Royal Captive

by Shannon West

  “It’s not too much, and you’ll take everything I give you and ask for more. Won’t you?” He licked up the side of Janos’s face and he shivered all over.

  “Yes, yes, I’ll take it. I-I love you so much, Bastion. So much!”

  Bastion pulled his fingers away and eased in the tip of his big cock. He’d used the slick substance on it too, and it slid a little way in and then Bastion stopped, just barely breaching his hole. His breath was hot and fast in Janos’s ear. “Like this?” he asked breathlessly. He nipped his earlobe, making Janos shudder and cry out. Janos bucked back against him and impaled himself on Bastion’s cock. The move surprised both of them.

  “Eager, nobyo? You must really need my typpid inside you.”

  “I do! Oh Bastion, please. Fuck me, please!” He knew he wasn’t being quiet anymore and he gave a fleeting thought to whether or not he was waking Taran up. Then Bastion began to move and all thought left him in a torrent of lust. They both groaned and Bastion gripped his hips and began to really thrust into him, hitting a place inside him that lit Janos up with pleasure. He started to scream and Bastion’s hand came over his mouth. He gave a little shaky laugh and tightened his hand over his mouth.

  “Unh, uh. You have to be good and do as I say. You’re so tight, baby. So good. Promise you’ll be good for me and I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

  Bastion nodded his head frantically and tried to mumble. “I’ll be good,” past Bastion’s fingers. Bastion dropped a kiss on his shoulder and began to push in and out, his free hand reaching around to stroke Bastion’s cock.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered, warming Janos’s heart each time he asked. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Feels good,” Janos groaned, surprised he could get even that much out. His orgasm had already built to the point of an explosion. It had been far too long and it was teasing him, just out of reach.

  Bastion seemed to know, like he knew everything that had been happening to him, and he whispered to him. “Then come, nobyo. Come in my hand.”

  Those words were all it took to make Janos convulse with pleasure. He did scream this time, but he buried his face in his arm and tried to ride it out, this uncontrollable wave of pleasure. Larz gripped him tightly and then groaned as his own climax ripped through his body. He sagged down on top of him and they lay together panting for breath but unable to move for a few moments. Taran must have slept through it all, because he hadn’t made a sound.

  Finally, Bastion rolled reluctantly off beside him and reached over to pat Janos’s ass possessively. “Mine,” he said, reduced to words of one syllable apparently. Janos thought he was doing well at that, because he couldn’t say a word. He was far too happy, too breathless and too drained.

  After a while, Bastion rose and went to find a cloth to clean them both off. The stickiness would have to wait until morning. He let Bastion take care of him and rolled lazily to his back.

  “I wanted our first time to be in bed, but I think this was better than I could have ever dreamed.” Bastion leaned over him to kiss him again and Janos slung an arm around his neck to pull him down beside him.

  “Never leave me,” Bastion said softly, and the words made Janos freeze. What if Bastion wanted to leave him when he found out that he’d known all along who he was and had deliberately stalled telling his parents so he could keep him close by. Would he hate him then? How could he lose this now?

  “I-I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually. I know my brother gave you to me, but…there are things you should know, and I want to tell you. And I’m ready to tell you now, but—maybe it’s best if we wait. Maybe I should tell you when we get back to the palace.”

  “No, I don’t want to hear how you shouldn’t be with me or how you wish you hadn’t made love to me.”

  “No, Bastion, I don’t feel that way. I love you!”

  “Good. I love you too and you’re my nobyo now. End of discussion.”

  “But I…I have things to tell you. We should talk.”

  “Shh. No. We won’t talk now. We need to go to sleep because I want to make love to you again, but I don’t want you to be sore in the morning, so we have to wait.”

