
Falke studied her for a moment and then looked at her cup. "I didn't mean that like it sounded."
"Good," she stated, "Because it sounded a little too possessive."
Falke looked at Sam. She had the purple streak back in her choppy cut hair and he was secretly glad. He really liked the color better than the red. It matched her beautiful violet eyes. At her words, his heart squeezed in his chest. She didn't want him being possessive about her. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.
"May I?" Falke asked, nodding toward her cup.
Sam smiled. It was a mischievous look that brightened up her entire face. "Go ahead, but you won't like it."
"How do you know?" Falke asked, his eyes dipping to her lush mouth. He really wanted to kiss her.
"It's an acquired taste," she answered.
"If you like it, it can't be all that bad," Falke said gallantly. Her brow rose and she waved at the mug. He smiled slightly, lifted it to his lips, took a little sip, and then gagged. Spitting the liquid into the cup, he grimaced. "I was wrong. It's bad."
Sam chuckled and shot him a smug look that cried, 'Told you!'
"I want to contact my brothers," Falke said. "They'll be worried about me. We just signed a peace treaty with the Draig, our ancient enemies, and I don't want them starting a war because they believe the Draig have done me harm."
Sam's first reaction had been to say no, but with such an explanation, how could she?
"Our wars are very deadly," Falke continued. The concern in him was palpable. "Many innocents could die."
"I'll talk to Lucien," Sam answered, nodding slowly in agreement. "He should be able to establish a connection. Do you know their frequency?"
Falke nodded once.
"Good," Sam said, not sounding enthusiastic about it. She stood and moved to the food simulator. "Now, how about some breakfast? What can I get you?"
"We'll reach Ticaron tomorrow," Rick said, when Sam stopped by the cockpit looking for Evan. She felt her stomach knot up. "You sure about this?"
Falke was with Lucien trying to find a signal back home. She'd wanted to stay and listen, but didn't want to be obvious. Instead, she told Lucien to keep his ears open for anything strange in the conversation. She'd also said to make sure the conversation was grainy and cut out a lot. She wanted to trust Falke, but she'd not be responsible if he decided to give his fellow warriors their destination. They didn't need a star fleet on their butts the entire way to Torgan.
"Yeah, Rick," she said, stepping inside to sit at the copilot seat. She looked at the wide viewing screen. Rick had it open and she could see the endless sea of stars around them. It was beautiful--pinpoints of light in an otherwise black world. In the distance was a hazy looking cloud with slashes of subtle colored lights.
"What choice do we have?" Sam sighed heavily, staring at the pretty light streaks before them. "Viktor was right. I have to face him sometime and it might as well be now when I need something from him."
"Supernova," Rick said, motioning absently toward the cloud. "It just showed up. It's rare to see one and is considered a sign of good luck, so you know everything's going to go fine tomorrow."
Sam nodded.
"We'll be on our best behavior," Rick promised. Sam knew that for him it was a big step. Rick believed in always being himself.
"Thank you," Sam said. She turned to resume her search for Evan.
"But, if things get ugly, you just give the word and we'll get you out of there with our six shooters a-blazin'." Rick made shooting noises as he pointed his fingers like guns.
Stopping in the doorway, she said wryly, "I really should take your viewing screen away. You're getting bad."
Rick grinned. "Ah, the girls like it when you have a quirk. They think it's adorable."
"Well, space cowboy, get your six shooters ready," Sam said. "I have a feeling we might need them."
Falke looked at the communicator and slipped the headset on. The connection was bad and he frowned slightly. When he glanced at Lucien, the man said, "It's the best I could find. We're getting some kind of interference."
"Sam told you to make it short," Falke said, not sounding upset. Lucien paled, which was amazing considering his already light coloring. Falke's lip curled a fraction at the corner and he reached to the panel and adjusted the sound until it was crystal clear.
"Falke?" he heard his brother, Kirill saying. "Falke, are you there?"
"Quit shouting," Falke answered. He closed his eyes. He didn't realize how good it would sound to hear a familiar voice. At his words, he heard an explosion of talking behind Kirill.
"Sacred Cats! Where are you?" Kirill asked. "Half the Kingdom is ready to go to war against the Draig. Quinn and Reid suspected Myrddin's son, Andras, of kidnapping you."
"I'm in space," Falke answered calmly.
"I figured as much since you're using the Com link," Kirill answered dryly. "What's going on? Why didn't you tell us you were leaving?"
"I didn't have a choice in the matter," Falke hesitated. It was embarrassing to admit that he, the great Var Commander, had been kidnapped by a drunk woman not even half his size. "I've been abducted, but it's fine now."
"Damn it!" Kirill swore. "Jarek came back and dragged you off, didn't he? That's why he hasn't been answering Reid's calls."
"No, I haven't seen Jarek," Falke answered.
"So you're all right then?" Kirill asked.
"Yes. I'm fine. It was a mistake. The ship is stopping on Torgan to refuel and then I'll be coming home." Falke's tone was flat, emotionless.
"Torgan, but that's...." Kirill began.
"Yes, I know," Falke answered.
"Very well," Kirill stated. "I'll have this frequency monitored and clear at all times, should you have a need to contact us."
"Very good. Falke out," Falke said. When Kirill answered in kind, Falke flipped the switch on the panel, shutting down the communication.
Planet Qurilixen, Palace of the Var
Dark stubble shadowed King Kirill's chiseled jaw, matching the long black hair that spilled down over his broad shoulders. His brown eyes were so dark they looked black, and at the moment they were bloodshot from little sleep. He'd been awake since Falke was discovered missing.
The King was perfectly built, not too broad and not too thin. He wore the traditional garb of the royal family. Black leather bands with silver studs gripped tight to his biceps and wrists, secured taut on both of his arms. His shirt appeared to be one piece of material, with two narrow straps over the shoulders. It was held together by black cross lacing beneath his arms, leaving his sides and waist exposed. His pants were of the same material as the shirt, soft, yet molding to his body. A belt matched the armband, clinging around his narrow waist. More cross lacing reached from the knee, over the outside length of his thighs, leaving no indention of firm muscle to the imagination, as it revealed tanned flesh all the way up his hip.
Queen Ulyssa stood near her husband, wearing a loose blue gown of shimmering material that showed the slight bulge of the child growing inside her. Her hair was a peculiar shade of blonde and red, pulled back from her face into a bun that rested neatly above the long nape of her neck. Her dark blue eyes were also bloodshot from lack of sleep. She, too, was worried for Falke.
Looking at his brothers, the King said, "We need to get a hold of Jarek."
Reid, the Var Commander of the Outlands, nodded his head. His long hair fell in long dark waves to his waist. Jarek was his identical twin and they were the darkest of the brothers. "The last I spoke to him he was near Torgan. He should still be in the area."
"Why would someone kidnap Falke?" Quinn, the Ambassador Prince, asked. He was the smallest of the five brothers and usually had an easygoing nature. Right now, his face was tight with worry. His brown eyes turned to his wife and he pulled her closer to his side. His hand settled protectively on her stomach. Princess Tori wrapped her arms around his waist.
"I don't know, but I intend to find out. Whoever this is, if they're heading to Torgan, they could very well be pirates. I'll not have our brother sold on the black market."
"If he was in trouble," Tori inserted logically. She was a scientist and often liked to look at all angles. "Why would they let him call home? It's not like we know where he was to begin with."
"Maybe Falke convinced them we did and they made him say everything is fine," Ulyssa countered, though without conviction. She used to work for the Human Intelligence Agency as an undercover Agent. She was more suspicious of people's motives.
"Regardless," Kirill stated. "If our brother is coming home, I'd rather know it was with Jarek."
"Agreed," Quinn stated, scratching the light brown hair from his face.
"Agreed. I'll not stop trying until I get a hold Jarek," Reid promised.
Sam looked into the mirror of her vanity and frowned. She knew she was going to be sitting there for awhile. Picking the hairstyle option of long wavy blonde hair, she sat quietly as the machine went to work. She knew it would be awhile before her hair was grown to the proper length to please her father. But, the way she saw it, there was no reason to upset him about the little things.
Sam found Evan in VR with Dev and Viktor, battling it out with a group of Sentries. Dev had glanced at her as she wandered in and shook his head, indicating that now wasn't a good time. She'd nodded and backed out once more.
The door slid open and Falke entered. He looked gorgeous in the tight black shirt and pants he'd borrowed from Dev. Her eyes were drawn to his flat stomach, before she turned back to the mirror. Coming forward, he stared at her head. "What is this thing?"
"It's a hair styler," she answered.
"I like the style you had," Falke answered.
"Yeah, so did I," Sam met his dark gaze through the mirror and shivered. She saw a spark of passion in him.
"Then why do you change it?" he asked.
"It's what girls do," Sam joked. Falke seemed confused, so she said, "I really don't have a choice this time. Believe me, it's for the best."
"Ah," Falke looked around. Seeing a chair in the far corner, he grabbed it and carried it over to the vanity. As he sat, Sam knew he had every intention of watching her. "This is for your father then?"
Sam froze. Her heart skittered nervously.
"Rick told me we were stopping at your home," Falke stated easily. "Ticaron."
"Oh, well, I'll be stopping there. You can stay on the ship," Sam said. The last thing she wanted was to bring her lover home to meet her father. That wouldn't bode well for either of them.
Falke frowned. "You are ashamed of me?"
"No, no," Sam denied a little too lightly. "Don't be ... silly."
"If not that, then?"
"It's complicated," Sam explained. Her scalp was tingling now and she shivered.
"Explain it to me," Falke insisted, his voice soft.
"He's my father," Sam said, hoping to leave it at that. "He won't take kindly to me having a male friend."
"But, the others can go?" Falke asked, before nodding in understanding. "Ah, I see. Your father would not want you having a male lover with you. I have heard some father's are like that with daughters."
"You have no idea," Sam said, relieved that he understood and would be staying behind.
"Then I will be a crewman and not your lover tomorrow," Falke announced. Sam paled slightly. "That way, I may go with you. There is no reason to tell him everything."
"Oh, but--"
"My culture doesn't think twice about lovers. Though, we don't have many women, sons are encouraged to prove their prowess in all areas. To hold a grown child back from what is natural makes no sense."
"Oh, well ... um, that's right, you have several brothers, don't you?" Sam asked, eager to change the subject.
"Four," Falke answered.
"Are any of you married?" Sam questioned, shyly.
"I am not, if that's what you're asking." Falke chuckled softly and she saw amusement flash in his eyes. She blushed. "Two are lifemated and expecting children."
"Lifemated?" Sam repeated. "So, they have harems?"
Falke grinned and Sam had a feeling she was being very transparent. Okay, so she wanted to know if he was married or planned on having a harem. So what? Glancing sideways at him, she turned pink.
"No, harems are for half-mates. My brothers have lifemated. They will be with one woman for all their lives, giving their strength to make the women live as long as they." Falke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "My father, King Attor, had a harem of well over a hundred women."
"Then, you will do the same?" Sam asked.
"Are you asking that I put you in my harem?"
Sam balked, "No."
Falke was amused. It was clear she didn't understand that he was teasing. "I will have no harem. It looks like too much work."
"Oh, yeah right, like you couldn't satisfy all those women. I've seen you in action, buddy," she answered.
His hand shot out and snaked up her thigh. She stiffened, unable to get away with her hair caught up into the styler. His tone so low it gave her chills, he asked, "Are you asking me to satisfy you?"
Her body tingled where he touched her. She swallowed, licking her lips. "I can't really move right now."
"Mmmm," Falke moaned, dropping to his knees beside her. "I know."
"So," Sam said, clamping her legs shut. "Does that mean you'll marry, ah lifemate, to a Princess then? I mean, that's what your kind does, isn't it?"
"My kind?" he questioned. His walked on his knees until he was directly before her. She panted as his hands reached up to grab her hips.
"Royalty," Sam gasped, trying to concentrate. His fingers slipped into the waistband of her charcoal pants and he pulled them down ever so slowly.
"Royalty is in my blood, but it's also in my heart," Falke answered, completely unashamed by what he was doing. His eyes stared at her stomach, more interested in her smooth flesh than in his answers. Absently, he continued, "As are my people. It is what I am. I am bound by duty and will do what I must."
Sam took that to mean he would marry a Princess. She didn't answer. A pain settled in her chest though.
Falke was just babbling nonsense, in what he hoped was a coherent answer. Her sweet smell was in his head and he was dizzy with the need to taste her. Leaning forward, he licked at her navel, pleased when her muscles contracted at his touch. He did it again, making her moan softly.
Sam forgot what they'd been talking about when his hands slipped beneath her shirt, moving the built-in bra aside to cup her breasts. His fingers teased and when she gasped, he rose so that his lips could follow his hands. Falke's hot mouth closed around a tender bud and he sucked gently. Sam jerked, held trapped in the chair by her hair.
His mouth continued its agonizingly wet kisses on her breasts as his hands glided to her hips. She was lost in sensation and barely noticed as her pants were pulled from her body. Low, pleasured noise growled from Falke's mouth as he kissed her. Her hands lifted, weakly dropping on his hair and shoulders. She gripped the warm cotton shirt, as his mouth moved down her stomach.
"You smell so good," he growled. "Delicious."
By the time his lips drew close to her mound, she was wet and shaking with need. His tongue dipped into the arch, so light and slow that she thought her body would explode from the unreleased pressure inside her. Her leg hooked over his shoulder, trying to force him closer. He was too strong and easily resisted her efforts.
"Falke," she panted, hooking him with her other leg. She strained with all her might, and still she couldn't make him latch his hot mouth to her.
His tongue moved in light, teasing flicks and his hand did torturous things to her nipples, pinching and rolling them to shoot hot liquid waves down her core. "Mm, do you like this?"
His words vibrated her and she yelled louder, "Falke!"
Her hips thrust in the air, restlessly showing the rhythm she wanted him to start. His hands skated down and she felt the heat of them hovering close to her soaked passage. "Do you want me?"
His tongue hit her clit and she cried out, "Yes, yes, I want you! Falke, please!"
"Don't forget it," he answered softly, but Sam was too far gone to pay attention to his words, let alone consider them.
At the same time his mouth sucked onto her sensitive nub, two fingers thrust up inside her. He took her with his mouth and hand, working her body into a desperate frenzy. She thrust hard and mindless against him, loudly moaning her passion. The tension built and she didn't fight it. Her orgasm came to her hard and strong, making her stiffen violently until she couldn't even scream. Falke's mouth continued, slowly as he milked everything she had from her body. She felt him licking her body's juices and heard his moans of intense satisfaction as he did so.
When he pulled back, she was limp. He grinned at her, letting her watch as he licked her taste from his lips. His dark eyes were passionate. Her legs slid off him to the floor. She would've fallen over if not for the hair styler's hold and the chair beneath her.
Falke stared at her breasts and she moved self-consciously to pull her shirt back down. He frowned faintly, but did not protest. Instead, she watched as he leaned forward toward her thighs and took a deep breath. A low groan sounded.
"I'm going to be stuck like this for awhile. Would you mind handing me my pants?" Sam asked weakly, feeling vulnerable and exposed. She pointed to the floor, trying to reach them with her foot.
Falke reached behind him and lifted up the charcoal pants. He grinned wickedly as he stood. She reached her hand out to take them, but he shook his head and tossed them further away. Her eyes couldn't help being drawn to his large erection. Somehow the recent climax only made her want him more.
"I want to look at you, smell your perfume in the air," Falke whispered, leaning to her ear to give it a small flick of his tongue. He reached his own hand over to his pants to stroke the large erection bulging through the material. Sam watched his hand run lazily up his own body in excitement. She reached for him and he took a step back, moving just beyond her reach.
"But--" she began, pouting.
Falke unbuttoned the pants and let them fall open, revealing the tip of his shaft. He put his hand inside and stroked. Her breath caught and she couldn't look away. The material clung to his hips and as his hand thrust down, more of him was revealed.
Sam instantly became aroused. She reached for him but he was too far away. He glanced at her hips. Hesitating slightly, she reached down to stroke herself. It wasn't enough. She wanted Falke.
"Come here," she demanded, her words husky.
To her surprise, he stopped his movement and placed his hands on his hips. A strangled noise of disappointment left her throat. She eyed his arousal, wanting to take it into her mouth.
"Do you want me?" he asked.
The answer was more than obvious, but she said, "Yes. Come here."
"Good," he answered. "It will give you something to think about until you're freed. I'll be waiting on the couch watching action."
Sam gasped. At first she was angry that he'd deny her, and then realized that he was merely drawing it out for both their pleasure--building the anticipation. As she sat there, sex with Falke was all she could think about. Her body grew hot, her mind raced with wicked ideas, and the damned hair styler seemed to take forever to finish.
Falke tried to get into the film about three humans and some robots trying to save their Empire, or were they fighting the Empire? He couldn't be certain. His mind kept drifting to the fact that Sam was half naked stuck to a chair. By sheer willpower alone, he didn't look at her. His arousal throbbed and he tried to ignore it, not moving around because it caused small spasms of painful desire to hit him.
He'd seen her hesitance to bring him to her home, and knew he'd manipulated the situation so he could go. Falke really did wish to see what her family was like and he had no desire to be hidden like a dirty secret from them. But, remembering discussions with his brother Quinn over the years, he knew that many cultures were more reserved than the wild Var race and did not discuss things so openly, like mating.
Falke didn't understand the logic of it, but he'd try his best to respect her culture. It would be hard though, not laying his hand on her shoulder and marking her publicly as his. At home, she'd already be marked by his scent and none would dare to go near her. Other races, however, might not detect his mark unless he made it known with actions and words.
He did his best to watch an interesting sword fight with glowing rods. Suddenly, he saw a flash of movement to his side. On pure instinct, he twirled and caught Sam about the waist. Long strands of blonde hair crashed around his shoulders. In one swift movement he pulled her around and laid her along the wide couch beneath him.
He moaned softly to look at her, lying in a silken bed of her long hair. Her bangs were short, cut straight across the forehead. She smiled at him, her violet eyes full of longing as she grabbed his mouth to hers.
Within moments she had his waistband undone and was pulling him to her body. Falke couldn't resist, loving the sweet softness that enveloped him as he took her. She was more than ready for him and he thrust hard, filling her. Sam moaned in pleasure. Her hips worked, forcing him into a frantic rhythm. With a growl and a scream they exploded with their swift climax.
"That was mean," she gasped after the tremors subsided. He was still inside her and she didn't move to push him away.
"Ah," Falke answered, placing small kisses on her jaw. He held her close. "But you didn't sit there with that frown worrying about your father, did you?"
Sam merely sighed, nestling closer.
Ticaron was a wonderland of lush countryside, exquisite flowers and trees, babbling streams, moderate temperatures. It looked the very definition of paradise. Sam felt her hair stirring over her shoulders, as she looked down the docking plank. She didn't need to see the planet to know what it looked like. Sure, to most it looked like paradise. To her, it looked like a prison. If her father had his way, she'd spend the better part of forever on Ticaron and never leave.
Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned and nodded at Evan. She drew comfort from his silent support.
"You don't have to do this, Sam," he whispered. "You know what he's capable of. Let's just go."
Sam shivered. She did have to do this, more than Evan knew. Somehow she needed to find out if what she suspected was true, and if it was, could it be reversed? Remembering the changed marking on her arm and the night she'd spent blue and freezing next to Falke, she stiffened her resolve. Coming for the money was just an excuse. Under any other circumstances, they wouldn't have been able to drag her to the planet to see her father.
"It's too late for that. I had Lucien contact my father's men to tell him of our arrival." Sam took a deep breath. She didn't feel like herself. She felt like a young girl, waiting nervously to be scolded by her father for running away. She looked as she did when she was younger, too, with her long blonde hair whipping over her shoulders. She'd forgotten how long it used to take her to brush her hair at such a length.
Her gown was an amethyst color with glimmering silver overlay, given to her by her father for the coronation celebration--the one she ran out on so many years ago. The Tuesday. The material clung softly to her shoulders and breasts. The long sleeves belled from her wrists, parting so her hands were free as they draped to the ground. The square neckline was cut high against her chest and the skirt was long, hiding the improper boots she wore beneath.
"You be careful, Evan. My father has a long memory," Sam whispered. "You know this place. I need you to keep an eye out for me."
Hearing heavy footfall, Sam turned. Evan's hand was still on her shoulder. Falke looked first at her, then Evan, then to where Evan touched her. His dark eyes flashed with what could've been anger. Evan slowly drew his hand back and brought it to his side, saying nothing. Falke stepped forward and placed his hand where Evan's had been, draping his arm possessively about Sam's shoulders. He kissed her temple, his hot eyes boring into Evan's.
Sam stiffened and wiggled Falke's hand from her shoulder. Evan let a small smile curl his lips, though he stared straight ahead. Falke frowned. She motioned to Rick and Evan to begin the walk down. Lucien and Viktor soon moved to follow.
"I shall be the one to protect you, Sam, if you suspect you are in danger," Falke stated, his lips tight. "I am your...."
Falke frowned. Before he could continue, Sam turned to him.
"While we are here, you are no longer my lover. You are not to act possessive. In fact, don't act as if I am anything more to you than a crew member. Don't touch me. Don't look at me too long. Don't speak to me too often. My father is a smart man. He'll be able to read you in a second if you mess up." Sam took a deep breath. If the mark on her arm was true and she'd changed, her father didn't need to know that this man changed her. All she wanted from her father was to know if she could change it back. "And you're now the Medical Officer of my ship."
Falke frowned. "You wish for me to tell lies about who I am?"
"Like offering to say you're a crew member just so you could come along, isn't a lie?" Sam questioned.
"Ah, but, I am a member of the crew. Rick inducted me when I asked him," Falke smiled.
"Just ... you're the Medical Officer. It's only for one night. You want to get home, don't you? Well, this is how we get the money to get you home," Sam stated.
"That is the only reason you come here? To get rid of me?" Falke hissed in her ear. "What are you not saying? I can tell something is wrong."
"Just do it," Sam pleaded. "There are things here that you don't understand. Whatever happens, whatever is said, please keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, stay locked on the ship, it's up to you."
