The Bound Prince

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Looking her over, he nodded in manly appreciation. The space captain was pretty, slender. Though she dressed tough, she looked as if she would be completely feminine once she was stripped of her clothing. Too bad she was the heartless 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 airspace in less than an hour.

  26

  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’d 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 of their ship. 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 guards. 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 at the dead bodies. “What have you done? What is this?”

  “If you will not come peacefully,” Zothos said. He glanced meaningfully down at the dead bodies. “Then we will finish the rest of 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 motion 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 eye, 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 wounded 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 at 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. They have a gun on Sam.”

  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 wondered what Evan was up to. He could’ve taken these men. He could’ve fought. She’d seen him win against worse 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 over 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 no use. The man was too strong to break away from. He wasn’t 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 attention, 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. I need to try. 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 strained to hold her breath, attempted to resist, but couldn’t. Taking a big gulp of air, she felt blackness consume her. She endeavored to fight it, but in the end she fell limp against her captor’s hold.

  27

  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 takeoff 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 neede
d 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 that 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 lights illuminated their way, running in intermittent strips like arches along the walls and overhead.

  “Captain Samantha’s father,” Falke answered. “My guess is that they intended to take 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? Is she the bad guy or not?”

  “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. Trig 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 avoiding the blow aimed at 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, breathing heavily as he tried to regain control. 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. The Var had excellent hearing though and it hadn’t been too difficult. 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 by, 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 take him back and drop him off...”

  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 lifestyle, and he’d be damned if his son would be raised in a spaceship, cruising around the universes 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.

  “By the way, it’s good to see you again, brother,” Jarek said. “It’s been too long.”

  “It’s good to see you too,” Falke answered, suddenly very tired. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

  28

  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 continued, “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.” 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 always be honest. How dare you make us have a part of this!”

  “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 mimicked his movement and also 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 sank onto the cot. “It’s not what you think. I have Ticara blood. 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 grumbled.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Sam gasped 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.