  “Yes, I know about all that, but…”

  “No more talking about it now, nobyo, because it makes me ache too much for you, and I can’t have you again—not yet.” He dropped a kiss on his forehead and sighed. “When we get back to Wirlo. We can talk more then.” He rolled off Janos onto his back and pulled Janos to lie half across him, burying his fingers in Janos’s hair and pulling his head down to his chest. “Sleep now, and I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

  Janos opened his mouth to protest, but Bastion put a finger over his lips and made a shushing sound. “You need to go to sleep. Tomorrow will be an important day for you, and you need your rest.” He kissed and nuzzled the top of Janos’s head. “I have to take care of you now, because you belong to me.”

  The sweetness of the man, the innocence and the coaxing, arrogant, seducing domination all combined to disarm Janos and leave him speechless. What was he going to do with him? How could he tell him he’d known for the past almost four years who he really was? How could he tell him he’d kept him away from his home and his family deliberately? Bastion would hate him when he knew. He continued to stroke Janos’s hair, his shoulders, his neck…anywhere he could reach, as if he just wanted to feel him under his hand, and slowly, despite his stormy thoughts, Janos began to relax, to melt against him. It had been too long since he’d felt this way. No, he’d never felt this way before about anyone, and he couldn’t bear the thought of what he’d think when he found out. He didn’t think he could stand to lose him now.

  These feelings were something new, something unprecedented. It was like the first time he’d been strapped into a seat on a ship heading for outer space as a boy. His heart had been thumping wildly, and he felt exhilarated yet terrified, knowing there were only two ways off this ride—either he was about to crash and burn or he was about to go on an incredible adventure. Either way, it was totally out of his hands and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. All he could do now was take the ride. He closed his eyes and relaxed into sleep.

  They reached Wirlo just before noon the next day, and that had been the most harrowing part of their trip so far. The sentries began firing arrows at them as they approached, and they couldn’t get close enough to tell them who they were or explain the LV with its Athelonian markings. Finally, it was Bastion’s red hair that saved the day. Hours after they first arrived, still parked outside the range of the arrows, Bastion’s friend Luc was one of the soldiers who relieved the men on duty at the gate, and it was he who finally recognized Bastion. He talked the captain into opening the gate for him to go through, and he came running out to meet his friend, whom he’d left behind for dead on Lityba. It took Luc a moment of excited back slapping and apologizing and hugging to realize that the man traveling with Bastion was King Janos. Luc fell down on his knees, in complete shock, yelling back at the other guards.

  “Open the gates, you dumb asses!” the human shouted. “This is the king!”

  “The king! The king!” The shout went up and down the wall and finally the gate was swung wide and officers and soldiers began to swarm out, running to greet them. Janos was gratified and honestly a little astonished to see how happy his people were at his return.

  They were given a hero’s welcome as they came back into the city, and Janos was separated from Bastion and a terrified Taran, whom Janos had last seen riding Bastion’s broad shoulders as Bastion’s fellow soldiers pounded him on the back, amazed at his return from the dead. Janos’s ministers surrounded him, as well as his courtiers, and began to bear him off into the palace. Things got louder and more chaotic as people began to stream out into the courtyard, until a hundred people or more separated them. Finally, Janos came to a complete halt and refused to go another step.

  When his councilors looked at him questioningly, he raised his
hand and said, “Stop! I won’t be separated from my companions. Bastion, Taran! Come to me, please!”

  The crowd slowly parted and Janos saw Bastion striding confidently toward him, cocky grin firmly in place, with Taran still perched on his shoulders and clinging to him for dear life. He smiled at Bastion and held out his hand, as his councilors’ mouths dropped open in shock. “Come with me, please,” Janos told Bastion as he came up beside him. He turned to look at his incredulous councilors. “This brave man saved my life, and he and this boy single-handedly destroyed the Athelonian cannons. You should all be on your knees thanking them.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Larz sat up, stretching his arms up over his head. His back ached a bit—he’d never get used to these soft mattresses, much like the one his omak always preferred at home. They made your bones too soft and your muscles ache. He stood up, leaving Janos still asleep beside him and crossed over to the window to look out. The sun was rising, so he needed to get dressed and go fetch Taran from the room next door and take him down for first meal. Afterward, he could bring up something for his nobyo and wake him up so he could eat. Left to his own devices, Janos often didn’t eat more than once a day, and that wasn’t healthy for him. All that would change now that he belonged to Larz.