"I'll come," Falke said, not liking his options.
"Men walk first. Go with Dev," Sam stated, staring straight ahead.
Falke walked, hesitated, turned back, and then kissed her firmly on the lips. Sam trembled, feeling him to her toes. Her eyes closed as she steadied herself. She'd spent all morning trying to distance herself so her father wouldn't see her emotions. With one kiss, he brought all that back. Only when she heard the heavy footfall walking down the plank, did she open her eyes and continue forward on her own.
A small gathering of her father's guards greeted her. She ignored the crew who stood to the side, as she found her father at the front of the small troop. His tall willowy frame was just as she remembered and he had soft features that had not aged since she'd left. His white blonde hair reached in soft waves to his waist and a band of silver dipped low on his forehead, wrapping around his head.
Seeing her, he smiled and lifted his hand to the side. He wore a shirt of dark blue, with the same sweeping sleeves of her gown. The shirt hung long, falling open at the front waist to bare silver pants.
"Xantha, my daughter," he said, smiling wider. "You have come back to me."
Sam lifted her arm in a similar greeting and made a small curtsy with arms extended. "Gretori Zothos, my father."
Falke watched Sam in silence. She appeared different, elegant and stiff. The man whom she called father was slender, almost effeminate in stature. Looking at the men behind him, who Falke guessed were warriors by their bows and daggers, he saw the race tended to look that way.
Sam's arms stayed extended to the side, holding perfectly still until her father took a step forward to her. When he moved, her arms dropped. He smiled at her in greeting. Her voice stiff, she motioned behind her. "These are my guests, members of my crew."
Zothos' eyes narrowed, barely noting the men behind his daughter. He moved as if to hug her and then stopped. His head tilted to the side. Striking forward, he grabbed Sam's arm and wrenched it up. She flinched, but ignored the pain as his eye bore to where her blue mark was covered by the gown.
Damn Falke for that kiss! Sam thought, panicking slightly. He'd gotten her heart pumping and now her father sensed what she'd done. She stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak.
"Crew," he stated dryly and she knew he suppressed his great anger. His dark blue eyes flashed as he sensed the men behind her. Sam felt his power unfurling over her. Zothos' sharp gaze turned over the crew. She watched them moving, knowing who they alighted on without even turning around. By the fourth movement, his eyes were on Falke. He stopped. Letting go of her arm, he stormed angrily around her. Sam turned, watching in dread as he moved before the giant Var Prince.
"You have bound with my daughter," Zothos stated, his words dark. His arms crossed over his chest, a sign of great displeasure to the Ticara race. To hold one's arms wide was to accept. This was a major slight. Sam grimaced. Her father stated louder, "You have slept with my daughter."
If Sam had any lingering doubts about what she'd done, her father's reaction cleared them up. It was as she feared. That was all the confirmation she needed. Things could not be undone. Swallowing, she stepped forward. Hoping to defuse the situation, Sam began, "Father--"
"You mated with a Roane?" Zothos questioned, his brow rising on his face.
Sam looked at Falke and his dark eyes met hers. He nodded in a silent acknowledgement that he was indeed part Roane. She'd never thought to ask.
Her father turned to her and continued, "His body will not create life with yours, Xantha. You give life, his kind borrows it. He will drain you. His child will drain you. Not to mention Gretori Fenton will be disappointed."
"Not everything is about marriage and alliances," she mumbled under her breath. Truthfully, she was a little mortified by the whole conversation. She really should have known her father would react in such a way. Zothos' gaze narrowed and she rushed, "Father, may I introduce Prince Falke."
"A Prince," her father said, his face lightening some. Somehow the expression didn't give Sam comfort. His hands dropped to the side. He turned to Falke, not as aggressive as before. "What family?"
"Var," Falke answered, his tone even. Sam was secretly glad for that. She liked that he wasn't going to be an easy read for her father.
"How old is your line?" Zothos asked.
"My father, please," Sam pleaded.
"Come now, Xantha, doesn't a father have the right to question the man sleeping with his daughter? You have brought him before me. You knew what would happen." Zothos turned back to Falke. He was dwarfed by the man, but didn't seem to notice or care.
Sam wanted to die. Did he have to do this now? In front of his men? In front of her crew?
"Fifty-sixty generations at least," Falke stated. His lip curled into the closest thing she'd ever seen to a full smile, which wasn't saying much. There was pride in him. "Perhaps more. Before that time not many records were kept."
"And will you be King?" Zothos asked.
"My brother, Kirill, is King. I am second in line, but do not look to take the crown. My duty lies as Commander of the Var Armies."
"Armies?" Zothos looked Falke's massive size over. "Are you warriors?"
"Yes, some of the best."
"Impressive," Zothos nodded. His arms reached out to the side. "You speak the truth. You have my blessing to marry my daughter."
Falke stiffened, his eyes turned to Sam. He'd been shocked that the man could know the connection between them with one brief look. If he had to guess, he'd say Zothos was very powerful. Sam was pale, swaying on her feet. For a moment, he thought he'd have to catch her. It was clear she'd not been prepared for that statement. It didn't seem to bring her much pleasure.
Sam watched the back and forth between the two men in silence. With each syllable, she wanted to run back into the ship and fly away. What had she been thinking, coming back here? As her father gave his blessing, Sam fought the overwhelming urge to be sick. Her father was agreeing too readily to Falke. And, she saw the way Falke stiffened. Obviously, he wasn't keen on the idea.
Nothing like having good ol' dad make a proposal on my behalf, in front of all my friends and a large portion of his guards, she thought, sarcastically. She did her best to smile, but she knew her look was frozen. Nothing like having that proposal so well received by the man I'm sleeping with. This can't possibly get any worse.
Sam was wrong. With his next words, it got much worse.
"I take it this is the reason you have come to finish your coronation?" Zothos said, though his tone wasn't really asking a question. "So that you can go with your Prince?"
"No," Sam began.
To her horror, Falke asked, "Coronation?"
"She didn't tell you?" Zothos was genuinely surprised. He looked at his daughter. Sam stared at the ground. His tone placating, he continued, "Ah, it's a minor detail, I assure you Prince Falke. Xantha is a Princess by blood, in all ways. The ceremony is just her acceptance of her role. It is merely a traditional formality. I am happy to hear she's finally come to perform it."
"I didn't--" Sam tried.
"Xantha, please, invite your guests into my home and show them to rooms in the west wing." Zothos didn't speak directly to any of them but Falke.
Sam looked at Evan and motioned her eyes toward the plank. That was it. She was making a run for it. Evan nudged Dev. Dev nodded. Sam's gaze met Viktor's and Lucien's and made the same subtle gesture toward the ship. The both blinked twice in understanding. Rick was already sneaking his way up the plank. He'd be on standby at the cockpit, ready to run.
Sam was about to grab Falke and make a run for it, when her father beat her to it. He motioned and took Falke by the arm, leading him forward toward the castle. "Please, come, so I may introduce you. It would be my honor for you to receive the mark of my home."
Sam's lips pressed together as Falke was led away. She hesitated and then took a step toward the ship anyway. Blessed Stars! If her father liked him so much, let him send the man back home.
Evan must have sensed what she was about to do because he stepped forward to grab her arm. Yanking her next to his side, he walked after Falke and Gretori Zothos. He motioned for Dev to go and fetch Rick back down from the ship.
"We can make it," Sam whispered insistently.
"And leave Falke behind? Would you wish such a thing on him?" Evan asked. "You know what your father will do to him."
"I thought you didn't like him." Sam glanced up.
Evan's face was shocked. "I never said that."
"But--"
"Shh, your father's looking this way, Princess Xantha," Evan said, turning forward.
"You are so not funny," she hissed through the side of her mouth, pretending to look straight ahead. "Get the men ready to go. We're getting out of here just as soon as I can grab Falke."
"It is good that the Prince will have you, Xantha. After all, you've been alone on a ship with so many men," her father stated. His look held little pleasure. "It must be hard for you to come back here just for the coronation."
Sam looked up from the small delicate settee in her salon. She was in her old room. Everything billowed with intricate beadwork and embroidery. Every corner seemed to be filled with either furniture or decoration. It was lavish elegance, and she hated it. These were the walls of her childhood prison. She knew this was coming and wasn't surprised. Soon after she showed the men to their rooms, she'd felt her father calling to her and met him in her childhood room for a 'talk'. It would basically be him talking and her listening.
"You realize that you bind him for life?" Her father studied her. Sam nodded. "If you are not happy with your choice, my daughter, you should have stayed and minded your studies. You would have known how to stop it by recognizing the signs. Now it is too late. Only death will reverse it. Do you bring him here to kill him?"
Sam didn't speak. She wasn't expected to. Shaking her head in denial, she knew her father spoke the truth. He had no reason not to. He'd always been candid with her. She hadn't been sure of what she'd done until she saw Zothos' eyes. Looking back, she hadn't wanted to stop it even if she could have. She definitely wasn't going to kill Falke or herself to end it.
"According to the Ticara way, he is already your cythraul, my daughter," Zothos said.
Cythraul, the Ticara word for husband. Sam frowned.
"I am only half Ticara, father," she answered, her voice soft.
"Don't remind me," he grimaced.
"I am half human as well," she continued. "I lived my childhood as a Ticara, now I live my adulthood as a human."
Her father had loved her mother, a human woman, but she'd refused to stay with him and bend to his will. She didn't like the Ticara way any more than her daughter did. Sam never knew her, but for a few letters she'd written over the years. In her culture, her mother had given her the name Samantha for her grandmother. She'd always called her that. It was her plan that Sam come to stay with her on Earth if she so chose. A year before she'd be able to leave the palace, word came that her mother was dead. Sam left anyway.
"Why do you come here then?" he asked.
"To see you, my father. Just because I don't accept my role here, doesn't mean I turn away from you." Sam reached her hand out to touch him. He nodded, closing his eyes.
"You sound as your mother did," he stated, his tone flat. He cupped her face briefly, looking at his hand upon her cheek. Sam thought to see sorrow in him. Slowly, he stood. "Your fate is set, my daughter, as is Prince Falke's. The coronation is set for tomorrow. I will send your cythraul to you."
Sam flinched. It was like he hadn't even heard a word she said.
Princess. The word rolled around in Falke's head. The title was of no concern to him. The fact that Sam had tried to lie to him about it was. He remembered her denial when the computer called her, 'Your Highness'.
Falke glanced down at his arm, watching the strange magical symbol being placed there. The smooth hands of the artist ran an instrument over his flesh, puncturing it slightly. He was assured it was a mark of the royal house and would grant him passage into the palace and mark him as a friend to the race. The Ticara were born with their markings, to be given one with Ticara magic was a great honor. It was an honor that Falke didn't think to refuse. Maybe, if Sam saw he was willing to get it for her, she wouldn't be so hesitant to talk to him about herself more. He thought he knew her. But, looking around the lush palace she'd grown up in, he wasn't so sure.
Sam's, or should he say Xantha's, father seemed like a nice man, though different. Zothos loved his people and his ways. It was a trait Falke could relate to. When the artist finished, he was shown down a long hall by a servant. Everything was so quiet. No one spoke, not even amongst themselves, except for the most basic of answers. Falke began to miss the loudness of his family's hall and the laughter of his men. He even missed the sound of swords crashing on the practice field.
The slender servant stopped. His eyes darted nervously to Falke, and he wondered if his size was scaring the man. He tried to smile at him, but that only scared him more. The man pushed open the door and practically ran down the hall to get away.
The palace was nice. The decoration was overdone for his tastes, very feminine. It reminded him a little bit of his father's harem or the homes of his men that had been decorated by their wives. Stepping into the room, he shut the door and glanced around.
"Falke," Sam said, sounding relieved. He glanced over to her. She still wore the purple gown, only she tied the back of her waist length hair into a knot to keep it back. "What took you so long? Come on, we're getting out of here."
"Where?" he asked.
"The ship!" she insisted. "All the guys are ready to go at my signal."
"You would sneak off?" Falke asked, frowning. "From your family?"
"You can't possibly understand," she began. She swayed on her feet and caught herself. Sam's violet eyes rounded as she saw the white bandage on his arm. Slowly, she shook her head. "Is ... did you...?"
"I believe your father called it a cythraul mark," Falke said.
Sam's legs weakened and she sat down. She grabbed her head. "I'm sorry for my father. He thinks everything is about marriage and alliances. He probably thinks since you're a warrior race you'd be compelled to speed across the galaxy to help the Ticara out if ever they needed it."
"If it was in my power, I would," Falke said. "Or if you asked it of me."
"That will never happen," she snorted, seeming distracted. She rolled her eyes heavenward.
Falke grinned. This was the Sam he knew from the ship, despite the formal gown. "Do you truly wish to run from this?" Falke asked, sitting beside her. He rested his arm along her back.
"It's what I've been doing. If not for...." she stopped, giving him a guilty look.
"...for me, you wouldn't be here," he finished.
Sam thought about that. It didn't seem so bad right now with Falke sitting beside her. Yes, she'd come because of him. Not for money, like she'd told them all, but to confirm what she already knew. She'd bound herself to Prince Falke of the Var.
"Do you think I should stay?" Sam asked, feeling strangely compliant.
"What would change if you did?" Falke countered.
"My 'official' title here on Ticaron," she laughed. "They'd start calling me Princess Xantha all the time instead of just my father doing it."
"Would you be expected to do anything different?" he asked.
"The same things I'm expected to do now, but don't," she answered.
"You would have no added duties?"
"Not really," Sam said. "I'm a woman. Women here aren't given too many 'duties'."
"Then, what harm is there in making your father happy with his one request?" Falke's tone was low, reasonable, though not pressuring her to do one thing or another.
"When I left, it was to make a statement to my father. But, you're right. I guess it doesn't really matter. I'd be able to stop hiding from him and he'd be happy to have his tradition met." Sam sighed. "And, he'll probably give us the money for the fuel."
The door opened and Evan came in. Falke frowned at the intrusion. Sam instantly stood, seeing the look on his face. "We have to get you out of here."
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"Your father plans your coronation," Evan said.
"I know, its fine, Evan," Sam said. She smiled at him. "I'm going. What harm is there?"
"Damn it," Evan shot forward to grab her. Falke stood in his way. "What harm is there? Blessed Stars, Falke, was that bastard alone with her? Sam, was your father here yet?"
"Yes, we spoke," she answered, blinking in confusion. "It's fine. He's completely reasonable and understands."
"Blessed Stars! He's already done it. He's stolen your will, hasn't he?" Evan growled. He looked at Falke, and pleaded, "Don't you understand what is happening? He's drugged her. He's making her agree to anything."
Falke frowned, not believing him.
"Just watch." Evan looked at Sam. "Sam, honey, don't you think it would be a good idea if you, me, Rick, and Lucien all had sex together in the front hall before your father's table? And then afterwards, we could all dip ourselves in hot oil and boil to death?"
Sam looked worried. She glanced at Falke and then Evan. Her voice sounded perfectly normal, as she asked, "Do you think we should? It doesn't sound like a good idea to me."
"Oh, yeah, of course," Evan stated evenly, forcing a smile at her. He shot the Var Prince a meaningful glance. "I think it's a great idea, don't you Falke?"
"Oh," Falke hesitated. Then, sighing, he mumbled, "Yes. I think it an excellent idea."
"Oh, well, I do suppose it would make him happy if I did go to the hall. And it would give him an opportunity to meet my friends," Sam reasoned. Falke frowned. It was the exact same tone she'd used to reason that she should go to the coronation.
"What's going on?" Falke growled. He grabbed Sam's arm to keep her from moving toward Evan.
"I knew Sam wanted to leave, so I was getting the word to everyone. In between Viktor's and Lucien's suites, I heard Gretori Zothos telling one of his guards that he'd drugged his daughter with compliance and she wasn't to leave her room. He's used it on her before. It's not pretty. As every day passes, she'll be more and more accommodating. If not for someone tipping her off and giving her proof of what happens at the coronation, she'd be a zombie right now doing whatever her father and husband told her to do. I have no doubt that's what Zothos has planned. First this coronation, and then she'll marry who he tells her to--"
"You mean me," Falke stated flatly. Jealousy rose up inside him and he wondered if Evan was making this up to keep them from marriage. Looking at Sam's face, knowing she just agreed to put on a show in the hall and then kill herself, he believed the man spoke the truth. Even if she accepted him like that, Falke wouldn't want her hand forced into his.
"Sorry, friend, you'll be dead," Evan stated. He nodded at the bandage on his arm. "You're poisoned. My guess, you got until tomorrow night. Zothos wouldn't want to alarm her, or us for that matter, until after the ceremony. She'll marry Gretori Fenton, the man her father chose for her long ago. And from then on out, Fenton will be her lord and master."
Falke growled.
"Convince her she needs to go," Evan said. "I'm getting the others. I'm pretty sure Sam will know how to fix the poison once she's on the ship and thinking straight."
Evan left. Falke looked at Sam. She didn't look at all concerned by what was happening. He cursed himself for a fool for not realizing she wasn't herself. He was more concerned about her than the poison at the moment.
Easily, he convinced Sam that it was time to go. She agreed without any argument. It was amazing how the drug worked. She didn't look changed at all. Evan came back with the crew and it was decided they'd sneak out by way of Sam's high balcony. Falke grabbed Sam and tossed her over his shoulder, jumping down to the ground as the others climbed.
Falke set Sam on her feet. He touched her face lightly and she smiled, completely unconcerned as she did everything he said. Sprinting along the side garden, they headed into the forest. It was late and the planet was cast in darkness by the time they finally made it back to the ship. There were two guards standing by the loading dock.
The group stopped, staring at the ship from behind some bushes.
"I'll go," Dev stated.
"No," Falke answered low. "Let me."
"Both," Dev said.
Falke nodded and then said to Rick, "Grab my clothes."
Rick scrunched up his face and shook his head in denial. "You're cute and all Prince, but I'm not into that."
"Do you think he's cute?" Sam asked, looking at Rick.
"Not as cute as me," Rick whispered back. "You love me don't you, baby?"
"Yes," Sam said. "I suppose I do."
"Rick!" Evan hissed, punching him in the arm.
"Aw, come on," Rick laughed. "It's kind of funny."
Falke shook his head. Then everyone shut up as he shifted into tiger form. Their jaws fell open in amazement. He leapt out, roaring at the two men. Dev was right behind him. The guards stared in shock and then started running away in fright.
"Rick," Sam whispered. "I love you."
"I know, baby, all women do. Come on," Rick said. Sam threaded her arm in his and he led her to the ship.
"Damn it, Rick!" Evan swore, getting the Prince's clothing before running after them.
Viktor pushed a hidden button on the ship and the loading dock opened. Dev and Falke stayed down as they ran on board. Within moments the door was closed and Rick was doing his best to get them off the planet. Sam held his arm, making it hard to steer, as she murmured, "I love you, Rick."
"Someone get her off me!" Rick yelled, as he tried to break atmosphere. "I'd rather be long gone before her father discovers we're missing."
Falke came in. Seeing Sam, he pulled her into his arms. She smiled, blinking as she looked at him. "I love Rick."
"That's nice," Falke growled, glaring at Rick. Evan smacked the pilot over the back of his head. Rick chuckled.
"Get her to her room and lay her on the bed. I'll send the personal medic in there to give her a physical. It'll flush her clean," Evan said. Falke nodded and walked Sam back to her room.
When Sam awoke, Falke was by her side, sitting on the foot of the bed watching over her. She blinked, looking around her cabin. "How...?"
"You're awake," Falke said. The statement was oddly out of character for him and Sam briefly wondered at it. It wasn't like him to state the obvious.
"How did we get off ... were we on Ticaron?" Sam asked, blinking in confusion. Falke didn't speak and slowly everything came back to her. Closing her eyes, she said, "My father. I should've known when he touched my cheek it wasn't with affection. Thank goodness he didn't get me to the coronation."
"What would have happened if you had gone through with it?" Falke asked, and it was clear he'd been wondering about it for some time.
"I ... I'd be his. He'd have complete control over me, my complete and utter compliance. Everything that he wants me to do now, I'd be doing for the rest of my life. When I discovered what would happen to me during the coronation, I asked ... I found a ride off the planet." Sam took a deep breath.
"Then, why did we go there?" Falke asked. His eyes were shaded as he watched her. His lips were pressed firmly together. "And don't tell me for money. I know there was something else."
Sam was still fuzzy with sleep and she had a hard time thinking of a good lie. She picked at her cotton shirt, wondering who'd dressed her. Blushing slightly, she figured it was Falke. She yawned and scratched the back of her head. Her hair was cut off at the shoulders. "What happened to my hair?"
"I thought you'd be more comfortable with it shorter," Falke answered. "You seem to like it that way."
Sam smiled softly. "Thanks, I do."
"You didn't answer my question," Falke said. "Why were we on Ticaron?"
"Oh," she mumbled weakly, "I just had to see something."
"What?" Falke demanded. "To see if your father would try and bend you to his will again?"
"No, I already knew he'd try that. That's why I had Evan keeping an eye out for trouble," Sam answered, not meeting his steady gaze. "As soon as I heard him talking to you, I wanted to leave. He grabbed your arm before we could make a run for it."
"That still doesn't answer why you went."
"Just ... it's none of your concern," Sam stated. "I got what I needed and I'm never going back. It's done."
"I see," Falke answered. Sam wasn't sure just how much he did see.
"Is everyone...?" This time she did manage to look at him. He was so handsome. She loved his face, the strong line of his features. She loved the dark waves of his hair, the strength of his gorgeous body. Just seeing him made her hot and nervous. She wanted him, always wanted him. Her thighs tightened and her stomach tingled as longing built inside her.
"They're all fine." Falke stood from the bed. His eyes darted over her body and she saw his nostrils flare. His gaze darkened and she knew he detected her desire for him. Her cheeks colored.
"Your arm," Sam said in alarm, forgetting her embarrassment. "Let me see it."
Falke hesitated. "Evan said I'm poisoned."
