by Shannon West
Mate of the Tyger Prince, Book 8
Royal Captive
Shannon West
Royal Captive
Copyright © 2019 Shannon West
Published by Painted Hearts Publishing
About the eBook You Have Purchased
All rights reserved. Without reserving the rights under copyright, reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, is forbidden. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.
Unauthorized reproduction of distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Royal Captive
Copyright © 2019 Shannon West
ISBN 10: 1-946379-67-0
ISBN 13: 978-1-946379-67-2
Publication Date: August 1, 2019
Author: Shannon West
Editor: Ashley Kain
All cover art and logo copyright © 2019 by Painted Hearts Publishing
Cover Design by E Keith
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Chapter One
The royal palace of Tygeria
King Davos sat by the bedside of his mate, holding his hand and waiting for him to swim back up to consciousness. “Nobyo,” he said softly. “Wake up and meet your son.”
Blake’s eyes fluttered for a moment and then flew open as he looked around himself, his eyes disoriented and confused. Since they’d returned from Tveir, he often awoke that way, unsettled for a moment before he realized he was home and safe in his own bed. Most nights he didn’t calm down until Davos held him close, murmuring slowly and sweetly to him until he’d lulled him back to sleep. This time, Davos leaned in and brushed his lips across his forehead. “You’re fine, nobyo. The delivery went well and the doctors were pleased.”
“The baby?” he asked hoarsely. “Where is he?”
“The baby’s doctor will bring him to you in just a moment. They’re making measurements and checking him carefully. He’s a bit small, but they think he’s perfect.”
“Small? How small?”
“Just over eleven pounds, but don’t worry. They’re ready to give him help with his breathing if he needs it.”
“What do you mean ‘give him help with his breathing?’ Why?”
Davos looked puzzled, though he continued to pat Blake’s hand soothingly. Blake pulled his hand away gently, and lay back against the pillows, his eyes bright with worry, but making an effort to appear calm. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Now tell me. What’s wrong with our baby?”
“It’s just that he’s so small. I told them to take every precaution.”
“Eleven pounds is not small! It’s a perfectly good weight for a half-human baby,” he explained to his husband. “Maybe even a little chubby. How long was he? Does he have all his fingers and toes? When can I see him?”
“In just a moment, nobyo, I told you, and yes, he’s perfect. He’s only half-human, and I don’t know this word you’re using—this ‘chuvvy.’ As for how long he is, I have no idea. You can ask the doctor if you like.”
“Not ‘chuvvy,’ ‘chubby,’ with a ‘b.’ And it means a little fat. Pleasingly plump. Like you,” he said, reaching over to pat Davos’s perfectly flat, hard abs. Davos stared down at Blake’s hand and then back up at his face, his expression both horrified and incredulous.
“What do you mean?”
The door opened, sparing Blake the need to reply, and the doctor came in carrying a small bundle. He walked over and placed it in Davos’s arms. He stepped back with a deep bow.
“The child is doing well, Sire. His size is unfortunate, but we can give him growth hormones, if you like.”
“Give me my baby,” Blake said, shooting a dagger-like look at the physician. “And don’t you dare give him any of your noxious potions, you—”
“Blake!” Davos interrupted, and stood to put himself between the doctor and his mate. “Thank you. But you may leave us now.”
The doctor bowed his way from the room. Davos glanced down at the baby and smiled before immediately passing him over to his mate, who was holding out his arms impatiently.
“Growth hormones, my ass. Oh Davos, look at him,” Blake said with both reverence and excitement, his lovely face shining. “He’s so pretty!”
Davos smiled indulgently. “Yes, he is. He looks like you. But he’s also a Tygerian male. They’re not supposed to be pretty.”
“You are,” Blake said, then laughed out loud at Davos’s second shocked expression of the day.
“Look at all this blond hair. And his skin is so creamy. Little fat, pink cheeks,” Blake exclaimed, leaning over to kiss them. “I just adore him already. He’s perfect!”
Davos gazed down at him a bit dubiously. The child was pretty, and that, along with his size was bothersome. The baby was bigger than a human child, but nowhere near the size their other children had been at birth, Or Mikol, for example, when he was born. Mikol, Ryan and Mikos’s baby, had been roughly the size of a two or three-month-old human, according to what Blake had said, and he had grown rapidly. Now he was as tall as Blake, and he was only nine cycles old.
Davos sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to keep an armed guard or two on him when he gets older and starts to court possible suitors. Even that might not work. I imagine he’ll be far too beautiful to let out of our sight for long.”
“I’ll never let either him or Nicarr out of my sight again if I can help it,” Blake replied softly, his eyes filling with tears again and taking on a familiar bleak look.
Davos nodded, deciding it was best not to say anything at all when he got like this. They sat in silence for a few moments. Blake continued to sigh and fuss over the child, unwrapping him from his blanket to count each finger and toe.
“What will we name him?” Davos asked after a moment, hoping to change the subject. It was considered unlucky on Tygeria to name a baby until after it was born, so while they’d discussed a few names, they hadn’t yet settled on one.
“I’d like to call him William, after my father, but I guess that won’t work.”