  In the days since they’d been back, with decent clothes on his back and three good meals a day in his belly, Taran had begun to look more healthy, too, and less like a raggedy street urchin. His smart mouth was still unchanged, though Larz secretly thought he might miss it if Taran didn’t give him a hard time. He was still a bit clingy around other Herkons, but was beginning to realize how rapidly his fortunes had changed, since the king had openly called him a hero and taken him under his wing.

  Taken them both, really, since Larz’s situation had changed rapidly, too, once they’d got back to Wirlo. He was no longer a soldier, but now a part of the king’s personal palace guard, and he slept inside the palace every night. Actually, he spent every night in the king’s bed, as Janos wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He’d been given medals and gold, though he had little use for either one, and best of all, he had become more or less an unofficial advisor to the king. Janos spent every morning with his ministers and councilors and every afternoon talking things over with Larz and asking his opinions. Larz didn’t know much about Herkon affairs, but he shared some stories of his father and speculated about what Davos might do in a similar situation. It seemed to help. Their talks were always private, but Janos listened and their talks had real substance, or so Larz believed.

  He glanced back over at where Janos lay sprawled out on his back, his knees drawn up and his legs open wide with a peaceful smile on his face. Larz had made love to him for over an hour when he woke up with one of his bad dreams in the middle of the night, and just before he’d fucked him back to unconsciousness, he’d told him to sleep late in the morning, as Larz knew he was still tired from his ordeal at Lityba. He fell asleep and had barely moved since.

  These occasional orders he gave Janos were new too, and kept just between themselves for when they were alone or in bed. Larz had decided to take gentle charge and ease Janos into it. He didn’t like the way the people around Janos took advantage of him, so he had instituted a few new rules for who was allowed to see the king and for how long. The courtiers had all come to hate Larz, in a very short span of time, knowing somehow that he was behind it, and the councilors didn’t much know what to think of him. That was fine with Larz. He didn’t seek or need anyone’s approval except Janos’s.

  Janos’s brother, Prince Tibiel, had been a problem. He’d been summoned from his country estate when word had first come of King Janos’s capture, but he still hadn’t arrived by the time they returned, even though he’d been urgently sent for. Larz thought he was probably waiting to see what happened with the Athelonian forces, and was protecting himself from danger, despite the fact that his country needed him. Tibiel had made several calls on his communicator to Janos since they’d returned, but Larz had advised him to ignore them, at least for now. If Tibiel wanted to speak to Janos, he could do so in person and in front of Larz.

  As for the Athelonians, they had turned around and disappeared back across their own borders after their cannons had been destroyed. The weapons had apparently been Farish’s big play, and without them, he must have lost confidence in his ability to storm across Herkon and take its capitol city. Janos had filed a formal complaint against Prince Farish with the Athelonian government and relations were now at an all-time low between Herkos and Athelon. They were locked in a tense stand-off, but this time it looked as if the Farlians would side with Herkos against them and throw the weight of their armies into the mix.

  Prince Farish’s use of the cannons had been an egregious error, and the final straw, it seemed. Janos demanded that the Athelonians turn Farish over to face a tribunal made up of both Herkon and Farlian ministers. If they refused, he planned to go in after him, arrest him and see him prosecuted for war crimes, and the Farlians had vowed to help. Farish’s duplicity had caused the deaths of many of Janos’s best soldiers and officers, including his uncle, General Losef.

  The only thing left for Larz to do now was to talk to Janos about who he really was. Janos needed to start calling him by his real name, and Larz needed to arrange a visit back home to Tygeria to let his family know he was still alive. He had an important decision to make about staying on Tygeria or returning to Laltana. Part of that depended on Janos, of course, because Janos would be wherever he was, and he might be unwilling to abdicate and leave his brother on the throne of Herkos. After his experiences on Tygeria, he might not want to live there, and Larz had to consider that.