Sam walked over to him on her knees. Peeling back the bandage gently, she gasped to see the green lines running out from the blue. "Evan's right. How long has it been?"
"We left last night. It's just past morning," Falke answered. Now that she studied him up close up, she saw he looked pale. "He said you could cure it."
Sam studied him carefully with renewed eyes. He was handling the prospect of being poisoned extremely well. In fact, if he hadn't let her see his arm, she wouldn't have been able to guess how far along the poison was just by looking at him. His face was the same emotionless mask it always was, his jaw tight. His rigid body was stiff and militant in its pose. She always took him for stoic and reserved, but how could she not have paid attention to the extent of it? He never really smiled or laughed outright. He chuckled, and his lips did curl slightly at the edges, but how could she have ever thought this man was smiling at her, laughing with her?
A thread of apprehension worked through her and she wasn't sure if she was afraid for him or of him. This was a hard man standing before her. She knew he was a warrior and the Commander of the Var Armies. By all the stars! She'd even felt the intensity of the pain he'd been in when she captured him. He'd never let on then either. But, until that moment, she'd never realized how hard of a life he must have lived, how hard his insides must be to survive such a life. When he was with her, he was strangely tender--oddly so now considering who he was.
Would such a warrior be capable of love, of caring? Or would he sacrifice everything to do his duty? The only passion she'd seen in him, outside of her bed, was when he spoke of his family--something that, in and of itself, was directly tied to his duty.
"Kiss me," she whispered, hesitant and not at all convinced that she wanted him to. Falke looked confused by the request, but leaned in to press his lips to hers. He kissed her lightly then pulled back. Sam trembled. She wanted, no needed, to know if he felt anything for her beyond lust. "No, kiss me in passion. Make love to me, Falke."
A small growl sounded in the back of his throat. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, parting his lips and sucking her between his teeth. Sam moaned softly, loving the feel of his powerful mouth. She trembled, feeling weak, wanting him so much. Surely a man who kissed like this felt something for her, even if only a little. He groaned as she thrust her tongue into his mouth, rolling it with his. His fingers lifted to her breast, massaging lightly. Desire pooled in her and she lifted her hand to the poisoned marking on his arm.
This time, when she took his pain, she knew what she was doing. She felt the poison draw into her hand. It stung and she felt a cold chill coming over her flesh, making her clammy. Her fingers gripped him tighter, her short nails digging into his flesh. Falke broke his mouth free and pulled back in question.
He looked at her. She tried to smile. They both glanced at her hand. The green lines drew out of his skin and into hers, winding up her arm like little snakes. They spread over her shoulder, beneath her shirt, and crawled up the side of her neck and face."Sam," Falke growled, sounding mad and helpless at the same time. He jerked his arm from her, but it was too late. She'd taken all the poison from him. The blue marking was still on his arm, but all the green was gone. Falling back on the bed, she stared up at him. Her skin turned blue and she shivered violently. "Sacred Cats, woman! What did you do?"
"I healed you," she said weakly. Her teeth nearly clattered together in between her soft words. "Tell Rick, Torgan. Get Evan. He'll ... know."
Falke watched as Sam's eyes closed and she didn't move. He was torn between the need to hold her and to do as she asked. Running out of the cabin, he was surprised to see Evan sitting in the hall across from the doorway, as if waiting for him. The man nodded, standing.
"I got it," Evan said, going into the room. Falke began to follow him. Evan turned and shook his head. "Give me a few hours."
Falke felt helpless and began to protest. Seeing the concern in the man's eyes, he nodded and backed away. As the door slid between them, he stood staring at it. He heard Sam scream and then detected the soft murmuring of Evan's voice. The screaming didn't stop and he couldn't stand listening to it. Blindly, he walked down the hall. Coming to the recreation room, he saw everyone there, gathered in silence.
Falke glanced at Rick, "Sam said to tell you Torgan."
"It's already done. We're on our way there now." Rick nodded. His face was unusually serious. "Should be there tomorrow."
"Is Evan with her?" Lucien asked. Falke nodded. "Good. He'll take care of it."
"Yeah," Viktor said, not sounding all that convincing. "Captain will be fine."
"Oh, sure," Rick said, trying to give Falke a lighthearted smile. "It's happened before. Evan will take care of it."
"Before?" Falke asked, not liking the sound of that.
Rick lifted his hand. "I was beat up pretty bad and left for dead by a contract killer of the Medical Mafia for not giving them a cut of my load when Sam found me."
"Lucien and I were strung up and whipped by some crooked law enforcement on Senthianick when Sam saw us," Viktor said.
"I was being crucified as a Devil by an Earth settlement on a Data Moon Base. My ship crashed. That's why Sam calls me Devil," Dev added quietly.
"And Evan?" Falke questioned.
"Evan's been with her the longest. He had it the worst," Viktor said.
"He stopped on Ticaron for an emergency resupply," Lucien explained. "Ticara are known healers, only they don't usually use their gifts unless it's for their own gain. His sister was sick and he sought help from Gretori Zothos. Sam's father locked them in a cell and took their ship as his own. Evan's sister died in his arms before Sam could get him out."
"Sam tried to save the girl after healing Evan," Viktor continued. "She was already weak and the Ticara can do nothing for the dead. It almost killed her to try. Evan watched after her for six months after, selling everything he had to take care of her and to hide her from her father's scouts. He'd been a rich man before that. Now he has nothing, like the rest of us."
"Except our lives, thanks to her," Rick stated, very serious. "That woman in there risked herself for each and every one of us--strangers at the time."
"Welcome to the club," Dev stated, nodding at Falke. "Your life now belongs to her as well."
"It belonged to her before this," Falke whispered, awed by the depth of her compassion for these men. The men looked at him and each smiled in acknowledgement, none of them saying another word.
Several tense hours later, Evan came trudging into the recreation room, his feet dragging on the floor. He nodded once at everyone's anxious looks, signaling that Sam was fine. A collective sigh came over the room. Evan fell into an oversized chair and let loose a long, tired breath.
Falke began to get up to leave. Evan made a small noise and shook his head. "Just let her rest. It's the best thing."
Viktor got to his feet and left. Moments later he came back with some food and set the tray down by Evan. Evan nodded gratefully and began to eat. When he'd taken a couple bites of a sandwich, he said, "Sam wants us to go on as planned. We need to get the cargo logged and separated according to the scavenger list. We also need to get prices set. Once we get to Torgan, we'll enter the competition and sell whatever we can for whatever we can get for it. Hopefully, it will be enough for fuel and a little extra to tide us over."
The men nodded in understanding.
"Rick, is there any place we can stop for the last item?" Evan asked. "It really would be better if we could have everything."
"I don't know of anyplace. We're so close to Torgan, I doubt anything we'd pick up would be too impressive to the judges," Rick answered.
The men nodded in agreement. One by one, the all glanced at Falke. Falke frowned, asking, "What?"
"A large white tiger would be impressive," Viktor said, pretending to study his hand. "Being as they're extremely rare."
"Yeah," Rick added. "Especially if he was particularly mean and growled a lot in his cage."
"I think we'd have a good chance at winning the prize," Evan said. He still looked weak, but he managed a mischievous smile.
Then, to everyone's surprise, Dev stated the ultimate manipulation. "Sam could really use the money. It'd be a shame to let the last year go to waste."
"Oh, yeah," Lucien agreed. "I mean, she sold all her jewels and valuables to fund the trip. She's broke now."
"Yeah, yeah, who knows what kind of job she'll have to get on Torgan," Rick said, nodding mournfully. "She's pretty. I'm sure she'll find something."
Falke sighed. "I'm not going up for sale."
"Oh, no," Rick said, grinning in excitement. "Just on display for a few hours until we can get you judged and back on the ship. We'll tell everyone that the Captain's taken a liking to you and plans on keeping you. They won't question it at all."
"I'll let Sam leash me. I'm not getting into a cage," Falke stated, grimacing.
"Ah, sorry, safety rules state you have to be caged," Lucien said. "And it will make you look more dangerous."
"I am dangerous," Falke stated under his breath.
"So, you'll do it?" Viktor's tone was hopeful.
Falke sighed again. He looked them each over in turn. "Yes. I'll do it."
The men cheered excitedly, jumping around in their chairs.
"We so have that contest beat!" Viktor cried.
"Blessed Stars! We're going to win for sure!" Lucien pounded his fist on the table.
Rick stood, announcing, "This calls for a drink!"
The room became deadly still. They all looked at Falke, remembered how they came about kidnapping him, and shook their heads. Laughing, they told Rick in unison, "Noooo!"
Falke spent the night in the recreation room on the couch. He didn't want to disturb Sam, no matter how much he desired to go to her. The next morning, when he went to check on her, he was surprised to find the door to her cabin open. Slowing his step, he heard Sam say, "And he agreed to it?"
"Yeah, I think he's doing it for you, Sam," Evan's voice answered. "He cares for you."
"No, he doesn't," Sam answered. Her voice was weak and Falke's heart lurched to hear her words. He couldn't move. "It was the same with you guys, remember. After I ... well, you know. You thought you were in love with me. You weren't and you realize that now. He'll realize it too soon enough. There is nothing between us."
"Sam...." Rick began.
"None of us shared your bed," Evan stated. Falke felt some pleasure in that statement but did his best not to get too smug.
"So, he's my lover," Sam answered, sounding indifferent. "That's all. Do you understand me? That is all. As soon as we get that prize money, we're sending him home. I might even be able to book him passage on another ship that's heading his way."
Falke felt his stomach tighten. She was going to get rid of him. Was she even going to bother telling him or just hand him a ticket and go along her merry way without giving him a choice? If he had a choice, what would he choose? He knew he had to go back. He missed his people and they needed them. If war broke out and he wasn't there.... Falke shivered. He didn't even want to think about that.
"Sam," Evan began.
"No, this isn't up for discussion. It's what I want," Sam answered, sounding cold and heartless. Anger and confusion poured through Falke. He wanted to scream, to fight, and in the end he did nothing but walk away. Inside, he felt dead. Sam didn't want him.
"No, this isn't up for discussion," Sam said, looking around at her crew. Her eyes were welled with tears, but she did her best to stay strong. "It's what I want."
There was a long silence. Evan broke it, saying, "It's not what you want."
"It is," Sam insisted, tears going down her face. "It is. It is. I don't want to trap him. He deserves his family. You should hear him talk about them. He'd never be content with our lives. Besides, he's never made me promises."
"What about your mark?" Evan demanded hotly. Sam blinked in surprise. She wore a tank shirt and all eyes turned to her arm in meaning.
"You ... know?" Sam asked, feeling dizzy. She was still lightheaded from her ordeal, but felt so much better. Evan had taken care of her many times and knew just how to help her recover after she healed someone. He'd helped her every time--except for the accidental time she had taken Falke's back aches. Though, then, she'd been too stunned to know she was bonding to the Var Prince to think to ask for Evan to come to her.
"Of course I know," Evan said. "I learned a thing or two about the Ticara while I was imprisoned."
"Know what?" Rick asked.
"Captain Samantha here is pregnant," Evan stated, "with Prince Falke's baby."
"Evan," Sam breathed. Her stomach knotted and she pressed a protective hand over her child. "How long have you known?"
"Since that morning in the dining hall. Your arm was covered, but you let your thoughts slip. I knew something was up." Evan sighed. "It's why I've been upset. Why did you think to keep that from me, from us?"
"I ... I don't know," Sam whispered, looking down at her pale hands. They were trembling and she clutched them together.
"You know we'd each follow you to the death. How could you not tell us about this? After all we've been through together?" Evan's eyes bore into hers.
"Does Falke know?" Rick demanded.
"No," Sam shot, her voice hard. "And you're all not going to tell him. I don't care what my marks say. If you tell him about the baby, he'll feel obligated to stay with me. I don't want to 'catch' a man like that. Falke is honorable and cares too much about family ties. If he knows I carry his child, he'll stay with me for the baby."
"But, Sam," Evan began.
"She doesn't want him to stay for the baby. She wants him to stay for her," Dev said softly. "Can you blame her? I say we do what she asks. It's not much, considering all she's done for us."
Slowly all the men nodded.
"If he decided to stay with me after I give him passage to leave, then I'll know he stays for me. Until then, let's just go about as if everything is normal." Sam pulled the covers off her legs, mumbling, "I'm going to take a bath."
"Hey," Rick said, suddenly grinning from ear to ear. "Do you know what this means?"
All eyes turned to him.
"We're going to be uncles!" Rick exclaimed.
Sam moaned lightly and walked toward the bathroom, doing her best to ignore them.
"Oh, yeah! I'm going to teach little Vik how to build things and I'm going to make him a cradle. He'll need a good cradle," Viktor said, excited. His face turned thoughtful. "I bet I could design it to give him feedings and to change his diaper."
"I would train him in combat," Dev stated, his voice gruff. His eyes turned to Sam, almost pained. No one but her noticed it. She shook her head, telling him to be quiet.
"Baby Lucien," Lucien stated, "will learn the great art of winning at poker."
"I'll teach baby Rick how to talk smooth to the ladies," Rick drawled, cockily nodding his head. "He's going to be a little Mac Daddy."
"A what?" Viktor asked. "Rick, stop talking. She is not naming the baby after you."
"I'm going to keep baby Evan away from Uncle Rick," Evan said. The men started to laugh, except for the stoic Dev.
Sam let the bathroom door glide shut behind her. She could still hear their joking muffled by the door. They were all so excited about the baby. She'd known they would be and that was why she never wanted them to find out. Once Falke left her, there wasn't going to be a baby.
Sliding down the door, she crouched on to floor and began to cry. Her sobs were silenced by a fist pressed into her mouth. Only when she heard the guys leave, did she pull herself up and step into the decontaminator.
"Where are we?" Sam asked, stepping into the cockpit. Rick glanced over at her and winked. A stupid grin was on his face as his eyes went to her stomach. Viktor and Lucien had looked at her the same way when she passed them in the corridor. She shook her head, sitting down in the copilot chair.
Rick reached over and pushed a button. The viewing screen came up. "Torgan's right there. I'm waiting for clearance to land just outside of Madaga. It's fairly close to the trading grounds."
Sam nodded. It was late evening for them, but where they were landing it was daytime--late morning to be exact. Looking at the three rings wrapped at odd angles around a brown-gray planet, she rested her head back against the chair. After bathing, she'd changed into a black jumpsuit with a silver belt. A holster wrapped around her thigh, though she didn't currently carry a weapon. Her hair was again short with the dark purple streak though the bangs. It gave her a harder edge and she didn't look as virginal and innocent as she did on her father's planet. She felt more like her old self too. "Where is everybody?"
"Down in cargo. They're...." Rick hesitated, chuckling.
"What?" Sam demanded.
"They're showing Falke his cage." Rick cleared his throat, looking almost embarrassed. "Viktor made a trick latch in one of the bars so he could get out if he needed to. They're making sure he can work it in shifted form."
Sam nodded. She wondered where Falke had gone. She hadn't seen him since she'd sucked the poison from his arm. Part of her expected him to be there when she woke up. She never imagined that he wouldn't come to her at all. The fact stung, but she refused to get worked up about it. Today was a big day and she needed to be on top of her game. In the market city of Madaga, there was no room for errors.
"Good," she stated, her voice calm.
"Bound Virgin, this is Torgan Ground," came a voice blaring over the intercom system.
Rick sat forward and pushed a button. "This is Bound Virgin, go ahead."
"You're cleared for landing, Bound Virgin," the voice stated. "Proceed directly to docking platform 9 9 12 and report to Dock Master Sintem."
"Thank you, Torgan Ground," Rick answered, lifting his finger. Moving his hand to another control, he pushed the ship's intercom. "Get ready for landing, guys. This one's always a little bumpy."
Rick turned to Sam and nodded at her belt. Rolling her eyes at him, she buckled herself in. Rick began landing procedures and she helped him by flipping a few switches. She knew how to pilot just as well as he--well, maybe not as well, but she was good. Rick just preferred to drive and she let him.
The planet's drab surface grew larger on the viewing screen. This was it. Sam took a deep breath, feeling both nervous and excited. It was finally time to see the culmination of the last year's hard work. And it was time to see if Falke would ask to stay with her. For without finishing her coronation and becoming a Princess he could marry, she would never be able to go with him.
Torgan docking platform 9 9 12 was an open clearing of cement. Rows of ships lined up in marked squares, packed snugly together to maximize the use of the docking lot. Rick went to check in with the Dock Master and to pay for their docking privileges. Sam knew that the Torganian market would make enough on docking fees to more than pay the prize money to the winners of the Scavenger Hunt. It was their way of drawing merchants with particular items of interest to their market, thus drawing many customers.
Sam slowly made her way down to cargo to see the crew. She took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the long day. When she got there, Falke was already shifted and in his cage.
Sam swallowed nervously, before looking around at the men, as she absently adjusted the gun strapped to her leg. "Are we ready to go?"
"It's all set," Lucien said. Giving a handheld unit to Sam, he said, "Here's a copy of the master list and what we have to do to fulfill the requirements. Also bargaining prices are listed. If anyone sells anything, we just enter it into the unit and everyone else will know. That way we can split up and work the crowds if we need to."
Sam nodded. "We need to make sure they know it's a bid price. That way if someone is willing to pay more, we get more."
The men agreed.
"And everything goes," Sam said. "All of it."
Falke roared. They chuckled softly.
Walking over to the cage, she stuck her hand in. To her surprise, Falke didn't touch her. He paced his cage. His rejection stung and she stood, feeling very hurt and a little sick. Quietly, she amended, "Everything but the Prince, of course."
"I don't know," Rick said, joining them. Lucien gave him a handheld. "He's kind of cute. I think I could sell him--ouch! Blessed Stars, Evan! Why have you got to keep hitting me? You're bruising the merchandise. I might be able to rent myself out to some lucky lady for spare cash."
"Come on, let's get started," Sam said amidst the laughter. Viktor walked to open the cargo doors and everyone began unloading.
The Torganian city of Madaga was a dusty spot, with adobe style businesses built up of the brown-gray earth right next to larger complexes of metal and glass. The main compound, where Sam and her crew were directed to set up for inspection, was inside one of the largest buildings. On the surface, it looked like a legitimate trading center. For those who knew what to look for, it was a virtual black market of fenced goods and tawdry services. If it was illegal and sought after, chances were it could be found here.
The crowd was the usual mix of humanoids and other beastly creatures. Some looked like human males with only minor differences, like strange protrusions or ripples of flesh on their faces and bodies. Others were hairy, with long arms and massive chests. There were those with the skin of reptiles, large black horns, or flesh of many colors. Some had wings. Some had webbed fingers. Every disreputable low life creature imaginable came to Madaga--pirates, crooked businessmen, slave traders, bounty hunters, guns for hire--to mix with the rest of the crowd. This was no easy place and Sam planned to stay close to Dev the whole time.
Viktor, Lucien, and Rick were by the cargo, guarding their spot. The last she'd seen, Rick was standing on top of a crate over the compound, arms folded, looking incredibly sinister and mean. Evan and Dev were helping her push Falke's cage. The pacing white tiger drew a lot of attention from the crowd as it parted to let the group by. They passed near a round bar in the middle of the building, surrounded by tables. Several men were already drinking, maybe still going from the night before.
"Don't forget," Sam whispered, leaning close to Falke. "Act really mean for the judges. If they try to touch you, swipe at them."
Falke growled at her, roaring so loud she jumped back as he made a move to strike at her through the bars. He almost hit her too. Sam's eyes rounded, hurt by his brutal attack. Several of the nearby men started to laugh.
"You need some help with that creature, sweetheart?" a man with formed brown ridges on his face called. "Perhaps a real man to protect you from the mean ol' monster?"
"Like you're a real man," Sam grumbled under her breath.
"Don't worry, darling! Come over hear and I'll let you tame my beast! It'll only hurt for a second!" The man was so hairy she could barely make out features. Large flying insects buzzed around his greasy head. The scary thing was that Sam thought he might actually be a human male.
Sam's eyes then met the dark gaze of a stranger. His long black hair spilled over his back, pulled up and back at the temples in braids to keep it from his face. He lounged in a chair tipped back on its back legs. By her guess, he was human male, or in the very least a humanoid. Black tattoos marked up one of his arms, the symmetrical pattern disappearing up his sleeve only to peek out of his collar by his neck. He was dressed in a loose, white, linen shirt, rolled at the sleeves, and tight black pants. His calf boots were polished to a high gleam as they rested up on the table. Their eyes met briefly as she got a full glimpse of him. He scared her more than the blustering idiots to his side offering to show her a good time. He lifted his cup to her in acknowledgement, before slowly drawing it to his lips. Sam shivered and quickly turned away.
At the continued ruckus, Dev grabbed her wrist and held it up high. He jerked her roughly to his side and set his black eyes on the two who dared speak. In a gravelly voice that was truly demonic, he growled, "If you want to barter for my property, you best come prepared to pay. Otherwise, leave her be."
The onlookers laughed as both suitors lifted their hands and shook their heads in denial. They turned back to their own discussions. Dev dropped Sam's arm and said no more. Evan continued to push the cart, pretending like he didn't care either way.
Sam didn't care that Dev had just called her property. It was quite possible he'd saved them all from a fight. She glanced at Falke whose blue eyes were narrowed. What was wrong with him? Why was he so angry with her? Her heart broke a little at his distance. She was sorry the guys had asked him to do this. He shouldn't have said yes if he was this angry about it. They never meant for him to be degraded.
They rolled the cart to where they'd set up their cargo. There were already judges looking over what they'd brought. The two round, blue creatures were nodding over a string of large Phlio red pearls and talking amongst themselves. The strange clicking noises they made were only slightly abrasive to humanoid ears.
Sam took a deep breath, watching Falke pace. He really did look livid. He was beginning to scare her and she really hoped it was all just an act. She couldn't wait until it was over and she could finally talk to him.
They pushed Falke into place and backed up. Sam motioned Rick down from his perch. He jumped to her side. Looking nonchalant, she inquired, "Well?"
"They scolded us for being late," Rick answered.
