The Bound Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “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. In truth, she’d come because of Falke. Not for fuel money, like she’d told the crew, but to confirm what she already knew. She’d bound herself to Prince Falke of the Var.

  “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 she saw 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’d said.

  19

  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, Falke 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, and she’d 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 are we going?” he asked.

  “To 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 were in my power, I would,” Falke said. “Or if you asked it of me.”

  “That will never happen.” Sam made a very unladylike noise and appeared distracted.

  Falke grinned. This was the Sam he knew from the ship, despite the formal gown. “Do you truly wish to run from this?” He sat beside her and 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.

  “Do you think I should stay?” Sam asked, sounding strangely compliant.

  “What would change if you did?” Falke asked.

  “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 differently?” 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’, just commands.”

  “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 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, when she saw the look on his face. “We have to get you out of here.”

  “What is it?” Sam asked.

  “Your father is planning your coronation,” Evan said.

  “I know, it’s fine, Evan.” Sam smiled at him. “I’m going. What harm is there? I have thought about the situation. It’s not so bad.”

  “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.”

  “Blasted spaceholes! 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, clearly 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 afterward, 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 seem 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’s 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 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 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’d just agreed to put on a show in the hall and then kill herself, he believed the man spoke the truth. Even i
f 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’ve 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, and she’ll be stuck like this for the rest of her life.”

  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.”

  Falke studied Sam as Evan left them alone. She didn’t look at all concerned by what was happening. He cursed himself for being a fool and 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. She didn’t protest.

  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 quietly. “Let me.”

  “Both,” Dev compromised.

  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 love you. You are very loveable.”

  “Rick!” Evan punched the man’s arm.

  “Aw, come on,” Rick chuckled. “It’s kind of funny.”

  Falke shook his head in disgust at the juvenile banter. Everyone shut up as he shifted into tiger form. Their eyes widened in amazement. He leaped 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 through his, and he led her to the ship.

  Falke flinched and let a low growl sound in the back of his throat. It took everything he had not to turn back around and cut Rick.

  “Damn it, Rick!” Evan swore, grabbing 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 the others hurried on board. Only when everyone was safe did they follow. Within moments, the door was sealed, and Rick was doing his best to get them off the planet.

  Falke turned his shifted head to Evan and gave a nod as the ship jerked violently. The man slowly set his clothes down, careful to keep his hands away from his shifter mouth. Falke placed a paw on the clothes to keep them from sliding across the floor and then let his body transform into his human shape. He didn’t care if the crew saw him naked. There was no way he was leaving a vulnerable Sam alone with Rick.

  Sam held Rick’s 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 the atmosphere. “I want to be long gone before her father discovers we’re missing.”

  Falke pulled Sam into his arms. She smiled, blinking as she looked at him. “I love Rick.”

  “That’s nice.” Falke growled, glaring at Rick.

  “I got this, prince.” Evan smacked the pilot over the back of his head.

  Rick chuckled. “Still think it’s funny.”

  “Get her to her room and put 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 gladly took Sam out of the pilot’s presence. When they were alone, he held her by the chin and forced her to look at him. Very sternly, he stated, “Sam, you are not in love with Rick.”

  She smiled. “If you think that’s best.”

  “Come on. Let’s get you to that medic.”

  20

  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?” 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’s eyes were shaded as he watched her. His lips 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 bee
n?”

  “We left last night. It’s just past morning,” Falke answered. Now that she studied him up close, 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 complex man standing before her. She knew he was a warrior and the Commader of the Var armies. By all the stars! She’d even felt the intensity of the pain he’d been in when she’d captured him. He’d never let on then either. But, until that moment, she’d never realized what a tough life he must have lived, how strong his insides must be to survive such a life. When he was with her, he was strangely tender, oddly so, 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 with 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.