  Staying on Laltana wouldn’t be a bad idea—with help from the Tygerian physicians, he could even make sure Janos had an heir and they could be happy there, with Larz taking over Laltana’s army. It was something to think about, but they had plenty of time for all that. Or so he thought, right up until the moment he and Taran sat down at the large mess table beside his friend Luc to eat first meal that morning.

  Before Larz could take his first bite, a loud siren sounded throughout the palace. It was so loud and piercing Taran put his hands over his ears and Larz felt like doing the same.

  “What is that?” he shouted to Luc, who motioned up to the sky.

  “That signals an unidentified spacecraft in Herkon airspace. One or more must be in orbit around the planet!” he shouted back. “You better send the kid upstairs so we can get to our battle stations!”

  “Battle stations?” Larz rolled his eyes. “What are you talking about? We have bows, arrows and swords. How can we use those against spacecraft, for the gods’ sake! We’ll have to see what they want and try to negotiate with them.”

  He sent Taran upstairs to find Janos and then joined the throng of men rushing outside to the courtyard, where they pointed up at the sky and shouted at each other excitedly. At least twenty sleek hovercraft came into view, each one getting larger as they approached in formation and began to hover directly over the city, moving into a circle to surround the city walls. The largest one broke formation and swooped in for a landing in the middle of the courtyard, sending men scattering in every direction.

  Most of the Herkon people had witnessed spacecraft before, of course, but never like this, and never one landing in the middle of the square outside the palace. The engines shut off their high-pitched whine and a silence fell over the men assembled there as the hatch doors swung open and a ramp came out with a clang as it hit the cobbled stone of the courtyard. Five Tygerian soldiers in full battle gear came out and ran down the gangplank, brandishing disruptors and yelling at everyone to get back. No one understood them, of course, except for Larz, but they understood the tone well enough and fell back even farther, a few people in the crowd beginning to panic.

  Then Mikos came down the ramp, looking huge and savage and Larz finally understood what they meant when they called him the Bloody Prince. H
e looked dangerous and downright lethal, his handsome lips twisted in a snarl as he surveyed his surroundings. His mate Ryan was right behind him, also armed to the teeth, and wearing the black Tygerian uniform. However, it was Mikos who commanded Larz’s attention. He was absolutely terrifying, and Larz had never seen anything so magnificent before in his entire life. Both of them were beautiful, in fact, and his chest swelled with emotion. Mikos stopped at the edge of the ramp, keeping a hand on Ryan behind him as he surveyed the crowd. In perfect Herkon, he called out in a booming voice.

  “Send out your king!”

  But before anyone could move, Larz finally managed to push his way to the front of the crowd. He ran out into the open and called out to them.

  “Mikos! Ryan! I’m here!”

  Mikos whipped his head toward him and shouted something, his face suddenly alight with fierce joy. He and Ryan both rushed toward him and Larz met them in the middle of the courtyard, throwing his arms around them both while Mikos picked him up and hugged him to within an inch of his life. Laughing, he managed to pull away from Mikos and grabbed Ryan, sweeping him off his feet and whirling him around.

  “You came for me! I knew you would!” he shouted and Mikos pulled him back for another embrace as Ryan stood protectively beside them both gazing out at the avid and astonished looking crowd of onlookers. Mikos began to pull Larz away toward the open hatch when a loud cry came from the crowd and a small whirlwind launched itself at Mikos.

  “No! You can’t take him! Leave him alone!” Taran cried and would have attacked an astonished Mikos had Larz not stepped in and pulled the boy away.

  “What’s this?” Mikos growled as Larz held Taran under his arm.

  “This is Taran, and he just got scared when he saw you hauling me away.”

  “Father’s orders. He and Omak are waiting for you back on the ship. I’m under strict orders to get you safely away and take you up to them until all this can be sorted out.”