Evan crossed his arms and stood to Rick's side, pretending to survey the crowd as they talked. Dev moved possessively close to Sam, touching his arm to hers. Falke roared, drawing a lot of curious eyes.
"Other than that," Rick continued, "it looks to be going well. They've been looking at those damned pearls for a long time. I think we could win if we offered to make them a ... gift."
"Evan," Sam said. "Try to get a reading. See if it will work. Just in case."
Evan nodded and made his way close to the judges. He pretended to study an unambiguous, sexual enhancing artifact from the Zenni District. The judges glanced at him and then the pearls. Evan smiled slightly in acknowledgement. They finally set the pearls down and moved on.
"Everyone wants a piece," Rick chuckled. "Lucien and Viktor are already taking bids. We hope to be rid of almost everything by the time the judges are finished looking at it."
Sam saw the disturbing man from the bar looking at her. He was standing nearby at a competitor's cargo area. When she acknowledged him, his dark eyes moved to the cage that held Falke. She shivered. "Yeah, get rid of what you can as soon as the judges say they're done. I don't like the look of the crowd here today. I'm getting a bad feeling."
"It's just this place that makes you feel that way. That and you're so cute," Rick teased. "The guys can't help but stare at you."
The judges worked their way to Falke and were looking at him in admiration. They went to touch his bars and he roared, putting on a great show of fury. The judges backed away, nodded their heads frantically. Sam hid her smile.
"It's working," she whispered, her voice excited though she tried to keep the pleasure out of her face. "He's doing it."
"Yeah--" Rick gasped, stopping suddenly to stare. "Oh, baby, come to Rick."
Evan joined them and they all turned to follow Rick's eyes. A group of Galaxy Playmates walked by, surrounded by some very large, very mean looking bodyguards. Men began whooping and hollering at them. The women giggled and waved like superstars. Sam's mouth fell open. They were hardly wearing a decent stitch of clothing amongst the dozen of them.
"I didn't know they were performing here," Evan said, swallowing. His head tilted to the side as he stared at a lush backside wiggling beneath a transparent robe. The black haired woman wore a thong. The robe was bare along the back and only covered her breasts in the front with a thin strip of fur.
"Ah, Cap, you have to let us take something for trade, like ... maybe ... ah...." Rick began, looking at their cargo. His eyes moved back to the women and he too swallowed.
"Don't you even think it, Rick. Those super sluts are how we got into this mess in the first place," Sam growled, hitting his arm. Rick flinched, but couldn't take his eyes off the brigade of sexy women.
Sam saw that Evan and Rick weren't the only ones. Falke was even turned in the direction, but at least he was growling--even if she thought it was more of a low seductive sound than an actual roar. She reached forward to hit his cage in a jealous fit when Dev caught her arm and jerked her back. She blinked in surprise at her own actions.
"What if we win?" Rick asked, swallowing. "Can we ... go ... oh, baby, that's nice when you walk like that. Can we go see them, Sam, please?"
"Fine," Sam growled. She glared at Falke and tried to calm herself. He wasn't looking at the women anymore, but she was still irritated by it. "If we win and sell everything you guys get one night on your own. But no siphoning fuel this time, you hear me? Once you're out of the space credits I give you, you're done. And make sure you have your shots up to date. I don't want you coming back diseased and leaking green ooze. That's one thing I won't help you out with."
Rick grinned, slapping Evan on the back. "See, buddy! That's why I love her!"
"Interesting specimen you have here."
Sam turned to the cage. The low voice was full of appreciation. The man who'd been silently watching her since the bar stood admiring Falke. His linen sleeves rustled as he lifted his arms over his chest. He was well built, handsome in a very roguish sort of way. Falke was bigger, but this man could definitely hold his own. Sam felt her stomach knot. She had the strangest urge to reach for Falke, wanting his comfort, but held back.
"How much?" the man asked, lifting his eyes from the tiger to them.
"He's already spoken for," Sam answered, wishing her voice held a harder edge.
The man nodded. "I can pay more--much, much more. I know someone who'd just love to have him."
"He's spoken for like the lady said," Dev repeated. "No sale."
"I thought you said she was property," the man asserted, smiling a cocky grin that lit his face in amusement. Sam narrowed her gaze on him. He was up to something.
Dev merely smiled back coldly, not answering.
"I see," the man turned to Sam and smiled. "You won't reconsider?"
"Nope," Sam stated. "Sorry. He's taken."
"Very well." The man gestured his hand lightly, uncrossing his big arms. He looked at the tiger and then back again. "Better luck next time."
Sam nodded. She didn't like the hidden meaning in his eyes when he studied her. The man turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
"Keep an eye out for that one," Sam ordered. "I don't like the looks of him."
The men nodded and Sam's attention was distracted by a group of Pothinians wanting to bargain over blue slime. The slime was a hard sell so Sam let them have it for twenty five credits. The judges finished their tallying and left. After that, more people came by and there was hardly time to stop, let alone talk to the rest of her crew. Sam kept an eye on Falke in his cage, feeling guiltier about keeping him trapped as minutes slipped into hours.
Falke paced around in his cage. It wasn't hard to act mean and angry. He was feeling mean and very, very angry. Looking at Sam, he roared loudly. She was going to up and leave him as soon as this was over. He meant nothing to her, nothing at all. She'd made that perfectly clear when talking to her crew, her friends. Somehow, Falke wasn't satisfied to leave it at that.
Falke walked in a small circle, only to come back round to look at Sam. She was talking to a very thin, reedy couple covered in shining gold. They'd been at it for nearly four hours by his estimation and seemed to be doing fairly well. She'd spent all day avoiding him, not that he could blame her after the swipe he'd taken at her earlier. His anger helped the day go faster, even if it was passed inside a cage
Falke took a deep breath and let it out. It wouldn't be much longer now. Soon he'd be free and Sam would be in his complete control. She thought to get rid of him. Well, he had a little surprise in store for her. Like it or not, she was going home with him.
Sam and her crew worked all day, selling their goods. Almost everything was gone by the time they were ready to finish up and Evan was sent with Rick to purchase fuel. Sam didn't trust Rick with their money--not when the Galaxy Playmates had been led by several times during the day as an enticement. She'd like to think that he would behave himself. Well, she'd like to have thought Rick and Viktor wouldn't have siphoned their fuel in the first place.
The original plan had been to cart Falke back to the ship, let him shift, and then finish the sale. It seemed, however, that he was the big draw to their merchandise and it was impossible to break away and cart him back. Several times Sam caught his eyes on her, studying her, glaring. She was almost afraid to approach him and asked Rick to see if he minded staying longer. When Rick came back, he shrugged, and answered, "I think he said he didn't mind."
Now, as their cargo load was nearly depleted and the market hall was beginning to clear of the main crowd, Sam took a deep breath. She walked over to Falke's cage and hesitated, before stepping closer. "How you doing in there, Falke?"
Falke snorted and lowered his head. He bared his teeth, his lip curling up.
"That good, huh?" she asked, laughing weakly. She decided to pretend like nothing was amiss with him.
Falke snorted again.
"Thank you for doing this," she whispered. Sam took a deep breath. "We appreciate it."
"Sam," Dev said. "I think I just got rid of the last of it. We can get out of here, just as soon as everyone settles with us."
"How'd we do?" she asked.
"Fair. Better than we estimated," Dev answered.
Sam glanced at Falke and took a step away from him, drawing Dev with her. When they were out of earshot, she asked, "Do we have enough to buy Falke passage home?"
"You haven't changed your mind?" Dev asked. "You know what happens to the baby if...."
"Yes, I know. And no, I haven't changed my mind," Sam said. "I've given it a lot of thought and it's best for everyone."
Dev touched Sam's arm where her mark was covered by her sleeve. "But, it's not what is best for you."
"Dev, do we have the extra credits or not?" Sam insisted, not wanting to discuss it--not now and probably not ever. "I'd rather just get it over with now, but if I have to, I'll bring him back and drop him off. So tell me, please. Can we buy the passage?"
"Yes," Dev stated honestly, though he didn't look happy doing so.
"Good." Sam sighed and fidgeted with her hands. A tremor of pain washed over her to hear it. She'd been silently wishing she'd be forced to spend more time with Falke. Only, in the end, she knew it would make it harder on herself. No. For her sanity, she needed to get away from him. She needed to be allowed to heal. "Now, if they'd just get those blasted hunt results out, we'd be free to go."
"Viktor scoped the competition earlier when he worked the crowd. He says we only have a few of them to worry about. Only three of us had completed lists," Lucien said, coming up beside them. He was soon distracted as he went to exchange merchandise for credits as more creatures came to claim their items.
"I wonder what's taking Rick and Evan so long," Sam said. She glanced at Dev. "You don't think they got sidetracked, do you?"
"I doubt it," Dev said. "Look, Viktor just got back. Let's get Falke to the ship and out of that cage."
"All right," Sam answered. Looking to the side, she saw Evan and Rick coming toward them. When they were close, she called, "Taken care of?"
"Yep." Rick grinned. "What? Didn't trust us?"
Sam snorted. Rick and Evan chuckled. They looked mildly guilty and she didn't bother asking about it.
"I see he's still here."
Sam turned, seeing the dark haired man standing before Falke's cage. She shivered, wondering how long he'd been there.
"Not for long," Sam said. She motioned for the guys to help her with Falke. Their cargo was completely empty, except for the red pearls, which Rick stuffed in his pocket. Dismissing the man before he would say more, she said, "Enjoy your evening."
"I certainly will," he murmured back.
"I certainly will."
Jarek watched the woman walk away from him with his brother in the cage. He'd been waiting for their arrival and was a little surprised to see them carting Falke in his shifted form. It didn't matter. Jarek recognized him instantly.
He'd hoped the woman would be willing to sell Falke to him. It would save a fight. Falke seemed determined that he take her as a prisoner. He wondered what had happened to make the Commander so angry at the woman.
Looking her over, he nodded in manly appreciation. She was pretty, slender. Though she was dressed tough, she looked as if she would be completely feminine once she was stripped of her clothing. Too bad she was the villain in this little scenario. Otherwise, he'd have turned on the charm instead of the intimidation.
Motioning lightly, he signaled his men that it was time to go. Staying well behind Captain Samantha and her crew, he worked his way into the crowd. A few of his men were already by her ship, awaiting his orders. If all went well, they'd be out of Torganian space in less than an hour.
Sam stopped, as they approached their ship. She felt a tingling over the back of her neck, making her skin crawl. Her hand automatically went to the weapon at her side, unhooking it from the strap. It took a moment for the men to realize she stopped walking. They turned their back on Falke to look at her.
Seeing her pale face, Evan demanded, "Sam, what is it?"
"My father is near," she whispered. "I feel him. He's here."
"Come on," Dev said. "Let's get to the ship."
Sam nodded. She didn't draw her weapon but left it easily accessible, her hand hanging down by her thigh.
"Damn," Sam hissed. "I should've known he'd send someone, but I had no idea he'd come himself. He must really be pissed this time."
As they approached the ship, Sam glanced around. Viktor pushed the hidden button to bring down the docking plank. They didn't watch as the plank lowered. Instead, they looked around at the nearly abandoned lot for signs of movement. A thud sounded and Sam jumped. Two dead bodies came rolling down the docking plank. They were large, dark men that Sam didn't recognize, and they'd been stabbed in the back.
"My daughter," Zothos said, stepping down behind the bodies with two of his guard. The guards were fully armed, their pistols aimed right at her chest. She felt a chill wash over her as she glanced up. Her father's arms were crossed in anger as he looked at her. "It's time to end this foolishness and come home. Your rightful place is at Fenton's side. It will join his house to mine."
"No," Sam whispered, her hand trembling. She felt bile in her throat, as she glanced to the dead bodies. "What have you done? What is this?"
"If you will not come peacefully," Zothos said. He glanced down at the dead bodies. "Then we will finish your crew and simply make you obey."
Sam blinked, confused. She didn't know the two men on the ground, had never even seen them. With little time to think about it, she saw her father motioned his men to shoot.
Falke roared, bursting from his cage. Chaos ensued and everything seemed to happen at once. Sam dived behind the cage's meager shelter as a bullet whizzed by her arm. She drew her weapon. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Dev and the others race behind a lowered flap of another vessel for protection.
Dev shot, hitting one of her father's men in the chest. The guard fell to his knees, grasping his wound. Falke pounced on the other guard, ripping his throat with a slash of his claws. Zothos lurched down, taking a weapon from the shot guard's hand and aimed at Falke.
"No!" Sam yelled. She aimed at her father and fired without stopping to think. At the same time she hit him in the chest, another bullet hit him in the head. The dark stranger came leaping out of nowhere. She began to nod her thanks when he turned his gun on her. His eyes darted to the dead men on the bottom of the plank and she saw outrage flicker across his features.
Falke left the dead guard and ran to the dark man's side. She saw blood matting the fur of his right paw. She waited for him to attack and was shocked as he merely stood beside the dark stranger, looking at her. Sam glanced to her father, stunned to see him dead, and just now realizing that she'd shot him.
Behind the wing, Dev watched with the crew. His eyes narrowed to see that Falke was unafraid of the second set of attackers. Rick tried to surge past, gun drawn. Dev grabbed his arm.
"They won't hurt her," he hissed.
"What?" Evan demanded, just as ready to go himself. "How do you know?"
"Falke knows him," Dev said.
"So," Evan exclaimed. "We can take them! Come on!"
At the sound of his voice, the man beside Falke looked in their direction. Evan fired a shot and missed. Rick and Lucien each fired one a piece and managed between the both of them to clip the man's shoulder.
"Sam!" Evan yelled. She wasn't paying attention as she stared at her dead father.
"Let her get captured," Dev stated. "She needs to go with Falke."
"Like hell," Evan began, swearing darkly.
"If she's separated from him, she'll lose the baby," Dev hissed. "She needs his energy if she's to carry it to term."
The men paled, instantly understanding. Their face lit with horror as they realized that Sam was going to give up her child to do what she thought was best for Falke. Knowing Sam, losing Falke would destroy her. Losing Falke and her baby would kill her.
Their opportunity to save Sam passed, as the dark haired man grabbed her to his chest and pointed a pistol at her head. He walked backward with her. Falke was right next to his side, growling strangely.
"Damn it," Rick swore, helpless. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"
"What do we do?" Lucien asked, panicked.
"Blessed Stars!" Viktor swore.
"Well, I'm not letting her go alone," Evan hissed. He stood up and dropped his gun. Lifting his hands behind his head, he stepped forward. The other crewmen did the same. "I surrender. Don't hurt her."
The dark haired man looked confused at Evan's words, but he nodded. He loosened his grip on Sam and motioned to his men to grab her crew. Evan, Viktor, Lucien, and Dev let themselves get taken, showing only mild resistance.
"Damn it!" Rick yelled, before doing the same.
Sam blinked, wondering what Evan was up to. He could've taken these men. He could've fought. She'd seen him win against worst odds. The hold on her loosened and she took the opportunity to hit her captor in the gut with her elbow. The man grunted and she escaped. She made a move to run and stopped as she almost tripped on Falke. He roared viciously and she took an instinctive step back. The man caught her again and this time, he placed an arm around her throat as he dragged her past her ship.
Sam struggled, but it was of no use. The man was too strong to break away from. He wasn't really hurting her with his hold, just scaring her. She saw Falke moving from the corner of her eye before seeing the lifeless gaze of her father. The big red patch on his chest caught her eye and she stopped moving. What had she done?
Sam grew nauseous and began to shake. "Let me go."
The man ignored her and she realized she was whispering. He couldn't hear her.
"Let me go!" she yelled, kicking with renewed force. "I can save him. Let me go!"
A hand reached around her with a cloth. She shook, trying to get away as it closed in on her. Her captor wouldn't let go, as the hand pressed the cloth to her mouth. She tried to hold her breath, tried to resist, but couldn't. Taking a big gulp of air, she felt blackness consume her. She tried to fight it, but in the end she fell limp against her captor's hold.
Falke sat next to Jarek in the cockpit, watching as the planet of Torgan became a tiny speck on the viewing screen. He was naked from shifting, but neither one of them paid any attention to it. Jarek's ship, The Conqueror, was a lot bigger than the Bound Virgin and sleeker in design. It also looked newer than Sam's ship. Falke noticed that the take off was as smooth as silk and was very impressed by his brother's piloting abilities.
Sam and her crew were locked away in the only cell the ship had. Falke hadn't dared to look at her since her capture, not sure what he'd do or say. He needed to stay clear of her for now. He needed his head to be level.
Jarek pressed the button for autopilot and stood up. Falke watched him, unbuckling to do the same. He stretched his arms, a little sore from being cramped in the cage all day pacing.
"You haven't said a word," Jarek said, glancing at him as he hit a few more switches. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," Falke answered. He knew his voice was hard, but he couldn't help that now. His stomach was in a tight knot. Sam was his prisoner and there was no way for her to escape him. The thought should've made him happy. It didn't. In fact, he felt miserable. He'd never wanted their relationship to come to this. Though, he didn't miss the irony of the fact he now held her behind bars, as she had him.
"Who were those other men shooting at you?" Jarek asked. He motioned Falke to follow him as he left the cockpit for the adjoining corridor. Bright light lit their way, running in intermediate strips like arches along the walls and overhead.
"Captain Samantha's father," Falke answered. "My guess is that they thought to bring her back to her home planet."
"By the stars," Jarek swore, "you're saying she shot her own father?""It would appear that way," Falke answered, coldly. Had he not known she did it only to protect herself, and not to save him, he'd have been elated by her loyalty. As it was, he knew she just didn't want to go back to a life of drugged compliance.
"What exactly is going on here?" Jarek demanded. Stopping in the metal corridor, he whirled around to look up at Falke and frowned. They were close in size, but Falke was still taller and broader. "I don't get it. You growl on and on in your cage, asking me to capture your kidnapper instead of just freeing you like I had planned. So I'm thinking, this lady is a real piece to have gotten my brother so worked up. Then, I find out she's killed her own father to protect you? What am I missing?"
"It's not your concern," Falke said. He didn't want to discuss it. What was done was done.
"I have a right to know. I lost two good men out there, two friends. Triz and Grag are going to be hard to replace." Jarek ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Am I right? Did she kill her father to protect you? Is there something between the two of you?"
"She didn't kill him to protect me. She killed him to protect herself," Falke answered. His eyes narrowed, but he knew it wasn't Jarek he was mad at. He was mad at Sam, at himself, at their whole damned situation. He hated her for not loving him.
"So there is nothing between you?" Jarek asked, shading his expression. "Then you wouldn't mind if I pay her a little visit? I've been a long time at space, brother. I have need of a good woman to slake me."
Falke growled and lunged. Jarek obviously was prepared for that reaction because he jumped to the side to avoid the blow aimed for his face. Falke managed to grab his shirt. Throwing Jarek up against the wall, he growled darkly, "You'll not touch her. No one will touch her. She's carrying my son!"
Jarek blinked in surprise. His mouth dropped open in shock. Realizing his brother had merely provoked him into the confession, and had no real designs on Sam, Falke let him go and stepped back.
"I'm sorry," Falke murmured. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It felt strange to have said the words out loud. It made them feel real. Sam was pregnant with his child and she was going to send him away without even telling him about it. The agony of it burned through him. How could she do that? How could she just take part of him like that and then not tell him? He knew she knew about the baby. Part of him had hoped she didn't truly know. Part of him hoped that once he told her about it, she would fall into his arms, begging him to take her home with him.
Do we have enough to buy Falke passage home? Her words replayed themselves in his head. She hadn't known he could hear her, as she crept away from his cage. Var had excellent hearing though and it hadn't been too hard. He could still see her face--so detached as if she spoke of the weather or the thinning crowd of the Torganian marketplace.
You haven't changed your mind? Dev had asked her. The rest of what he'd said had been lost as a noisy group of elfish beings passed, but Falke had caught a little of it. You know... the baby if....
Yes, I know. And no, I haven't changed my mind, Sam had said. I've given it a lot of thought ... do we have the extra credits or not? I'd rather just get it over with now, but if I have to, I'll bring him back and drop him off....
Falke swallowed. It was perfectly clear. She had no intention of telling him about her pregnancy. She didn't care at all. He wondered if she even wanted his child, if she would even love the baby once it was born. A child didn't seem to fit into her life style and he'd be damned if his son was raised in a spaceship, cruising around space without a care in the world. He wanted his son to know him, to know of his proud Var heritage. He wanted him to learn duty and responsibility.
An ache settled where Falke's heart used to be. Or did Sam plan to do the unthinkable? Did she want to rid her body of his son? Would she kill his child rather than bear it? Falke wouldn't let that happen. He would take her to Qurilixen and lock her away until she gave birth. Then he would release her. The child would be his to raise and he would be a good father to him.
"Your son?" Jarek repeated, awed, bringing Falke back to the present. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."
Falke nodded. He had nothing to hide from his family. Glancing down at his naked form, he asked, "First though, you wouldn't happen to have something that would fit me, would you?"
Jarek sighed and glanced to where the guard's blood still stained Falke's hand. "I'll find you something to wear. I've got a room all ready for you. I'll take you there so you can get cleaned up while I get you something to eat. Then, you can explain to me exactly what's going on here."
Falke nodded and Jarek led him down the hall. "Have someone feed Sam, would you?"
"Of course," Jarek answered, nodding. "She's carrying my nephew."
The words were said with pride and Jarek grinned.
"Thank you," Falke said, suddenly very tired.
"By the way, it's good to see you again, brother," Jarek said. "It's been too long of a time."
"It's good to see you too," Falke answered. "Thanks for coming to get me."
Sam awoke in the prison hold of a ship. Beneath her she felt the hard press of a metal cot. Her eyes took in the long beam of the ceiling. Looking around, she saw the room wasn't very spacious. Her eyes met with the glaring looks of her crew. They were on the opposite end of the small square room, crowded together as if they couldn't stand to be next to her. Sam pushed up from the cot, quickly sitting up.
"What's going on here?" she asked, yawning.