“We could, but it would have to be his second name, and we couldn’t call him by that name officially. It’s too Earthan, and I don’t think the people would accept it. Not that much time has passed since the war, and my people’s memories are long. It’s going to be hard enough for them to accept the way he looks. Admire him, yes. But accept him as their prince the way they do the other boys? I’m not so sure.”
“Then you’ll make them.”
Davos smiled indulgently at his mate. “Yes, nobyo. I’ll make them.”
“We could give him one of your father’s names too, if that would help. Or one of yours.”
“We’ve already given them to the other boys. I wish we could name him after you, but there is one name I like that reminds me a great deal of you, and one I’ve always admired—Rakkur.”
“Rakkur…but why would that remind you of me?”
“It means brave, beautiful one.”
Blake’s hormones must have still been in disarray, because his eyes shone w
ith tears again in a way that made Davos want to put his arms around him to soothe him. Surely, Blake knew he was beautiful. And brave—the bravest person Davos had ever known. As a warrior, Davos knew that courage wasn’t the absence of fear—far from it. It was going on and persevering despite the fear, and despite the worst that life threw at you. Blake persevered. He never gave up, and Davos thought that it was one of his most attractive and finest qualities, if also, on occasion one of his most annoying. Blake had kept going since the day they learned Larz hadn’t been recovered, though Davos knew his grief over his lost child had come close to overwhelming him, and he still hadn’t given up hope.
They had arrived back on Tygeria after their strange journey to the planet Tveir in an alternate universe, when the child now in Blake’s arms had only just gotten started inside him. They learned then that four long cycles had passed since they’d left Tygeria and traveled to the strange and almost identical universe that existed alongside their own. And while they’d been lost in time and space, Larz, their sixteen-cycle-old son, whose ship had disappeared on the way to a training camp, had never been recovered. Mikos, their eldest child, had broken the news that he was now presumed dead, though of course, they’d never given up looking for him and the rest of his crew.
Blake had been stronger than Davos had even thought possible, and though Davos himself had privately come to the heartbreaking conclusion that Larz was lost to them, Blake adamantly refused to believe it. He continued to chase down every lead, no matter how inconsequential or how small. Occasionally, however, grief still overwhelmed him.
Blake reached blindly for Davos’s hand and squeezed it. “I think that’s a beautiful name. Thank you.” He looked down at the infant in his arms and bent to kiss his cheek. “Hello, Rakkur. I’m so very glad to meet you, darling.”
The door opened again and a handsome, well-loved face peered around the corner. “Can I come in?” Mikos said. The door pushed all the way open as his son Mikol barreled past him and flung himself on the end of the bed, bouncing in excitement.
“I couldn’t wait to see the baby, omak-ahn. My father said you might not feel like having company, but I told him you always want to see me! I’m right, aren’t I? You’re glad I came?”
Blake laughed over Mikos’s protests and held out his other arm for Mikol to crawl into. He was getting a little too big for cuddling, but they could still make it work. “That’s absolutely right! I’m always glad to see you.” He held the baby over for Mikol to see. “This is Rakkur. We named him just now, though, of course, it’s not official yet. Not until we take him before the priests. Don’t you think he’s beautiful?”
Mikol pursed his lips and stared down at the new baby, as if trying to make up his mind. “I guess so, but he’s kind of small. And he’s got hair like yours. When will it turn red?”
“It won’t. Or at least, I don’t think so. Mine never did and I think his hair might stay blond.”
“Oh. Well, he can’t be beautiful like everyone says you used to be. He’s a boy.”
“Used to be, huh? So what do you think I am now?”
“You’re my omak-ahn.”
“Okay, I stand corrected. Can he be handsome, then? Like you?”
Mikol grinned back at him, but Mikos suddenly scooped Mikol up in his arms before he could reply and carried him to the door, despite his loud protests that he was too big to be carried around. He put him on his feet next to a servant. “No, Mikol, we agreed on just a quick peek at the new baby. Now say goodbye to your grandparents, because you have to go to your lessons, and you can see both them and the new baby later. I have important things to discuss with them now.”
“Goodbye, omak-ahn! Grandfather! I have to go to lessons now, but I’ll be back. Don’t worry!”
Davos chuckled, while Blake blew him a kiss before Mikos closed the door on his grumbling and procrastination. He turned back to his parents with a sigh. “Sorry about that. He didn’t want to take no for an answer. His omak spoils him, I think.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure it’s all Ryan’s fault,” Blake replied, smiling at his son, who doted on Mikol shamelessly, but blamed Mikol’s bad behavior on his mate, Ryan. “Have you seen your new brother?”
“I have, and he looks just like you, omak.” He glanced over at his father. “We’ll have to be careful with him.”
“Indeed,” Davos said, frowning. “If he’s anything like his omak, he’ll have every courtier and guard in the palace wrapped around his little finger before he’s a year old. And when he reaches puberty…”
“We should make a suitable betrothal for him while he’s still very young.”
“Yes. I heard the emperor of Pyleria has a handsome young son. Already a promising young warrior at only twelve cycles.”
