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 motion, he pulled her around and laid her along the wide couch beneath him.
He moaned softly when he looked 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 forcefully, 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.
17
Ticaron was a wonderland of lush countryside, exquisite flowers and trees, babbling streams and moderate temperatures. It appeared to be the very definition of paradise. Sam felt her hair stirring over her shoulders, as she gazed down the docking plank. She didn’t need to see the planet to know what it looked like. Sure, to most it appeared to be 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.
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 followed.
“I shall be the one to protect you, Sam, if you suspect you are in danger,” Falke stated, his lips tight. “I am your—”
Before he could continue, Sam turned to him with a determined look. Falke frowned.
“While we are here, you are no longer my lover. You are not to act possessively. 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 was the one who’d 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 gave a low growl 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 hands directly to the side. He wore a shirt of dark blue, with the same sweeping sleeves as her gown. The shirt hung long, falling open at the front waist to expose his silver pants.
“Xantha, my daughter,” he said, smiling wider. “You have come back to me.”
Sam lifted her arms in a similar greeting and made a small curtsy with arms extended. “Gretori Zothos, my father.”
Falke watched Sam in silence, but she felt his eyes on her.
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 silent acknowledgment 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, less aggressive than before. “What Roane family?”
“My father was king of the 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 Commader 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.
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 ole 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 her father’s 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 the crew.
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. They 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 looked 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.”
Falke let Sam’s father lead him away from the ship. He did not wish to be rude, and Sam did say men were supposed to walk first. It took everything he had not to look back longingly at her.
Zothos was slender, almost effeminate in stature, much like the men who followed him. Falke guessed by their bows and daggers that the man’s entourage was composed of what the planet had to offer by way of warriors. They would need the weapons as the race was obviously not built for true battle.
Falke had been shocked that Zothos could detect the connection Falke had with his daughter with one brief look. It was clear by his demeanor that the man was very powerful and cunning, and not just because he carried a title on his planet.
When her father gave his marriage blessing, Sam had paled and swayed on her feet. For a moment, he thought he would have to catch her. She’d not been prepared for that statement, and it hadn’t brought her much pleasure.
Sam appeared different as a princess—elegant, refined, and incredibly stiff. Her expressions were forced, and she did not smile like she did in her role as the captain on her ship. One thing was for certain. She was not happy to be home.
18
“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 difficult 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. Each corner seemed to be filled with either furniture or decorations. 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 for a ‘talk’. It would basically be him talking and her listening.
&nb
sp; “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 lessons. 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 so that I may 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 about 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 have often wished to remedy the rashness of that one decision.”
“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, except 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 been able to leave the palace, word came that her mother was dead. Sam left anyway.
“Why do you come here then?” he asked.
The Bound Prince Page 11