Viktor looked to the floor, avoiding her eyes. Dev said nothing, just stared forward in silence. Rick snorted and shook his head in disgust. Lucien sighed, a terribly angry sound that said more than words ever could. Evan merely looked like she'd torn the heart from his chest.
"What?" Sam demanded. She instantly wanted to cry. They'd never looked at her like that. Why were they mad at her? What had she done? Did they blame her for the capture? Blinking back tears, she trembled. "Are ... are you blaming me for getting us caught?"
Silence.
Sam swallowed. "Because you didn't have to give yourselves up. I think he planned on only taking me."
More silence.
"I think Falke knows him, might even have somehow planned it with him," Sam continued. She tried to look them each in the eye, willing them to talk to her. Evan finally broke their silence.
"Were you going to tell us about the baby?" Evan demanded.
"Tell you...? I told you about it," she whispered. "I told you I was carrying."
"Not everything," Evan said. "You didn't tell us that once Falke was out of the picture the baby would ... no longer exist. You were just going to let us send him away."
Sam swallowed. Oh. That's what this was about. She turned to glare at Dev.
"Oh, no," Rick shot. "You'll not blame him for telling us. You should've been the one to tell us, Captain. We made an agreement, all of us, to be always honest. How dare you make us have a part of that!"
"Oh," Sam defended. "And you guys were so friggin' honest when you stole our fuel! I seem to remember finding out about it several months after the fact!"
"That's not the same thing!" Viktor yelled, jumping to his feet. He pointed viciously at her. His pale face was red with outrage.
Sam shot to her feet. The idea of a good brawl made her blood pump violently in her veins. The stress she'd been living under worked within her, building her anger. If they wanted to fight, oh, she'd fight.
"It is the same thing!" Sam yelled back. "You were talking about honesty!"
"We're talking about you and your unborn child," Evan stated, his voice not raising more than an octave. He too stood to face her.
"I," Sam began. The way Evan was looking at her, with disgust, she felt like she'd been slapped. Some of the fight drained from her limbs and she sunk onto the cot. "It's not what you think. I'm Ticara. I'm not like other humanoids. It's not really a baby yet, not yet, not until Falke.... It's just the beginning of a baby, the possibility. It doesn't exist yet, not really."
"Keep telling yourself that," Evan spat.
"What's going on here?"
Sam gasped noisily in surprise as the low voice scared her. She turned to the metal door. The little view window was pulled aside and the dark haired stranger peeked in.
"Who are you?" She demanded.
"Prince Jarek, among other things," Jarek said, smiling, "I'm Falke's younger brother. Now, what's going on in here? What's all the yelling about?"
"It's none of your concern," Sam answered, her tone hard. She waited for the men to back her up. It never came.
"We'd like an audience with Prince Falke," Evan said. He turned his menacing gaze at Sam. "Without her."
Sam gasped.
Jarek looked them over and nodded. "Very well. I'll ask him."
The viewing door shut and a small bottom door opened. Jarek pushed a tray of food inside and then shut that door as well. Sam looked at the tray and then at the men. No one moved to touch it. Curling her body into a ball, she turned sideways on the cot and leaned her head against the wall, doing her best to ignore them.
After speaking to his brother and telling him everything--well, nearly everything--that had happened with Sam, Falke went to bed. Jarek told him that one of the men requested an audience with him, without Sam's presence. He knew they probably just wanted to negotiate their release and didn't want her in harm's way. He didn't care. He wasn't up to seeing her just yet.
The room his brother provided was satisfactory. It lacked the character of Sam's quarters, as it was rectangular in design and constructed of mostly metal. However, the bed was comfortable and there was enough space to move around in. A small decontaminator was built in, adjoining the room. Whoever designed it didn't have a big man like him in mind and it was a cramped fit. Oh, how he missed his large water tub, or even bathing outside in a stream.
Resting on the bed, all he could do was think of Sam--her violet eyes, her sweet smell. Even as he tried to hate her, he couldn't fully. She was inside him, haunting him, and he knew he'd never be free of her. Just remembering her scent, his body stirred. It didn't seem such a long time since they last were together, but to Falke it was an eternity.
Reaching down, he grabbed his hard shaft and slowly began to stroke. Sam's smile danced before his closed eyes. He heard her voice, moaning his name. He saw her violet eyes flashing with passion for him. Her lush lips parted, readying to kiss him, to take his arousal into her mouth. Falke's hand moved faster, squeezing harder. When he came, spilling his hot seed on his stomach, he frowned. His body was released, but it just left him feeling empty. Without Sam, he might never feel whole again. In that moment, he realized he might not ever be able to let her go, even after the child was born. To do so would likely kill him.
Falke looked at Evan as he was led into the room. The man wasn't restrained. Falke knew he wouldn't need to go that far. He'd allowed that one man could come speak to him as a representative of the whole. He was a little surprised to see Evan had volunteered. He'd always gotten the impression that the man didn't like him because of his feelings for Sam. Falke had expected Dev.
"May I sit?" Evan asked, motioning to the chair across the dining table from Falke. Falke nodded once. Evan sat. He leaned on the tabletop with his elbows, studying his hands. Falke waited patiently for him to speak. When Evan finally turned his eyes up to look at him, he seemed to struggle with himself before bluntly saying, "Sam's pregnant. It's yours."
Falke nodded, hiding his surprise at the man's words. It was the last thing he expected Evan to say to him. "I know."
"She told you?" Evan asked, gasping in shock.
"No," Falke answered. "She didn't have to. I knew the moment the baby was conceived."
"Oh," Evan said, nodding his head as if that made more sense.
"Did she send you here to tell me that?" Falke asked. His arms crossed formidably over his chest. He leaned back in his chair to study Evan's every expression. Again, when Evan spoke, he was surprised.
"No," Evan said. "Sam doesn't want you to know."
Falke sighed, he figured as much. "Have you come to negotiate her freedom?"
"Hell, no!" Evan shot. Falke's brows rose again in surprise. This conversation was nothing like he'd expected. "I say keep her stubborn ass locked up in that cell. The guys agree with me. She should've told you about the baby. We don't get it. Sam's usually pretty reasonable, but lately she's been ... different."
Evan shrugged, unable to explain further. Falke nodded, signaling that he understood what the man was trying to get at.
"We take it we're on our way to Qurilixen?" Evan asked.
"We are," Falke stated.
"And those men who were killed were part of your brother's crew?" Evan looked around the empty dining hall.
"They were," Falke answered. He didn't move a muscle.
"We figured as much," Evan said. "Here's what we propose. Your brother is short a few men and we've got our share of experience on a ship. We'd like to help out in exchange for room--preferably away from Sam--and board. We're all about to strangle her right now anyway."
Falke nodded. It wasn't a bad idea. He had no reason to keep the guys locked up. "I'll talk to Jarek."
"Thanks." Evan nodded. "And just for the record, we got caught on purpose. We didn't want you to think we were a bunch of wussies that couldn't hold their own in a fight."
At that, Falke chuckled. "I hoped as much."
"We did it for the baby," Evan continued to explain. "Sam's like a sister to us. We want what's best for her. That baby, your baby, is for all intents and purposes our nephew. When Dev told us the baby needed you to live, well, we really had no choice but to surrender. Sam needs to be with you and we weren't going to abandon her."
"Yet, you wish me to keep her imprisoned?" Falke asked. The baby needed him to live? Did that mean Sam planned on ridding herself of it?
"Yeah," Evan answered without hesitation. "Don't you agree she kind of deserves it? I mean, do you really want to let her loose on this ship?"
Falke didn't want her loose, but not for the same reason. Seeing that Evan meant every word, Falke relaxed. All his jealousy had been for naught and almost seemed laughable now. Evan had just been a big brother protecting his little sister. Falke couldn't exactly relate, but he could understand.
Evan nodded in acceptance. "So you know then that, being Ticara, she needs to be around your life force or the baby doesn't happen. She can't carry it alone."
Falke sat forward. Now, that he didn't know. Thoughts ran rampant in his head. His fists clenched in anger. So, when she wanted to send him away, she knew the baby wouldn't make it without him. His blood ran cold. Her father had tried to kill him, and thus killing the child as well. What was with her family and his baby? Wasn't he good enough for her?
"I don't understand it all myself," Evan continued, unaware of Falke's turmoil, "but Dev said that the baby isn't really a baby yet. It's more like the possibility of a baby."
Falke nodded weakly.
"So, do you want it?" Evan asked.
Again, Falke nodded, unable to speak.
"Then, you understand that you'll need to be with her," Evan continued. When Falke didn't respond, he stated bluntly, "You need to keep sleeping with Sam to keep her pregnant."
Falke's gut clenched. Even through his anger, his body responded, growing instantly hard with the idea. He did his best to remain calm, saying evenly, "I see."
Evan sighed, and appeared to relax a little. "So, what's your plan? You're going to take her back to your planet and then what?"
Falke shook his head. "I truly don't know."
"Well, whatever it is, so long as Sam's not hurt, we're here to help." Evan nodded and turned away, walking back to his cell without waiting to be escorted.
Sam frowned as she was led, in electric handcuffs, down the long corridor. The man, a dark blond of medium build, had been assigned guard duty. He'd introduced himself as Jackson, but didn't say much beyond that. It didn't take a genius to guess that the two men her father had killed had been his friends.
She'd been on the ship for nearly three days locked in the cell. After the first night, all the guys were released. As she walked, she frowned to see them walk freely about the ship. None of them talked to her, but they were no longer glaring in her direction. For that small allowance she was grateful. She couldn't bear the thought of them hating her.
Sam felt horrible. It was late in the day by her estimation, but she couldn't be sure. She felt like she'd lost everything in one swoop. Her father was dead, but she was coming to terms with what she'd done. He wasn't a good man, she knew that. In fact, he was a very bad, horrible, hateful, evil man who'd tried to enslave her and tried to kill the man she loved. The universe really was better off without him in it. Her friends seemed to hate her at the moment, she'd lost her ship, the Scavenger Hunt was pretty much forfeit. It wasn't like any of them were there to claim their prize if they did win. She couldn't say she lost Falke, because she was pretty sure she never really had him to begin with.
She had yet to see Falke. Sam told herself that she didn't care if she ever saw him again, but she knew it was a lie. She lay awake at night, thinking of him, remembering every agonizingly sweet moment they had been together. She missed his smell, his voice, but most of all, she missed his touch. Her body shivered with longing just thinking about it.
Suddenly, Jackson stopped and turned his serious green eyes on her. "This will be you new quarters."
Sam blinked in surprise. Jackson placed his hand on the sensor and waited for the door to open. When it did, he grabbed her by the cuffs and thrust her inside. Sam spun around to the door sliding shut in her face.
"Wait," she called. "What about these cuffs?"
"I think we'll just leave those on for now."
Sam shivered and her knees became weak. Falke. He was there, with her. Her body lurched, needing him. She couldn't move. "What's going on, Falke?"
"I thought it would be most obvious, my lady," Falke said. "I'm holding you prisoner."
Sam gasped, whirling around. She wasn't prepared for how close he was as her face came a couple inches from his massive chest. Heat radiated off of him, making her tingle all over. His smell engulfed her senses. The cabin seemed so small, Falke so big. She took a step back, hitting into the metal door.
His shirt was a tight fit, molding to every one of his angles--even the hard outlines of his smaller nipples. The tight crimson looked altogether too sexy on him. Her thighs tightened and moisture pooled between them. She couldn't breathe. Her mouth became dry. His feet were bare. Oh, she loved his feet. The black pants weren't as tight as the shirt, but they did bulge deliciously over his hard thighs to outline his semi erect shaft.
"Falke," she breathed. There were so many things she wanted to say. "Why are you doing this? I was letting you go. I told you it was a mistake that we took you hostage. I thought you understood. I thought that we--"
"That we what?" Falke demanded, his tone hard.
"That we had an understanding," she answered weakly. That's not what she'd been going to say. She'd wanted to tell him she thought they had something special, and that there was trust, friendship, perhaps even more between them. There had to be. He had to feel something for her. Looking up at his passionless face, she shivered. She could read nothing. Perhaps that was all he felt. Nothing.
"Is there anything you wish to say to me?" Falke asked, his voice becoming soft.
I love you. I want you. I'm pregnant. Please make love to me. Deny your duty and choose me instead. Come away with me. Sam swallowed, unable to tell him that. She had to know how he felt for her first. She wouldn't have him staying with her for the baby. "No. I can't think of anything."
His face tightened. "Very well. Let's get you cleaned up then."
Falke stepped away and moved to open the decontaminator's door. Looking at Sam, he ordered, "Undress."
Her cheeks flamed and she slowly shook her head, backing away. Her cuffed hands moved to brush back a purple and blonde lock from her eyes. The round violet orbs glowed with embarrassment.
Falke's mouth twitched at her reaction. "I've seen you before, my lady."
Sam frowned. Why was he calling her that? Why wasn't he using her name? She wanted to hear him say it. Why was he acting all distant and cold when all she wanted was for him to kiss her until she was breathless?
"Very well. Have it your way." Falke sighed and made a move to reach for her. Sam backed away more, hitting into the far wall.
"No, no, I'll do it," she stuttered, kicking off her boots and socks. She still wore her one piece jumpsuit. With her hands trapped together, she couldn't slip out of it. Frowning at her handcuffs, she held them up for his inspection. "It's all I can do."
Falke lifted a finger and she watched a claw extend from it. His dark chocolate eyes flashed with slivers of blue. It only served to excite her more. A dangerous thrill worked over her body, making her nearly pant with her need.
Slowly moving forward, his eyes steadily on hers, Falke ripped through one sleeve and then the other. She was dwarfed by him, trapped up against the metal wall. When he'd finished, he stepped back just as slowly. "Undress."
Sam shivered. Was it just her or was his voice a little hoarse? The room felt hot as she moved out of the clothing. She thought to be embarrassed, but Falke's steamy gaze following her every movement only turned her on more. She bent over, pushing the jumpsuit off her feet. When she glanced up, she saw his heavy arousal pressed firmly against his tight black pants. He wasn't immune to her. That was something at least.
"Come here," he commanded, his voice hoarse. Sam obeyed, stepping naked before him. When her hands moved to touch him, he firmly grabbed her handcuffs and pulled them up over her head. His eyes dipped down to her breasts. "Now bathe."
Falke led Sam inside the decontaminator, reaching her hands up to hook them along the ceiling where one of the laser ports jutted out. The lasers automatically turned on, cleaning her body. Sam closed her eyes, held helpless before him as he watched.
Falke's body pulsed with desire. He was so angry, and yet he still craved her soft touch. His gaze felt heavy as he watched the beams of light dancing all over her flesh. Her nipples were hard, beckoning points. She was panting hard. The laser hit her thighs and he could see it melting away the sweet cream of her body that gathered there. He licked his lips, wanting a taste.
The inner beast of the Var rose inside him. He sniffed, filling his head with her perfume. It was a strange feeling that overcame him, being as his Roane half usually controlled the wild beast of the Var half. Falke didn't fight his nature this time. The power of the Var--wild, passionate, angry, wanting to dominate her--was easier than being Roane--caring, tender, just as passionate, but tempered with restraint.
He wanted to punish her, wanted to pull her out of the decontaminator and press her up against the wall, holding her by her bound wrists over her head, as he shoved his thick shaft repeatedly into her moist depths. He wanted her on her hands and knees begging forgiveness, as she sucked him dry. He wanted her sorry for what she'd tried to do, for what he stopped her from doing.
Falke closed his eyes. He could picture her on the bed, her curved backside to him as he took her from behind. He could see her beneath him, tied and trapped. He could see her face, but it wasn't in pain, it was whimpering for more.
"Falke?"
Falke opened his eyes, having forgotten where he was and what he was doing. The lasers were off and she was looking at him with concern and trepidation. His breath came in heavy pants. Without thought, he grabbed her hands and pulled her to him. His lips seared over hers, marking her as his, willing her to feel what he felt.
Sam made a weak noise of instant surrender and he was surprised to discover she kissed him back with just as much passion. Their tongues clashed and fought in a silent battle between them. Sam moaned. Falke growled. Her body pressed into his and rubbed along his arousal. He held her wrists up and she used it as support as she hooked a leg around the back of his thighs.
"Ah," she cried, breaking her mouth free to breathe. She bit at his clothes, trying to tug them off with her mouth.
Falke trembled. He felt her leg working along him, trying to free him of his pants. Shaking her off, he used his grasp on her handcuffs to bring her back to the wall. His eyes bore hotly into hers. When she was trapped completely, he kissed her hard. Breathless and panting, he pulled back and pushed her down to sit on the mattress.
Sam's violet eyes dilated and he could smell her growing arousal. She liked this. She wanted it and that only made him ache more.
Sam leaned forward, reaching him with her mouth. Instantly, her mouth moved, biting and pulling at his waist band. It would be so easy to help her free him, but just seeing her mouth eager to suck him made the wait worth it. After some time, she was able to bite the zipper and pull it down. His body jerked as her breath hit his bare flesh.
He pulled her cuffed hands to his chest, pressing them to his thundering heart. Her face worked forward and his pants fell down to the floor. Falke watched. His eyes narrowed with passion. Her lips parted and he felt the smooth velvet glide of her mouth taking him in. He groaned in approval, liking the way her tongue rolled to encircle the head of his shaft.
Sam moaned. The sound vibrated through him. His gut clenched as his hips bucked forward to ease himself deeper into her hot, sucking mouth. Her teeth skimmed him. It was torture. He was too big for her to take in all the way, but he was reluctant to let go of her hands. His shaft slipped from her mouth and she glided her tongue down his mass to the hilt, only work back to the tip to repeat the movement down the other side.
Falke wanted more. He jerked her to standing before him and pressed her arms over her head against the wall. Her violet eyes captured his and he kissed her hard and deep, letting her feel the extent of his desire for her. With his free hand, he lifted her leg, nestling his shaft close to her moist heat. He thrust himself along her wet slit, feeling the glide of her cream on him.
"Ah, Falke," she panted, moaning softly. "Please, now, please."
Falke growled. He brought her hands down over his neck. Lifting her off the ground by her hips, he slid her body up the wall. He thrust boldly inside her, giving her his entire length at once. She stiffened, her muscles clenching his rod like a vice. The feel of her was too much. He thrust, delving inside her sweet body. Sam whimpered. Her legs wrapped around his waist. When she shook, he couldn't hold back. His body exploded into her, coming so hard his stomach clenched and a loud groan was wrenched from his throat.
Afterwards, he pulled out. Her arms were trapped around his neck as he carried her to the bed. Setting her on the mattress, he pulled his head from between her arms. Then, without saying a word, he lifted her up, drew back the covers, and laid her down. He stared at her for a long moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, her tired eyes, her sated smile.
Slowly, he moved to lie beside her, not saying a word. He pulled her close, protectively covering her body with his. She cradled along him without protest and they both fell into a deep and sated sleep.
Sam yawned. She awoke with a soft smile on her face and felt like she'd slept for an eternity. Sensing that Falke was gone, she opened her eyes and looked around the small cabin. Surprised to find her hands free, she stretched, arching her back again the bed and suppressing another yawn. Falke had released her.
Sam allowed a small smile to cross her features as she thought of their actions the night before. She'd gotten a dangerous thrill from being trapped by him. His strong body had felt so good against hers, rocking hard into her as if he needed her to live. Her body tingled with pleasure just thinking about it. Nothing between them was resolved, not really, but the look in his eyes afterwards gave her hope, as did the urgency of his desire for her. It meant that he at least needed her like she needed him.
Sitting up, she saw a pile of clean clothes on the end of the bed. She walked over to the decontaminator and cleaned off, surprised that her wrists weren't even bruised or sore. For all his show of dominance, he really had been gentle with her. When she first walked in, she had seen that he wanted to hurt her, to control her, to strike out. He'd done none of those things.
She dressed. The clothes were different, but she didn't mind them. Cross laces worked along the sides of the shirt, baring a subtle hint of skin. The sleeves were small, cupping her shoulders with the dark purple material. The black pants were soft and she slid them over her hips. They too laced up the sides and she pulled them tight to cover her outer thighs.
Sam tried the hand sensor and was pleased to find that the door opened. She peeked out into the corridor. No one was there.
"Hello?" she called out softly. Then, just to be a pain, she said, "Very dangerous prisoner escaping here, anyone going to try and stop me?"
A soft feminine laugh answered her. "Falke didn't mention that you had a sense of humor."
Sam turned, eyeing the beautiful woman standing in the corridor. The woman wore an outfit similar to the one left on the bed for her, only it was a deep, dark blue that matched her eyes. The woman's red-blonde hair practically gleamed as she stepped forward and her stomach was slightly rounded with child, making her look particularly radiant and happy.
Sam shivered, thinking of the little life inside her. Her hand fluttered nervously to her abdomen. Somehow seeing a pregnant belly made her child all the more real. Even if the pregnancy hadn't completely taken hold, she wanted it to, desperately. The very idea of having Falke's child gave her pleasure. She'd been trying hard to deny it, but she wanted him, wanted his baby, needed both of them.
Footsteps sounded behind Sam, and she turned to see another woman walking towards her. She too was dressed the same, only she was shorter and had very alluring curves. She wore all black and had long dark hair and dark eyes. She also appeared pregnant, though not so far along.
"I'm dreaming," Sam whispered. That was the only explanation for it. She was dreaming and seeing pregnant women everywhere.
"I should hope not," the blonde laughed. "From what I hear, you've been dreaming for the last two days."
"What?" Sam mumbled, turning back to her. "Two days? No, I've only been asleep for a few hours."
"I'm sorry," the woman answered, "but it has been a few days not hours."
"Falke asked me to check on you. You appear fine," the darker woman said.
"Who are you?" Sam asked them, glancing from one to the other. They didn't move. "Where am I?"
Both women laughed. The blonde was the first to answer, "I'm Queen Ulyssa of the Var, wife to King Kirill."
"And I am Princess Vittoria of the Var, married to Prince Quinn, Royal Var Ambassador," the other answered. "Well, now that's out of the way. Call me Tori."