“Just stop,” Blake said, glaring at both of them. “You’ll have plenty of time to plan out his future. But for now, he’s my baby, and I want to enjoy him without picturing him with twelve-year-old heathens in war paint.”
Davos frowned. “But the Pylerians aren’t heathens. They share the same religion as the Tygerians, along with common ancestors.”
“Which is my point, exactly. Heathens to a man. Now hush—Rakkur’s trying to sleep.”
“For now,” Davos said, leaning back in his chair, feeling more relaxed now that Blake was awake and the baby was doing well. “He’ll be keeping us up at night soon.”
“What’s this ‘us’ you’re talking about? You sleep like a dead man, or at least you pretend to, when the babies cry during the night.”
Davos smiled indulgently. He loved the bickering back and forth with his mate, though the fierce warrior king would never allow anyone else to talk to him the way Blake did. They’d been doing it since they first met, and he’d always admired Blake’s sassy defiance, even when he longed to put him over his knee, or take him to bed and fuck the meanness out of him. He glanced again at the new baby’s pouty, perfectly pink lips, which were just like Blake’s and smiled again. “Yes, nobyo. Now, son, what did you want to discuss with us?”
Mikos came over to sit on the side of the bed and took Blake’s hand in his. Blake looked up at him curiously.
“We may have some information, omak…about Larz.”
Blake gasped, pulling back his hand. “What kind of information?” he asked, his voice tense and barely controlled.
Mikos glanced back and forth between his parents. “A Lycan diplomatic delegation recently returned from the K-8 galaxy has reported a sighting.”
“Oh God!” Blake sat up straighter and reached blindly for Davos’s hand. Davos took it in his and squeezed it reassuringly.
“Tell me,” Blake whispered.
“They said the young man they saw…they said they had no doubt it was Larz. He was physically fine, Omak. Not harmed.” Mikos patted his omak’s leg.
“Oh, thank God!” He reached for Davos again and stopped, looking sharply back at his son.
“What do you mean ‘physically’ he’s fine?
“They said the young man seemed to be in good health.”
“But…?”
“But Omak, we have to make sure before you get your hopes up too high. This might not be him. They said they took images of the young man without anyone noticing, and they’re sending them. I’ll bring them as soon as they arrive.”
“There’s still something you’re not saying.”
Davos interrupted. “Tell us what you know so far. Where is he? You said the K-8 galaxy?” Davos asked, carefully holding his own emotions in check. If this was yet another false trail, he wasn’t sure if Blake could withstand it. While they’d been gone and over the four cycles that Larz’s ship had been missing, only four young males had been recovered—one crewman and three of the young passengers who had been onboard the ship with Larz, which had been heading toward a training facility.
The young men had all told stories of being attacked out of the blue by slavers. None of them could identify their captors, though they all said it
was no people they had ever seen before, and the young boys hadn’t seen or hadn’t been able to identify any markings on the ship. The oldest boy, a crewman, just eighteen cycles old, had been sold first to work as a laborer on the Tinium mines in the Mondolian mountains. He had been located after only a cycle by a stroke of luck. One of the Nilanium traders who did business with the Mondolians spotted him as he helped load a shipment and made an offer for him that was so high the Mondolians took it on the spot. When he brought him home to Tygeria, he had been well rewarded by the young man’s family. The boy, who was named Erus, said he remembered seeing Larz on the slave ship, but lost track of him after a few days.
He had provided clues that helped them find the three other boys. All of them had been sold as love slaves, and ill-treated. Men and women who bought Tygerians as their “pets” were often the type who wanted to break them to their will, and frequently beat and caged them. All three of the boys had been damaged emotionally. One of them had killed himself soon after arriving back home, despite his family’s best efforts to help him.
Davos knew how much Blake had suffered when he heard that news. His imagination, which had always been colorful, worked overtime as he pictured in his mind what might have happened or could still be happening to Larz. Davos glanced over at Blake’s pale face carefully, forcing his attention back to what Mikos was telling them.
“Laltana. That’s where they saw him. The Lycan delegation has just returned from the planet. They were meeting more specifically with the Herkon people, who live on one of the three large land masses on the planet. They’re ruled by a king named Janos.”
Davos nodded. “Laltana? Remind me what we know about that planet.”
“It’s is not terribly advanced,” Mikos replied, “though they do have some modern aspects. And I know a little about King Janos. He’s a young man. Perhaps about twenty-seven of his time units, which are similar to Earth’s. You might remember that he and his late father sided with the Alliance during the war. He was taken prisoner at the Battle of Helios. He was brought before us before his release. His father was one of the combatants I killed at Helios in battle, and Janos was…difficult to control as a prisoner. He’s extremely intelligent, and if he’s behind the kidnapping it could have been fueled by revenge. He was naturally bitter about his father and his time spent as a prisoner of war, as were many of the Alliance leaders we kept captive until the end of the war. But unlike most of the others, Janos refused to sign any peace agreements.” Mikos glanced quickly over at Blake, who was avidly listening to the conversation. “Janos has a well-known and quite marked hatred for all things Tygerian. He makes no secret of it.”