"I'm Lyssa," Ulyssa said. "Or Ulyssa. Really only my husband calls me Lyssa."
"Your Majesty," Sam began, shaking herself from a stupor. The Queen actually grimaced.
"Ulyssa, please," Ulyssa said. "And don't you dare curtsey or I'll behead you. I'm very pregnant right now and might actually carry that threat out."
Sam paled. Tori laughed. "She's only kidding. The palace has run out of Lithorian chocolate and she's been an absolute nightmare ever since. I had a block of the stuff, literally bigger than a human head, given to me while I was being courted by my husband. She found it and ate it in two days."
"Hey!" Ulyssa said. Then, shrugging, she admitted, "Okay, yeah, it's true. But, the baby was hungry. He needed it."
"Okay, whatever." Tori rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Don't come crying to me when you've gained three hundred pounds and can't roll out of bed."
"Kirill would probably prefer it if I was stuck in bed," Ulyssa laughed. "But, at least he doesn't burn my clothes to keep me there."
"True," Tori admitted. "Very true. I need to yell at Quinn again for that."
"Um," Sam shook her head, trying to make sense of what was happening around her. They turned to look at her, still smiling kindly. Both women seemed very nice, but Sam was having a hard time following. "Where am I? Where did you come from?"
"Oh, sorry," Tori said. Sam nearly flinched as the woman hooked her elbow through hers and led her toward Ulyssa. Ulyssa hooked her other side as they passed her and walked with them as well. "You were asleep when Jarek landed. You're on Qurilixen, Falke's home planet. I think you'll discover it's quite beautiful here."
"Oh, but you've been here before, haven't you?" the Queen asserted. "It was very wicked of you to kidnap Falke. Though, your crewmen explained the mistake to my husband and he's no longer mad about it. In fact, I think he's amused by it."
"Believe me, we've all been there," Tori said. "Well maybe not exactly there, I've never actually kidnapped anyone, but we've gotten drunk and done some pretty stupid things."
"They should be teasing Falke as we speak." Ulyssa smiled.
"They?" Sam panted weakly. She was too weak to pull away as she was led down the docking plank. The outside air was warm, smelling fresh and clean.
"Falke's brothers," Tori explained. "They're waiting anxiously to meet you--the woman who would kidnap the Royal Var Commander."
"Me? Why?" Sam asked, alarmed. The only answer she got was more laughter.
Great, Sam thought, all the women here are crazy.
"You're practically a warrior legend amongst the people," Ulyssa said. "They've been hearing stories of Falke's victories since the man could walk. I have to admit, I thought you'd be bigger than you are. Nice tattoo by the way."
Sam glanced at her arm, "Uh, thanks?"
"Okay," Tori admitted, stopping to study Sam. "I have to admit it too. I really though you'd be huge, like an Amazon. How on Earth do you handle a man like Falke? I mean, he's ... huge."
Sam paled. Tori eyes got really round with meaning and she glanced downward to signify Falke's special anatomy. Sam's mouth opened, but only a squeak came out.
"Tori!" Ulyssa scolded. "Wait until she knows us at least ... five hours before you start with that."
Tori looked embarrassed. "Sorry. I get carried away. I swear this baby is making me talk non-stop without a filter between my brain and mouth. Whoever heard of that being a side effect to pregnancy?"
"No, it's fine," Sam said. "Don't worry about it."
"Oh," Ulyssa put forth. "In that case...."
"Does he ever smile at you? I mean, he always appears so ... so stoic," Tori said, her voice dipping at the girlish secrets.
"Ah," Sam began, shrugging.
"Don't get us wrong. We both love Falke dearly, but were pretty amazed to hear he had a woman--mind you, we know he's had plenty of women, but, well, you know what we mean." Ulyssa pulled Sam's arm to get them walking again, adding, "Don't want to take too long or they're likely to send out a search party. Damn if the Var men aren't protective about what's theirs. I ran away once and I think Kirill still holds a small grudge about it, though he refuses to admit it."
Sam stepped off of the docking plank and was led directly up a long row of steps. Reaching the top platform, she gasped. Before her lay a long wide walkway made of smooth stone, adjoined to a brilliant palace. Her head leaned back on her shoulders. She swallowed, looking up at its impressive height. It stood tall against the blue-green sky. Square turrets reached high into the heavens. It was magnificent.
"Blessed Stars!" Sam whispered. The two women giggled.
"Impressive, huh?" Tori said. "I tried my hardest to act like it was primitive and uninteresting. Now I know I was just being stubborn."
The women let her go and Sam stepped to the closest railing. A large city surrounding the palace rolled down the countryside from the front gate. Sam saw a few people walking along the top of their houses. The homes were constructed of gray bricks, contrasting to the red earth. They were of beautiful workmanship, though simplistic in their rectangular design. There was a bustling maze of earthen streets. From what she could tell, the city thrived.
"Come on," Ulyssa said, tugging her arm. "Wait until you see the rest of it."
"This may be a planet of men," Tori added, "but they sure know how to build beautiful things."
"The inside of the palace reminds me of the old Moroccan architecture on Earth," Ulyssa admitted, "mixed with a medieval castle appeal."
"Makes you wonder if they somehow met up with ancient Earth civilizations," Tori mused. "I've heard of portals before, wormholes though space, though I've never seen any information to back that up."
"No, it makes you wonder that, Tori. See, she's a scientist," Ulyssa explained. "That means she wonders about everything. I just say enjoy the beauty."
Sam followed them inside the palace. If she thought the outside was impressive, the inside took her breath away. She was amazed to find herself staring at the intricate carvings over the arched doorways. There were particularly beautiful, symmetrical patterns of brilliantly displayed colors--blue, red, orange, gold, green--inlaid into the walls. A circular design was quite dizzying when stared at too closely. She blinked, reaching out to touch the bumpy surface in fascination.
"I know," Tori sighed. "Hard to believe a barbaric race of primitive warrior men did this, huh?"
Ulyssa giggled, as if the two women shared a private joke.
Sam pulled her hand back from the wall. So this was where Falke grew up? Shaking a little, she knew she couldn't possibly ask him to leave all this behind for a life on her ship--if she still had a ship. It was likely the Bound Virgin was stolen from the docks without anyone there to claim it.
Suddenly, Sam wished she had somehow gotten through her coronation and become a true Princess. Then, it might work between them. She'd be considered worthy of marrying Falke. Thinking of Falke's hard features, she grimaced. Well, maybe it would have worked, at any rate.
Sam felt sorely out of her league. Tori and Ulyssa were obviously born into royalty. They were so beautiful, elegant, and graceful despite their swollen bellies. It was clear they belonged here. She might have been born to be a Princess, but she'd never felt like one.
The two women led Sam down a long hall, stopping to push open two oversized doors. Stepping in, Sam looked around. The banquet hall was a splendid affair with a high domed ceiling of glass that let in a diffused light, mosaic patterns on the walls, and a very lovely tiled floor. Flowers swept over the walls in long garlands, their fragrance sweetening the hall. Long tables and bench seats were along the floor for group dining, but she was glad to see they were currently empty. At the front of the hall, on a raised platform, was what had to be the King's table. She took a deep breath, feeling suddenly nauseous.
She recognized Jarek, wearing a long sleeved tunic next to a man with long black hair. A more slender Prince, with light brown hair was next to them. Each of them was looking at her sternly and she had the sudden impulse to either run or faint.
"Don't worry," Tori whispered. "They're not as bad as they look."
"Hey, if you can handle a giant like Falke, these men will be nothing," Ulyssa added, squeezing her arm.
Sam nodded and to her horror, the women abandoned her to walk over to their husbands. The brown haired one must have been Prince Quinn, as Tori went to him, which made the other unknown man the King. Looking behind her, Sam debated on whether or not she could run back to the ship, fire up the engine, and be off the ground before they caught up to her.
"Please," the King said, waving her forward. "Join us."
Sam swallowed. She took a hesitant step forward and was sure the sound of her footstep echoed really loud in the silent hall. Trembling, she didn't know how she possibly made it to stand before the table. She looked at Jarek, the only familiar face, and gave a halfhearted smile.
Quinn and Kirill leaned forward, turning to look at their brother. Jarek shrugged, and the strangest grin spread over his handsome features. Sam's smile faded.
"So you're the little woman who kidnapped my brother." Kirill broke the silence.
"Ah," she whispered, realizing her voice wasn't going to come out any louder. Slowly, she nodded, looking properly apologetic.
"Funny," Quinn said to his brothers. "I expected a woman of Falke's girth. She's barely a little slip of a thing."
"Thank Goodness!" Jarek exclaimed. "Could you imagine Falke in a dress ... oh, wait, never mind, we've seen that."
All three brothers laughed. Ulyssa reached over and punched Jarek in the arm. Tori shook her head, nudging her husband. Quinn looked properly chastised, though his eyes were still lit with merriment when he looked at his wife. She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose.
Sam, seeing they weren't looking at her, moved to take a step back. It was official. Everyone on the planet was insane. She wondered what was more likely--inbreeding or lead poisoning? At her movement, they turned to her. She stopped. Seeing Jarek's affected grin as he obviously checked her out, staring too long at her breasts, she decided to go with both options.
"She doesn't ask about Falke," Jarek said. "Perhaps it's not as we thought."
Sam watched his face open up in invitation, as he eyed her like a piece of meat. Before she could stop herself, she muttered sarcastically, "I'm not asking about my crew either, screwboy. Don't you have something you could be doing elsewhere? Like forcing your obvious lack of charm on unconscious women who can't run away from you?"
To her surprise, all of them broke into hearty laughter. Yep, crazy, every last one of them.
"She got you, Reid," the King said.
Sam frowned, looking at Jarek. "I thought you were ... didn't you help to kidnap me?"
"Ah, you mean my twin, Jarek," Reid said. "I, the charmer of sleeping women, am Prince Reid, Commander of the Outpost."
"Oh, sorry," Sam mumbled, her cheeks flaming. If he'd kidnapped her, she'd have reason for the sudden outburst. It was partly Jarek's fault she now stood in the hall.
"Don't you dare be sorry," Quinn said. "You're right. Reid's a scoundrel."
"Thanks," Reid grinned, taking it as a compliment.
"Are you done torturing the poor woman, yet?" Ulyssa asked, stroking her husband's arm. "She's had to deal with Falke, isn't that punishment enough?"
Kirill looked at her and when he smiled, it was genuinely kind. "Have you been sufficiently tortured by us?"
Sam nodded. They laughed. She took a step back.
"Very well. Welcome to the Var Palace, my lady." Kirill stood, waving his hand with flourish as he moved his elbow to help up his wife. The Queen hardly looked like she needed help standing, but took his arm anyway. There was a lot of love in the Var royal couples.
Sam felt her heart sink. Falke never looked at her like that--so openly, so tenderly. It could only mean he didn't feel like that for her. She wondered briefly if he'd let her stay to have the baby and then leave with the child.
"Am I to be arrested and tried?" Sam asked. The men actually looked shocked by the question.
The King sighed. "You should speak with Falke."
"Where is," Sam hesitated, finishing weakly, "my crew? Have they been arrested?"
Tori and Ulyssa came down the platform to her. They frowned at the men, before taking her by the arm. Leading her toward the doors, Ulyssa said, "No, no one has been arrested. Your crew is just fine. They're settling in as we speak."
"Where are you taking me?" Sam asked.
"We've prepared a suite for you. You might want to clean up and relax a little," Tori suggested.
Sam walked in silence as she was led through the mazelike halls of the Var Palace. By the time they stopped at a door, she was sure she'd never find her way out again. Tori let go of her and pushed open the door.
"I stayed in here when I first arrived. It really is one of the best guest suites in the palace," Tori said. Pointing up, she drew Sam's attention to the domed ceiling of tinted glass. "I just fell in love with that crystal chandelier."
The crystal shards hung down like raindrops, lighting the large oval room. Sam nodded in silent appreciation. This room was much more tasteful than the one at her father's palace.
"Let's see, food simulator is over here," Tori said, showing her where the button was hidden on the wall next to a long banner with the Var royal symbol of an upright wild cat. "We often eat together in the main hall. You're welcome to join us if you prefer."
Sam hardly thought she would prefer.
"Behind those purple curtains is the bath," Tori said.
"It's a water bath," Ulyssa warned. "They can be frightening if you've never had one before."
"No, I have," Sam answered, frowning slightly.
"What? Am I the only person in the Universe who'd never taken a water bath before coming here?" Ulyssa shook head.
"Don't mind her. She had a small incident. She thought she was melting from getting wrinkled in the water," Tori laughed.
"Stayed in too long?" Sam asked.
Ulyssa chuckled and nodded. "I thought I was withering away. The worst part was that Kirill saw me freak out."
The curtains around the platform tub were floor to ceiling. Next to the tub and across from the front door was a fireplace. It was designed to heat the whole room at once--bath, couches in front of it, or the side opposite the bath which Sam guessed was a bed hidden by more purple curtains.
"And that, as you've probably guessed, is the bed," Tori said, confirming her thoughts. "The lights don't turn off, but if you pull the curtains it's really dark."
Sam nodded and thanked her. Tori and Ulyssa smiled, saying goodbye as they moved to leave. When she was alone in the large suite, she looked around, numb. Walking over to the food simulator, she ordered a coffee, and took it over to the couch before the fireplace to sip it. Her legs curled beneath her and she looked around in the silence. What was she supposed to do now?
Falke looked up from his place in the King's royal office. The office was much like the rest of the palace, with the same beautiful tile work on the walls and the same medieval castle feel to the structure. A large barren fireplace was dwarfed by the even larger sidewall. Long banners hung on either side of it. A long, woven rug of red and blue lay on the floor. Next to the rug were large, deep chairs, where Falke now contemplated in brooding silence. On the side opposite from where he sat, there was a long, empty stone desk and more chairs, a couch, more rugs of tile patterned designs. Seeing his brother, Kirill, in the doorway, Falke sat forward, his back rigid.
Kirill nodded and closed the door behind him. "Ulyssa and Tori have taken her to a guest suite."
Falke nodded. It was as he'd requested. He remembered their last encounter with shame. At the time, he thought she enjoyed it as much as he, but as she didn't wake up the next morning, no matter how hard he shook her, Falke realized he must have unleashed himself too hard upon her. That night was a blur. He'd watched her in the decontaminator, the lasers skimming over her body, and he'd nearly lost his mind with desire. Jarek's medical unit said she was fine, just sleeping, but Falke wasn't so sure.
He'd sat by her side, watching over her, until they arrived home. By then, she'd tossed and moaned softly in her sleep. Knowing she was pregnant with his child, he did the only thing he could think of. He asked, well more like commanded, Ulyssa and Tori to look in on her. He also instructed that nothing was to be said about the baby.
Kirill crossed over and took a seat in the chair next to him. "What?"
"Did she," Falke took a deep breath. "What did she say?"
"Naturally, we needed to intimidate her a little," Kirill said. Falke's eyes narrowed. "Don't worry. All is fine. She held up rather well and even insulted Reid."
"Why?" Falke demanded. He knew Reid had a bad habit of coming on to every female within fifty feet of him, even those belonging to his brothers. He would never push the issue with taken women, but he definitely flirted and charmed them. Falke was no charmer and definitely didn't need Reid pointing this flaw out to Sam. "What did he say?"
"Easy, Falke," Kirill said. "I truly have never seen you out of sorts like this. Not even when I said I would make peace with the Draig did your eyes flash with such fire."
Falke placed his hands in his hair, pushing the locks back from his face in a rarely seen act of complete frustration. "It is because I'm not the man she would have."
Kirill blinked in surprise. "She loves another? One of her crew perhaps? Rick? Or that Evan?"
Falke shook his head. "No, I have no reason to believe that. They are close, like brothers to her."
"Can it be?" Kirill asked, amazed. "That you feel...."
Kirill didn't finish and Falke frowned. "Just because you don't see my emotion, brother, don't assume that it hasn't been there. I feel very deeply. It is the Roane way to hide it."
"Taura," Kirill whispered, nodding. She was Falke's mother and King Attor's first half-mate before he died. As if a great epiphany just hit him square between the eyes, he said, "Sacred Cats, Falke. I understand now. I'm sorry. We always assumed your behavior wasn't an act. I feel like a fool for not realizing it before. With Taura's stoic, reserved behavior coupled with our father's obvious disdain for pleasures of the heart, I.... You never let on, never once complained, never said anything to.... Sacred Cats, I'm sorry, Falke, truly. I never realized."
Falke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and grunted, "Fine, fine. Let's drop it."
Kirill hid his grin at the gruff comment, but not before Falke saw it.
"For what it's worth, our father was wrong about loving one woman. It has brought me a peace I've never known," Kirill said. "And the people do not see it as a weakness, but a strength."
"What did Ulyssa say about it?" Falke asked. "Did she discover anything?"
"I haven't spoken to her alone since Sam awoke, so you know as much as I. Tori said the baby's well, as is Sam." Kirill sighed. "Why don't you go to her and see for yourself?"
"I ... no." Falke shook his head, standing. "I go to rest. It has been a long journey."
"She carries your son, brother," Kirill said, very serious.
"She carries much more than that, Kirill. She carries my heart," Falke whispered, stepping from the royal office to go to his wing of the palace.
Sam jumped up in surprise, spilling a fresh cup of coffee down her shirt as someone knocked on the door. She looked for a towel and found a thick blue one by the bath. Dabbing at her shirt, she set the coffee cup down on the rim of the tub and walked over to answer the door.
When she opened it, she really expected to see one of her crew, or perhaps even Falke. She wasn't prepared for the tall, stately woman with long, willowy limbs. The woman's gown of gold shimmered as she moved. Her long, golden brown hair fell in shiny waves down her back, the color mimicked by the hazel-gold of her almond shaped eyes.
Dropping her arms down to her sides, Sam said, "Hello."
"Hum," the woman made a small sound as she looked Sam over from head to toe. Sam was too stunned by the inspection to move. The woman's head tilted to the side, eyeing the coffee stain. Finally, finishing her inspection, she looked Sam directly in the eye. "I am Taura."
Sam stared blankly as the woman, thinking, Okay, and that means what to me?
"Falke's mother," Taura stated, her voice very reserved.
Sam wasn't sure she believed the claim, unable to fathom how such a slender woman could give birth to a giant like the Commander Prince. Like a fool, she stood in the doorway staring.
"May I enter?" Taura asked, sounding exasperated by the rudeness.
Sam stepped back and motioned.
Taura nodded graciously and entered. Looking around the room with the same hard inspection she'd given Sam, the woman sighed. "Do you speak?"
"Yes, yes," Sam rushed. "I speak."
"I was beginning to wonder," Taura said and she saw a ghost of a smile on her features.
"I'm confused," Sam allowed.
"How so?" Taura asked. "I am Falke's mother. You have caught the interest of my son. I am here to inspect you."
Sam felt a rush of pleasure, even in light of Taura's disturbing words. "Did Falke say that I caught his interest?"
"No," Taura answered flatly. "I had to hear it from Quinn. He's such a good boy. Someone has been stealing my solar flowers from the garden and he's been nice enough to look in on it for me."
Remembering her manners at long last, Sam asked, "Can I get you something? A drink of some sort?"
"No," Taura stated.
"Would you like to sit?" Sam asked.
"No," Taura answered. Her eyes again moved up and down over Sam's slender frame, giving nothing away. "You're a lot smaller than I've pictured."
"So I'm told," she mumbled. Taura raised a brow, and Sam asked, "Is this visit about me kidnapping your son? I swear there was nothing to it. I mean, it really was an accident. We needed to get a wild beast for this Scavenger Hunt contest. I'm sorry if you were worried--"
"Why would I worry? I foresaw it," Taura answered. "I've known about it for nearly twenty years. As to the wild beast, well, in a way I'd say you succeeded very well in capturing what you sought, wouldn't you?"
"You knew I would kidnap your son," Sam allowed, disbelieving. "Did you tell Falke this? Warn him? Did he know I was coming?"
"Why would I tell him?" Taura asked. "It was my premonition, not his."
"Falke has premonitions?" Sam inquired.
"No," Taura sighed, looking vaguely disappointed. "I'd always hoped he would develop them. But, being only half Roane, he inherited the burden of great emotions instead."
Sam studied the woman's face and thought that the last thing she'd ever say to describe Taura was 'great emotions'. If she had to guess, she'd say the woman was cold, that she felt hardly anything.
"You don't believe me," Taura said, nodding as if she knew this for fact. Sam didn't believe her, so she said nothing. "Sometimes you need to look with your heart and not your eyes, dear girl. Many things inside us are just there, buried inside us, hidden away from the world. Roane are especially passionate with emotion once they decide to feel--like Falke for his people. Sometimes it takes us Roane awhile to allow ourselves to feel something, because we guard ourselves exceedingly well, and then we hide it exceedingly well once we do. When we open ourselves up, we let other's feelings in. It's a hard burden to carry. We love deeply, hurt deeply. Being Roane is bad enough, but Falke has it worse. He had to swallow his passions deep inside because of his Var father. Despite King Attor's faults, Falke loved him, still loves him. That is what love is. Love despite faults, not because the person lacks them."
Sam didn't know what to say. She was too busy thinking of Falke, trying to see if there was some subtle hint in him that she might have missed.
"I know Falke," Taura said. "I don't know you."
"What do you want to know?" Sam asked. She had a strange urge to hug the woman. Taura had done the one thing she hadn't been able to do for herself. She'd given Sam hope--hope in Falke, hope that what she felt wasn't one sided.
"You are Ticara," Taura said, nodding to Sam's marking.
"Half," Sam answered.
"You are a healer? You have that gift?" Taura asked. Sam nodded. The woman smiled as if understanding something. "That makes sense. Fate would choose a healer for him. How else was he to mend his fractured heart? I feared the damage his father inflicted on that poor organ might forever keep him from finding anything pure."
"I'm hardly pure," Sam said.
"Mmm," was Taura's quiet answer, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "I've seen what I've come to see."
Sam watched as Taura turned to go. The door was still open and Sam was amazed to find that they hadn't moved from the entryway.
Taura paused, and looked at Sam. "Just remember, dear girl, fate is never an accident. You were meant to take him with you."
Sam watched the woman walk away, moving so elegantly she seemed to glide down the hall. Swallowing, she shut the door. What had just happened? Did Falke's mother just give her permission to take her son away again? Or did she refer to the original kidnapping?
Sam turned around and before she could take one step, someone knocked behind her. Sighing, she opened the door. Evan stood there, biting his bottom lip.
"Don't slam the door on me," he said quickly, raising his hands.
Sam burst forward and hugged him. She felt his sigh against her. His hand stroked the back of her hair.
"That bad, Captain?" he asked.
Sam nodded.
"Well, come on," Evan said and Sam looked up as he pulled her from the room. "I've come to bring you to the hall to eat. I drew the short straw."
Sam punched his arm lightly, not wanting to laugh in her misery. "Seriously, Evan, I just want to stay in the room."
"Sorry, Captain," Evan said. "You've got a baby to feed."
Sam frowned. "So are you still mad?"
"We were never really that mad, Sam. We were hurt," Evan sighed. "Once we calmed down, we realized you'd never hurt the baby on purpose, it's not in you. You were just doing what was right for Falke."
Sam smiled weakly.
"What's on your shirt?" Evan shook his head. "Quick, go change and then come on. The guys are anxious to make up with you."
The hall was filled when they arrived. Sam looked around. There was still no Falke. She saw Taura at the head table, next to Ulyssa and Kirill. Quinn and Tori were on the stately woman's other side. Evan led her forward to the crew. She smiled, as they all hugged her. They really were her family and no apologies were needed. Sam moved to sit down, and she stiffened to hear a voice behind her.
"We'd be honored if you'd join us."
Sam turned. Jarek was there, or was it Reid? "Which one are you?"
Jarek grinned and pointed at his neck where the black tattoo peaked up. "Jarek. See the tattoos?"
Sam nodded.
"Come on," Jarek said, grabbing her arm and dragging her with him. "You really don't have a choice."
Jarek stuck her between himself and Reid. Reid grinned at her and winked, saying, "I can't wait until you fall asleep, my lady."
Sam blushed. Reid laughed.
"Is that what you call charm?" Jarek asked.
"Think you can do better?" Reid countered.
"My lady, your beauty far outweighs that of a supernova. Your eyes sparkle like the heavens and make my heart fall like a shooting star," Jarek told her gallantly.
"And though the evil Rfod is just behind that door, Mina, he will never tear us apart," Sam finished. "The Space Pirate's Mistress by Siggy Ahl. Considering the girl gets her head bitten by a giant snake in the next scene, that's not very romantic, Captain Jarek, oh sorry, Prince Jarek."
Reid laughed. Jarek frowned, mumbling, "It usually works on the ladies."
"You should really try harder," Sam teased.
"Naw, it's just a good thing the ladies I go for aren't as smart as you," Jarek laughed, winking audaciously.
The meal was served and Sam did her best to eat in silence. Falke's family didn't make that easy. If Reid and Jarek weren't trying to best each other with their barrage of different come-on lines, someone else was asking her a question. By the last course, she genuinely liked Falke's family. The only blight on the evening was that Falke wasn't there to share it with her.
"Where is Falke?" Sam asked Jarek, when Reid got up to charm some woman who came in the side door.
"I wondered how long it was going to take you to ask me that," Jarek answered. "He's in his room."
"Oh," Sam said.
As if reading her worried thoughts, he continued, "Alone. Sleeping. He stayed awake with you the whole time you were out."
"He did?" Sam asked, surprised. "Why?"
Jarek merely smiled and didn't answer. Instead, he said, "If you wish to see him, I'll take you."
Sam hesitated then nodded. "Is he very angry?"
Again Jarek didn't answer her question. "Come on, I'll take you."
Sam was nervous, but her desire to see Falke outweighed everything else. She walked silently beside Jarek through the mazelike halls. Then, suddenly, they stopped at a door. Jarek nodded at it with his head and turned away.
"Wait," Sam whispered.
Jarek paused, turned around and bowed gallantly to her. Then, without saying a word, he left. Sam knocked quietly. There was no answer. She tried several more times before testing the knob. Opening it, she poked her head inside.
The room was dim as she stepped in. From what she could make out, she was in a living area. The furniture was dark and hard to make out. She thought she saw a fireplace mantel and the outline of a banner. The only light source drifted in from a bathroom. It had a large oval whirlpool tub and a gigantic shower.
The kitchen was small and orderly, from what she could tell in the dark. Seeing two doors on the other side of the house, she made her way across the living area. One led to a workout area decorated in swords and other various weaponries.
Sam stopped at the last door, knowing it had to be Falke's bedroom. She knocked softly and got no answer. Pushing the door open, she made out the outline of Falke's body on the bed. She crept forward. When she drew near, she saw he slept on his side, facing away from her. His naked muscular chest rose and fell in even breath.
Without stopping to consider if it was a mistake, she kicked off her boots and slid into the covers beside him. The cool sheet whispered over her arms and bare feet. She loosened the ties at her outer thighs for comfort and moved to lie next to him.
His flesh was warm when she touched it, gliding over his smooth, hard planes. He felt so familiar. She sighed, snuggling closer to wrap her body along his, not at all surprised to discover he slept naked. Sam curled her legs to the back of his thighs and rested her hand above his beating heart.
His heat washed over her and she started to tremble with need. Drawing back quietly, she stripped from her clothing and moved around to press her body to him once more. His naked butt hit her stomach and her small leg slid up over his thigh as his top leg fell slightly forward. She pressed her breasts to his strong back, gasping lightly as they budded into hard erect peaks.
Her fingers whispered over his stomach, moving over defined abs to discover a hard, full erection. Sam purred in pleasure, moving her hand around him. Pulling back, she grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down on the bed. His dark, sleepy eyes met hers and she instantly kissed him.
Falke moaned into her mouth and she thrust her tongue inside him. Her body glided on top of his, straddling his hips. She let her fingers have full reign of his chest, touching him everywhere, relearning his solid muscles. Her body grew moist as she worked her hips in slow circles along his waist. She slid back, feeling his hot length pressed next to her cleft. Leaning over, she rocked herself against him while plying little kisses to his chest.
Sam moaned. She felt jolts of intense raw pleasure rack her body with need wherever his skin met hers. His hands moved over her sides, working up and down, up and down, in lazy massaging caresses.
Her mouth claimed his briefly and her hands took his wrist. Lifting his hands over his head, she kissed his neck and ears. Her fingers glided down his large arms, moving to his shoulders as she kissed one manly nipple then the other. His erection lurched against her and his hips moved, making small thrusts up into the air.
Sam kissed a trail down his stomach, moaning when his hands came back down to tangle in her hair. Her tongue flicked over his navel. Before she could kiss lower, Falke pulled her up, moving her as if she was a feather. Seated again on his waist, he took her hips, lifting her above him.
Sam helped guide her body to his. It was agonizingly sweet warmth that filled her as she slowly lowered herself onto him. Falke groaned, a primal and raw sound from the back of his throat. Sam took him in, loving the way he pried her body open to accept his thick shaft. Fitting him to the hilt, she moved in shallow thrusts, slowly working him in her moist depths.
Falke arched his back, pushing himself deeper. He let her set the pace of their lovemaking, not moving to force her to speed up. His hands found hold on her breasts, rubbing them, teasing the tips.
"Ahh," he moaned, pushing higher than before.
"Mmm," she answered him, breathing hard.
His hand moved to find the sweet spot of her folds, encircling her clit with his finger. Sam's thighs spasmed hard, as delightful sensations ran a rampant course throughout her body. Instantly, she rocked harder, driven to feel the friction between them build.
"Falke, oh yes, Falke," she panted, feeling the tension build.
He growled, taking her hips and helping to guide her body on him. He pulled and pushed, speeding her rhythm until she rode him hard and deep. The smell of him surrounded her, cocooning her senses. She was so close, so close, so....
"Ahhh," Sam screamed, coming hard. Her body clenched tightly around his shaft.
He kept moving and she could hear in the sounds he made that he was holding back, keeping himself from the edge until he'd milked the last ripple from her flesh. The orgasm calmed only to be built up to a screaming pitch yet again. She screamed once more, leaning forward to support herself on his chest. Falke wasn't done. He slowed, letting her body start to fall into numbness before rocking into her for one last climax.
"Falke, oh, Falke," she breathed, panting his name like a plea. To her amazement, she came again and he finally broke loose, filling up her with his seed as he cried out in fulfillment. She felt his body jerk so hard that he jolted her on top of him. "Falke."
When his tremors stopped, she fell forward, feeling completely sated. She sprinkled light kisses on his chest. His hand found her hair, stroking it back.
Sam lay on top of him, feeling his heartbeat--so steady compared to her racing pulse. Her arms and legs were numb from the pleasure. A sigh of contentment filtered past her lips.
"Why won't you tell me about the child?" he asked, his voice soft.
"I...." Sam froze. He knew! What could she say?
"I know you don't want the child," he said, sounding so pained that it tore her up inside. Falke lifted her off him and gently set her down on the mattress before sitting up. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head down, his back toward her.
"You ... know?" Sam whispered. Her heart beat a thunderous rhythm in her chest. "How long have you known?"
"Since the baby was made," he answered. "I could feel my son in you and you seek to kill it by banishing me from you."
"It's not like that," Sam defended.
"It is like that," Falke growled. "You sought to ship me back here without so much as a 'see you later, have a nice life, by the way I'm pregnant'!"
"No," Sam whimpered. He was yelling at her, really yelling. She'd never seen him like this. "No, Falke, I--"
"Do not lie to me, Samantha! I know. I heard you. I heard you with your crew. You told them there was nothing between us. You said as soon as you got the prize money you were going to send me home. You knew about the baby, knew it wouldn't survive if I was out of the picture, and yet you still were going to banish me."
By the time he finished, he was whispering. Sam shook, speechless. Tears built in her eyes and she tried to keep them from falling. Her mouth opened, but trembled so badly she couldn't make a sound.
"I won't let you go, Sam," Falke whispered. Sam felt a tentative pleasure build in her chest. "Not until you have the baby. I will raise my son. As soon as he is born, you are free to leave."
Sam's heart fell. He only wanted the baby. He didn't want her. He wasn't asking for her.
"How often do we have to be together for the sake of the child?" Falke asked.
Sam wanted to cry, but held strong. Lying, she said, "At least twice a week, but more is actually better. The baby will be healthier if we're together more."
"Very well," Falke sighed. "I'll move you to my quarters. I thought to give you space by letting you have your own suite, because I know you don't care for me."
"Falke, I--"
"No, stop," Falke said, sounding very weary. "I want you to have the baby. Don't make me force you into it, because I will if I have to. Your life, traveling from adventure to adventure will be yours again soon enough. For now, I'm going to make sure you take care of yourself and our son--even if I have to force you."
Sam felt hot tears slip down her face. "You don't have to force me."
"I'm glad to hear it," Falke said. He stood. His naked body was glorious in the dim bedroom light. "You may have the bed from now on. I'll stay on the couch."
With that, he left her. Sam started to cry, not caring if he heard her. Pain rolled through her. It was as she always feared. He wanted the baby, not her. Hitting the pillow, she lay down and cried herself to sleep.
Falke listened to Sam crying in the next room. His body was relaxed, sated from her lovemaking. He'd been surprised to feel her come into his room, but even more surprised when she'd started to touch him.
He couldn't resist her. She was his weakness, his only weakness. The woman could bring him to his knees with one look. He'd lay down his life for her if she commanded it of him. He'd conquer worlds. He'd do anything. But, she didn't want anything from him, not even his heart.
Falke covered his ears, but he couldn't block out the sound of her sorrow. He knew he'd trapped her, forced her hand. There was no escape. She had nowhere to go that he couldn't find her.
He knew she didn't like the idea of being forced to stay with him for a few months and he regretted that it had come that. The pitiful sound of her grief was too much. Unable to sleep, he turned and marched into the shower. The sound of running water beat into him, drowning out her tears. He stayed in the shower for a long time, scrubbing his skin to rid himself of her torturous smell. The next eight months or so were going to be pure hell. He'd only fall more in love with her and she'd only pull further away.
He turned off the shower and listened. All was silent and he guessed that Sam had fallen asleep. Drying off, he knew it was in the middle of the night. He slowly crept into his room, stopping to watch her chest fall in even breaths. He saw every detail of her face perfectly in the darkness. Her eyes and nose were red, evidence of her tears. His heart squeezed as he grabbed clothes and left. Walking out the front door toward the practice field, he just knew he had to get away from her.
When Sam awoke the next morning, she hesitantly made her way from the bedroom looking for Falke, hoping he was in a better mood so she could talk to him. After crying herself into a headache and stuffy nose, she had decided it was time to come clean.
I thought to give you space by letting you have your own suite, because I know you don't care for me. I want you to have the baby.
Falke thought she didn't care about him. His words replayed over and over again in her head. Hadn't Taura said Falke would hide his emotions? Who would know better than his mother what sort of man he was? Taking a hard look at herself, Sam realized she was the same way. It wasn't like her own father was the shining example of any pure emotion that hadn't been attached to his own personal greed. She felt guilty about the man's death, for she wasn't one to casually take lives, but to say she truly mourned and missed the man would have been a lie.
Thinking of Falke, she swallowed nervously. She never really told people she loved them, just assumed they knew. But with him, if he didn't know how to show love, how would he recognize it in her?
Sam explored his beautiful home, only to find that he was already gone. She cried anew until Tori and Ulyssa came to see why she wasn't in the hall dining with them. They studied her red eyes and tear-stained face with horror before grabbing her and marching her out of Falke's home.
Sam was too weak to protest as they pushed her into the main hall where the palace was gathered to dine. All the tables were full. Falke was there with his brothers. All eyes turned to Sam in her pitiful state and the two women who stood angry and shaking next to her.
"Everybody out!" Ulyssa yelled, her voice booming. "Now!"
It took only a briefly stunned second before all the guards stood, grabbing handfuls of food as they trailed out the door. As a couple passed, she whispered orders to them. Sam couldn't hear what the Queen said, but when they pulled back they were grinning and nodded eagerly. When all the guards were gone, Ulyssa and Tori hauled Sam toward the head table. Sam tried to smile at her crew, but it was a weak effort.
"You as well," the Queen demanded, pointing at Sam's crew. "Go on, before I have you beheaded!"
"She's pregnant," Tori warned. "You better listen."
The men stood and, giving curious glance to Sam who nodded that it was all right, they too left the hall.
"Now you men," Ulyssa began.
"Lyssa?" King Kirill questioned, standing. His brow furrowed with confusion.
"Don't you dare defy a pregnant lady, Kirill. So help me, if you don't get your brothers out of here, I promise to have mood swings for the next fifty years! I'll have you so scared of me you'll be afraid to move without me exploding."
Kirill paled, instantly waving to his brothers. "You heard your Queen, move it."
All men stood. Sam watched the Queen in awe. Her stomach knotted as she met Falke's gaze. He too stood and began to move off the platform. As he strode past, Ulyssa grabbed him.
"Oh, no," she growled. "Not you, Falke. You're staying right here."
Falke looked down at her, his eyes narrowed, but she wasn't intimidated by his size. Tori turned and moved to her husband's offered arm. She smiled shyly at Quinn, motioning toward the door.
"Lyssa? What is this?" Kirill asked, looking almost scared to touch his wife. She gently patted his shoulder, before turning her anger once more to Falke. She glared at him and then Sam.
"I'm too pregnant to watch this, or to deal with you pigheaded Var men any longer," Ulyssa stated. Pointing at Falke, she said, "She loves you. Any fool can see that. Obviously, you are worse than a fool because you are a Var, but that's no longer an excuse. Don't forget, Falke, you've taught me the sword. It'll only be a few months before I'm ready to kick your stubborn ass if you don't straighten up. And believe me, I will do it the second this baby pops out if you make me."
Falke's sharp gaze flickered to Sam. She was pale.
"And you," Ulyssa said to Sam, her lips tight. "I don't know you well enough to know your excuse. Bad childhood? Unloving father? Bad breakup? Well, frankly, I don't care. Falke is crazy about you. He loves you. You're pregnant. You're having a baby and, so help me, you are going to live happily ever after like the rest of us!"
Sam gulped. She couldn't look away from Falke. Was it true? Did he love her or was Ulyssa just guessing as much?
"Briallen," Kirill began softly.
"One second, my love," Ulyssa said, her tone gentling for him. "I just have one more thing, all right?"
"Fine," he answered, smiling at her with love in his eyes. He waved for her to continue.
"Where was I?" Ulyssa asked thoughtfully, turning. "Oh, yes, the happily ever after part."
Sam and Falke both glanced at her.
"I've got palace guards waiting by each door. If you so much as try to escape, they have orders to shoot you in the legs." Ulyssa turned to Falke and warned, "All of them."
Ulyssa glanced down at Falke's midsection. He frowned, his stomach tightening at the thought of losing his male pride. Kirill smirked behind her back.
"Now, you two are going to stay in here until you're both happy or until someone is dead," Ulyssa decreed. "Work whatever nonsense you have out. I'll be outside waiting for my happy couple so we can start planning that baby's new nursery and other important things. Do not disappoint me. I am highly emotional!"
Sam swallowed.
"Now I'm done, honey," Ulyssa purred to her husband, taking his arm. As he led her out, she said, "I hope they hurry up. I'm really hungry. Hey, have we received that shipment of chocolate yet?"
The door shut behind them. Sam turned to Falke. The hall seemed so big and empty with only the two of them.
"She sounded serious." Sam gave a nervous chuckle. Falke stared at her face, looking as he always did. She swallowed, deciding she'd start. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the baby. I was afraid you'd only stay with me because of it and I didn't want that. Then, I was afraid that you'd want to keep the baby and not me. I was right too, because last ... night...."
Sam got choked up and started crying. She buried her face in her hands and felt Falke's arms slip around her shoulders to pull her to his chest. Sam pushed him away and stepped back. She couldn't concentrate when he touched her and she wanted to say this, needed to say it.
"I'm sorry, Falke, I should've told you. But after I bound myself to you and you didn't seem bound to me, I didn't know what to think. I was frightened you didn't want me." Sam sniffed. Her voice was loud and gasping over her sobs, but she kept going, needing to get it out, needing to get her conscience clear. She glanced at his arm, where the blue marking still was. "That's why I went to my father. I'm sorry he tried to kill you, but I had to know for sure if...."
Falke didn't move. His whole body was tight, as he searched her face for the truth. His hands were shaking.
"...if what I thought had happened, had actually happened. The first time, when I did ... and you came ... I didn't just take your pain inside myself. I took you inside myself. I've always been able to heal, but never like that, never without willing my body to do it first. I didn't think it possible for it to happen like that for me. I've always felt more human than Ticara, but you awakened my energies when you touched me, my body just knew that you were the one to give it children. I tried to trap you to the bed to keep you away from me because I knew what would happen if we came together."
"So you admit, you didn't want my child in you," he stated. He no longer looked angry, just sad.
"No," she whispered, gasping for a deep breath as she tried to stop crying. Falke stiffened, as she continued, "No, it's not that I didn't want it. I didn't want you trapped to me. It's obvious how you feel about your family. I didn't want you to think I was another one of your duties. I wanted you to ask me to let you stay with me on my ship. I do want you to come with me, but I'll never ask it. This place, your family ... I've never had that. All I have is that band of misfits and so help me I love them. But, your place is here. Your heart is here. I could never ask you to leave it and I know I can never stay."
Sam took a deep breath and bit her lip.
"Anything else?" he asked, waiting to hear how deeply she felt.
"I'm sorry for having you locked in that cage at the Torganian Market for the Scavenger Hunt?" Sam questioned. "Is that what you mean? I am sorry."
"Anything else?" he insisted, taking a step closer. His dark eyes narrowed.
"I'm sorry for darting you and locking you in the cage, and later the manacles." Sam's heart quickened.
"And?"
"I think I've apologized for everything," she whispered. "Kidnapping you, my father, not telling you about the baby, the Scavenger Hunt--what else is there?"
"And?"
"Well, what about you? Aren't you sorry you kidnapped me, threw me in prison, made me lose the Scavenger Hunt and the Bound Virgin, and cuffed me?" Sam demanded, placing her hands on her hips.
Falke tilted his head to the side, as if considering. "No."
"Ah!"
Falke grabbed her before she could pull away. He held her before him. "I kidnapped you and imprisoned you to keep you with me for the sake of our child. How can I apologize for that? As for the cuffs, mm, no way I'm apologizing. It was too enjoyable. I do apologize that you didn't take pleasure in it."
"Not take pleasure in it?" Sam exclaimed, blushing profusely at the heated memory. Her body stirred. "I enjoyed it so much it put me in a coma for two days. My father was right when he said you'd drain my energies, he just had the method wrong. Since I'm half Ticara and need rest to heal and replenish those energies, and the baby is technically a quarter Roane, who feed off energy, it stands to reason that I'm going to need a lot of sleep."
Falke let a smile curl the side of his mouth. He hadn't thought of it like that. His tone dipped and became impossibly male. "So you enjoyed the cuffs?"
Sam punched his arm. "What about my ship and my prize money? Where's the apology?"
"Your ship," he said, pulling her closer, letting his body settle to hers, "is currently orbiting this planet with one of Jarek's men, Lochlann. The prize money is with Rick. Jarek radioed back, discovered we'd won and had the credits transferred to Rick's account. Mainly because Rick was there, helping to fly the ship at the time."
"What do you mean we won?" she asked. She shot him a sassy grin. "Are you looking for a cut?"
"Sacred Cats! Yes! I'm the one who took the prize, I deserve my piece of the action," Falke said.
"You aren't going to get it," Sam answered, nodding smartly.
"Want to bet on that?" he asked. With each of their words he was pulling her closer to his chest.
"What's the wager?" she asked.
"If I get my cut from the men, you have to stay here with me. Forever," he whispered. "If I don't, then you're free to leave."
"Deal," she said. "I won."
"I didn't even get a chance!" Falke frowned.
"Jarek gave the money to Rick. I bet you anything, he's already spent it all reserving the Galaxy Playmates mansion for a month. The man has no willpower. That's why we never give him the money."
Falke's frown deepened. He pulled away. "So you are leaving?"
"No," she whispered.
"Why? I can't force you to stay," he said. "I keep my word."
"I know," she said. "But you just asked me to stay with you and you always keep your word so you can't take it back. You made the offer, I'm taking it. I'm sorry we'll probably have to leave the palace, but that city didn't look too bad."
"What do you mean, leave the palace?" Falke questioned, fighting the scream of pleasure building inside him.
"Well, you're a Prince and Princes have to marry a Princess. That's the way it works. I'm not really a Princess, just an almost Princess."
Falke threw back his head and laughed. Sam was stunned to hear the joyful sound. He swept forward and lifted her to his mouth. Her arms worked around his neck and her legs wrapped his waist. "You are a Princess."
"No, my father ... the coronation," she stuttered, trying to make him understand.
"You're a Var Princess, my Princess. I mated to you the first moment you kissed me. There will never be another for me. I had no choice in the matter. It was fate. Tell me, when you say you bound to me, what did yo--"
Falke's words were cut off by her kisses. She sprinkled his face with them, stopping to look into his eyes.
"Sam--?" he tried to say and she only kissed him harder, pressing her mouth to his.
"Some things you can't see with your eyes, Falke. Some things you have to see with your heart. It's a good thing because I've been so blind. Thankfully, my heart wasn't. I love you," she whispered. "I made you my husband that night I bound to you, but my heart's loved you since that first moment I saw you."
"You were drunk the first moment you saw me and I was a cat," he teased. Sam smiled. "We are some stubborn fools. If only one of us would've said something sooner."
Sam chuckled, pressing her forehead to his. "And miss out on the adventure? We wouldn't have any stories to tell our children and grandchildren. Though, I might have to leave out a few details."
"I like the sound of that," Falke answered. He kissed her, as he walked toward the doors holding her up in his arms, her legs still wrapped around his waist. "What do you say we go make sure this baby is really, really healthy?"
Sam blushed. "I lied so you'd have to stay with me. We only have to have sex once every two weeks for the baby to survive. The rest was just a ... bonus."
"I'm pretending I didn't hear that," he growled and kissed her harder. "Besides, I'm pretty sure it's been two weeks since--"
"No," Sam pulled back, her mouth falling open. "Don't you remember last night?"
Falke growled again. His eyes widened, as he enunciated, "It has been two weeks."
Sam finally got his meaning and nodded. "You better hurry then."
"Mmm," he nodded, kicking open the door.
Ulyssa stood there, hands on hips. "Oh, no, you--"
"Kirill, kiss your wife and shut her up already," Falke roared, sounding every inch the militant commander. "I'm going to go have sex with mine. Send food if we don't come out in the next three days."
Sam giggled, her limbs pulling tightly around him as he carried her down the hall. Over his shoulder, he saw Kirill kissing his wife passionately. Ulyssa wasn't protesting.
"Will they mind that I wasn't technically a royal before we met?" she asked softly.
"Who?"
"Tori and Ulyssa."
"You're more royal than they are. Tori worked for the Exploratory Science Commission as a scientist and Ulyssa was an undercover agent for the Human Intelligence Agency." Falke chuckled.
Sam grinned. She kissed his neck. Falke walked faster. Coming to their home, he kicked open the door.
"I love you," Sam whispered against his mouth.
"I love you, too, wife," Falke said. No more words were spoken as he carted her off to bed, intending to forever make her his prisoner.
"I don't want to wake up," Sam groaned, grabbing onto her pillow as Falke tried to pull her feet out of bed. She was naked, but didn't care that he looked at her. When he let go, she crawled back on and collapsed. "It's your son's fault. He's making me tired."
"You've been in bed all morning. It is noon and time to get up," Falke scolded.
Sam peeked at him through her lashes. He still never grinned, but it didn't matter. She knew he was smiling at her. His expressions were there, they were just more subtle than most.
Hearing a noise outside the room, Sam sat up. "Who's here?"
"Everyone," Falke answered. He crossed his arms over his chest, his brow rising in amusement.
"Everyone!" she shrieked. "But, I'm a mess. I'm not even dressed yet. How could you invite everyone when--?"
"If you would have gotten up an hour ago when I first tried to drag you out of bed, you'd have had time for your female p--" Falke laughed as she interrupted him.
"I do not primp! Quit saying I primp!" Sam growled hotly, careful not to be overheard by their guests outside the door. She tore into the closet and frantically looked for something to wear. Without the vanity she had on the Bound Virgin, she had to do her own hair and makeup. It was a real pain. Slipping on a comfortable blue dress with cross laces down the arms, she came out.
"I got you something," Falke said, picking up a portable styler from behind the bed. "I had Viktor program all your things in it from the ship."
"Oh, a hair styler!" Sam beamed with instant pleasure, her violet eyes perking up. She pressed the controls and found the short choppy look with the purple streak. Her hair had been growing so fast, she finally had to cut all the purple out. She placed it over her head and a few seconds later she was set to go. "What's everyone doing here anyway?"
"Ah, that's the best surprise!" Falke said. His eyes lit and Sam watched him in curiosity. He was actually giddy with excitement. "Come on!"
"Wait," Sam said, moving to trace the blue marking on his arm. "Where's my kiss?"
Falke leaned down and pecked her lips. "Come on."
"Wait," she pouted. "Baby wants a kiss, too."
Falke grinned, leaned over and kissed the small swell of her stomach, nuzzling it with his face. Smacking his lips soundly on her belly, he pulled back, and shot to his feet. "There, now come on. I told everyone they had to wait for you."
In their living room, Sam saw that when Falke said everyone, he really did mean everyone. Rick and Reid, who'd become nearly inseparable with their shared quest of the female species, talked near the front door. Ulyssa sat on her husband's lap on the couch. Tori was in the chair and Quinn rested on the arm next to her. Jarek, Evan, Dev, Lucien, and Viktor stood before a large viewing screen set up against the wall, looking incredibly pleased with themselves. The screen was bigger than the fireplace.
Sam smiled as everyone teased her for oversleeping. Rubbing her belly, she asked, "What's the screen for?"
"Action," Falke said, his eyes again lighting up with excitement.
"Action?" Sam began, only to chuckle. "You got a screen that big for film?"
Falke nodded as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "Bigger is better."
Sam looked him over. "You got that right."
Falke cleared his throat as everyone began to laugh.
"Let's get this party started," Rick said. "Fire her up!"
"No one is setting fire to my screen!" Falke ordered. Rick laughed.
Jarek held a hand controller and pointed it at the screen. "All right, I have you all set up. I've rigged the palace mainframe speakers in here with the latest surround sound...."
Jarek kept talking, but only the men seemed to be listening because they were all nodding their heads. Sam rolled her eyes at Ulyssa and Tori. The women giggled.
"...just watch," Jarek finished.
They all turned to the screen. Jarek pushed a button. Instantly, an old horror movie came on with an alien popping out of a chest. The sound boomed around them. Kirill and Quinn jumped to their feet, Reid came forward, all three instantly braced for battle.
The rest of the group laughed at them. Jarek paused the screen and after a brief explanation to his brothers, the movie was turned back on--lower in volume due to female protest of the overly loud noise.
"Hey, you ladies look like you could be carrying one of those things," Reid teased. "Are you guys sure there are really babies in there?"
"Reid!" Quinn growled. Laughter rang in the house.
"What else do you have?" Tori asked, holding her stomach protectively.
Lucien picked up a box of chips, and began reading the titles, "Ah, Bound Woman, Bound in Chains, Bound--"
"Ah," Rick announced loudly, rushing forward to steal the box from Lucien. Through his teeth, he gritted, "Those are for Falke ... you know."
"Aw, Rick!" Sam shook her head.
"What? You might like them, too," he defended, grinning wickedly. "I got them from the Bound Virgin database."
Falke looked at his wife.
"What?" she said. "They were already on there when we got the ship. I had nothing to do with it."
Rick laughed. Sam grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him.
"I told you to erase them!" Sam growled.
Rick shrugged. "Must have forgotten."
"Um, yeah," Viktor said, taking the box from Rick. "We'll actually just take these with us when we go. Jarek's computer's going to need to be brought up to speed."
Sam's smile faded slightly. The guys were going on without her. They would be flying off with Jarek to a new adventure.
"Hey, none of that," Evan said at her side. "We'll be back."
"I know," she whispered.
"We're going to be a big part of that baby's life," he asserted. "The minute she's born we'll be back."
"He," Falke stated. "We only have boys."
"Whatever you say." Evan winked at Sam. He handed a piece of paper to Falke. "This is what you asked for."
"I'm going to have to teach him how to fly," Rick asserted. "I know you're keeping the Bound Virgin for little trips through space, but I don't want baby Rick learning to fly from his mother."
"I fly just fine!" Sam laughed. "And the baby is not going to be named after his perverted uncle."
"I'm not perverted," Rick denied.
"Uh, yes you are," Viktor said. "You spent all our prize money to rent the Galaxy Playmate mansion, remember?"
"I gave Sam the red pearls," Rick defended. "And I thought you'd want me to spend your cuts wisely."
Jarek found another movie and Sam turned to ask Falke, "What did Evan give you?"
"Instructions on what to do if you ever get sick," Falke said. "I figured it was something a husband should know."
Sam grinned, touched deeply at the thought. She leaned up and kissed him. Everything was perfect.
Suddenly, a loud explosion sounded on the screen. Sam jumped in fright. Falke pulled back.
"I love you," Falke rushed, kissing her nose. He moved to sit on the couch before the screen. Kirill pushed his wife out of his lap and Quinn squished Tori out of the chair. The women stepped back as the men migrated forward, completely silent as they stared at the screen--mesmerized.
"Huh," Ulyssa said.
"I never," Tori sighed, shaking her head.
"Ah, but you gotta love them," Sam laughed. She hooked her arms through her two sisters' arms and pulled them toward the kitchen. "Come with me, ladies. I got the chocolate."
Sam's eyes met Falke's as she moved away. He nodded, mouthing, "I love you."
She smiled, blowing him a soft kiss, mouthing, "I love you, too."
The End
A sneak peak at
LORDS OF THE VAR:
By Michelle M. Pillow
COMING SOON FROM NCP!
"We ready to take off?" Jarek asked. The men moaned.
"Already?" Rick whined. "We just landed. We still haven't checked out the merchandise."
The men laughed.
"Didn't you get enough?" Lochlann teased, his voice soft and low.
"I swear you tried to conquer the whole Galaxy Playmate mansion," Lucien added.
"Almost," Rick mumbled. "I had to get my money's worth. But I've never been with a ... what kind of creatures are here again?"
"You're not missing a thing," Reid answered. "All snobby old women."
"Ah, but they're rich," Viktor said, raising a finger.
"Yuck." Lucien shook his head. "Not worth it. I can take the age, but not the snob."
"I don't know," Rick answered, his voice laughing. "We are broke."
"Excuse me." Reid heard the soft, feminine sound in the corner of his mind, but it didn't register. All the men ignored it.
"Whose fault is that?" Evan said, leaning over to punch his arm. "You're the one who spent all our scavenger hunt prize money."
"I didn't hear you complaining when Ruby was giving you a lap dance," Rick said, affecting a pout. "Or when Garnet was doing her famous naked massage."
"Oh, yeah," Viktor said. "That was nice. Not very relaxing, but nice."
"Did you see the giant--?" Rick began, getting excited as he motioned his hands as if to make breasts.
"Excuse me!" the feminine voice said louder. She sounded irritated. All eyes turned around. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to interrupt your--you."
Reid's breath caught in his throat. The woman who spoke was no old lady, though she did definitely look like a rich doctor's wife. She was beautiful, not genetically enhanced stripper beautiful, but natural woman beautiful. Looking at her, he much preferred the natural.
She wore a light cream colored gown of silk. The V neck dipped from her slender throat to show a modest amount of cleavage. A gem necklace hung in the V. The silk clung seductively to her body, not tight, just hugging enough that it showed teasing brushes of her curves when she moved. Over the cream dress, she wore a long jacket overdress of light blue. The two sides clasped just beneath her breasts with a sapphire jewel. Both parts of the gown went all the way to the floor.
Reid was disappointed. He wanted to see her legs. He'd bet she had great legs, really long. Licking his lips, he could already imagine pushing them apart--not that it took much to get his active imagination going.
Dark brown hair swept up from her face, crowning her head in a thick braid before trailing freely down over her shoulder. Even partially up, the thick waves hit just below her prefect breasts. Her solid, dark brown eyes looked like Lithorian chocolate and he'd bet her lush lips would taste just as sweet. To his carnal pleasure, her tongue brushed over them nervously.
Her eyes roamed over the crew. That's when he noticed he wasn't the only one staring at her. He glanced at the men. Evan looked polite, but he always looked polite. However, his brow was slightly furrowed in thought. Lucien, Viktor, and Rick all had inviting smiles on their faces. Reid had the insane urge to slap them off.
He frowned. That wasn't like him. The woman was beautiful, why wouldn't they stare at her? Sacred Cats, he wanted to stare at her. Why the hell was he looking at the crew? As he turned back, he caught Jarek's eyes. His brother smiled slightly and Reid knew by the look that he was amused. Jarek was laughing at him.
"I," the woman began. She licked her mouth again and Reid felt his body lurch. "My name is, ah, Mrs. Dr. St. Claire. If I could, I'd like to speak with Ambassador Reid."
Reid let a smile curl on his lips as she finally turned her eyes to look at him. Her hands gripped tightly in front of her waist, her knuckles white. He smiled. How sweet. She was nervous meeting him. It was no wonder, either. He'd seen the men she was exposed to. She probably wasn't used to getting attention from a real man.
"I am Ambassador Reid," Reid said, throwing his voice with sexual confidence. The tone had melted women easily in the past. To his amazement, she stayed upright, not giggling or swooning. In fact, she wasn't even smiling.
"I know, I saw your speech," she answered.
She glanced over his body. Reid grinned. Oh, yeah, Mrs. Dr. St. Claire was definitely checking him out.
"Ah, honey," Rick said. "What do you want with Reid? I'm sure I can help you. I'm the brains of this operation."
"Don't listen to Rick," Lucien immediately put forth. "He's just a pilot. I'm the one with communication skills. Talk to me."
"Oh, don't--" Viktor began.
"Enough!" Jarek ordered, holding up his hand. He shook his head, grinning. "Why don't you guys go make sure all our supplies are on board the ship so we can take off? Reid, why don't you help the lady out?"
Reid grinned and nodded at his brother. Oh, he'd help her out all right. He'd help her out of that dress and then he'd help her to straddle his waist as he....
"Thank you," Mrs. Dr. St. Claire said to Jarek, bowing her head slightly. Jarek smiled. She didn't return the look. Her face stayed blank.
Jarek placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, patting it lightly as he moved to follow the grumbling crew. When they were alone, Reid motioned toward a chair. "It's not fancy, but would you like a seat?"
"No, no thank you, Ambassador," she said.
"Call me Reid."
"Ah, all right, Reid," the woman said. "Reid."
Reid grinned. He shrugged out of his jacket, knowing he'd give her a better specimen to look at if he took the stuffy thing off. "Do you mind? It's hot in here."
"Oh, no, no," she said. "Actually, Ambassador--"
"Reid." Reid threw his jacket over the chair, amused by how she kept her eyes turned to the side.
"Reid," she said, as if the word caused her pain.
"And you are?" he prompted.
"Mrs. Dr. St. Claire," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.
"That's a mouthful, fea," Reid answered, again dipping his voice to see if she'd shiver. She didn't. "You got something smaller?"
"Oh, Jasmine. You may call me Jasmine."
"Jasmine." Reid rolled the name slowly on his tongue. "It's almost as lovely as you are."
The woman actually frowned. It wasn't the response Reid was used to getting to his charm. He stiffened, watching her closely. What exactly was going on here? For a woman who'd come to invite him to bed, she didn't seem all that inviting.
Jasmine eyed the strange ambassador before her. He was even more handsome up close. Dark stubble shadowed the man's chiseled jaw, matching the long black hair that spilled down over his broad shoulders to his waist. He was perfectly built. When he moved, it was with a liquid, streamlined grace. There was something slow and seductive in the way he carried himself--like a hunter crouched, ready to attack, stalking their prey. Too bad she was immune to such things, to him. Her appreciation of his form was like what she'd feel for a beautiful painting, or a sculpture. He was lovely to look at. That was all.
Black leather bands with silver studs gripped tight to his biceps, tautly secured on both of his arms. His shirt appeared to be one piece of material, with two narrow straps over the shoulders. The shirt material was held together by black cross lacing beneath his arms, leaving his sides and waist exposed. She could see dark muscles hidden there. It was as she suspected. This man was strong. He'd be perfect. Now, she only had to convince him to help her.
"I have need of your services, Ambassador." Jasmine bit her lip and hurriedly corrected, "Reid."
He smiled. It really was a roguish look. She wondered if he could help himself. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she had a feeling it wasn't good for her to be this worked up. First, she felt the flutter in the conference hall and now her heart was racing. Maybe it was time to ask Chad about upping her dosage. She'd been on the same level of medication for four years, ever since he diagnosed her heart problem.
His voice low, silky, he inquired, "Do you?"
"Yes," Jasmine said. "I've actually won the door prize, which is fantastic in itself since I've never won anything, and have instructed the servants to load it onto your vessel. I don't know if you're aware, but it's a brand new medical booth. Top of the line. They just came out with it."
"You're just giving us a medical booth?" Reid asked. His brow rose skeptically on his handsome face.
Jasmine swallowed, nervous. It was odd standing alone with a man who wasn't Chad. She began to sweat, doing her best to meet his magnetic eyes.
"Why don't you take your jacket off and sit down?" he asked, motioning to a chair. "You look flushed."
"Thank you." Jasmine nodded. She didn't feel well at all. Being anxious didn't help. Without thinking, she undid the clasp and slid her overdress off. The cooler air helped some.
"Sacred Cats," Reid whispered. "What happened to your arm? Were you combat sparring?"
Jasmine glanced down to the fading bruise. It covered a good portion of her shoulder. She'd forgotten all about it. Sliding her jacket back on to hide it, she latched the overdress.
"Why don't you try out the medical booth and get it fixed?" Reid asked. "Come on. We have an older model on board and it should take care of that. We get banged up sparring all the time and the settings are pre-programmed for healing such things."
"No, thank you," she said. "It's nothing. I had the lights off and hit a wall. The reason I came was--"
"It looks old. It shouldn't take long." Reid eyed her arm, as if he could see it through her dress. She shivered at his obvious concern. It made her uncomfortable.
"No, really, I'm fine. I'll take care of it later." Jasmine took a step back, trying to calm her shaky voice.
"You should take more care when practicing hand to hand combat," Reid said, studying her. His voice dipped with sexual innuendos, as he added, "Though, if you like, I'll show you a few moves. I should like to see what you can do."
"What?" Jasmine asked. Was this man crazy? Was he actually offering to fight her? She glanced over his broad, muscular frame. There was no way a small thing like her could take him down.
"Although, I think there is a reason most women do not fight." He stepped closer. "You're softer and not built for it. Women were meant to be protected." His eyes flickered over her body. "Taken care of." His gaze again met hers and he whispered with meaning, "Pleasured."
Jasmine took a deep breath, choosing to ignore him as she tried to get the conversation back on topic. "Ambassador, I'm giving you the new booth because I wish to commission your services."
A smile again lit his handsome face, making his dark eyes sparkle. When she looked at him, she sometimes swore his eyes were dark brown and at other times they looked almost black. Whatever the color, they were gorgeous.
"Ambassador again, is it? You like men in power?"
"Ah." She shook her head. This man was impossible!
Reid tilted his head to the side and leaned toward her. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was trying to kiss her.
"I need a ride," Jasmine stated, pulling back. "On your ship. Off this planet."
She suppressed a moan of disgust. That wasn't the most elegant phrasing, but already she'd spent too long in the docks. Chad would be wondering where she'd gone off to. And when Chad began to wonder, things got bad--real bad.
"Sorry, fea, but we aren't a shuttle service. Why don't you ask one of these rich doctors? I'm sure they'll have accommodations more to your liking. Besides, wouldn't you be more comfortable with other women on board the ship?"
Jasmine felt as if her heart dropped, which really wasn't a good thing in her case. She swallowed, trying not to shake. She couldn't ask anyone else. There was no one else. Anyone else would tell Chad. She was desperate. Who knew how many more years would pass before an opportunity like this came up? Dabbing her sleeve on her forehead, she said, "I can't ask anyone else. I want to commission you. Please, if the medical booth isn't payment enough, I do have--"
"Listen, Jasmine." Reid lifted his hand, moving as if to touch her arm. She artfully shifted her weight, staying out of his reach. His hand fell to the side. "Can we be blunt here?"
Jasmine nodded, feeling a sense of relief. She preferred blunt. It was so much easier, not always possible, but easier.
"I know you're getting around to asking me to bed you." Reid winked audaciously.
Jasmine's relief left her until all she felt was the raw sting of apprehension, which in turn became utter and complete dismay. Could this primitive really be that arrogant?
"I'm fine with that. In fact, if you like, I'll arrange for some privacy on the ship for us. I can be very discreet. But that's all I can offer, fea. I'm not taking you with me. I'm flattered that you'd think to like me so much that you'd want to come away with me for an exotic flight of pure, rapturous pleasure, but I'm not the commitment type. So, what do you say? Want to go have sex real quick and--?"
Jasmine felt the blood drain from her face at his words. He was serious. Hissing between her teeth, she hotly declared, "I do not want to have sex with you!"
To learn more about the Lords of the Var series, or Michelle M Pillow's other titles, please visit her website (www.michellepillow.com).

