Dark Prince's Dilemma

by I. T. Lucas

  When she scored him with her fingernails, he grabbed her hands, pulled them over her head, and kept the slow plunge and retreat.

  “You’re evil,” she hissed.

  He chuckled. “But you love me anyway.”

  Her eyes popped open, their blue glow intense as she regarded him in stunned silence.

  He didn’t expect her to confirm. She wasn’t ready to admit it yet. But he knew it to be true.

  29

  Carol

  Did she love him?

  Right now Carol wasn’t sure.

  Lokan was arrogant, infuriating, and the sexiest man she’d ever been with. She felt like biting and scratching him until he fucked her like she wanted to be fucked, and that wasn’t love.

  It was carnal lust.

  And yet, it was true. Maybe. She still wasn't sure.

  But she'd be damned if she said those words before he did. Until he got over his suspicions and surrendered to the bond, she was going to treat him as a lover and not as the one she loved.

  She bucked up hard, nearly toppling him over. “I’m not one of your human playthings, Lokan. Give me what I need.”

  “Shh.” He let go of her hands. “Don’t fight me, little tigress. I know what you need.”

  Infuriating male.

  She could play along.

  Forcing herself to relax, Carol went still, feigning detachment. “Do you need to be in charge, lover boy? Is that how you like it?”

  His smile was evil as he grabbed her hair and tilted her head back. “Yes, I do like to be in charge, and you like it as well.” He scraped his fangs over the column of her neck, for sure drawing blood this time.

  Carol hissed, but it was because of her inner burn and not the one blooming on her neck. He licked the twin scrapes, cooling her skin but not the inferno blazing in her core.

  Pulling almost all the way back, he plunged forcefully inside, hitting the end of her channel and holding there. “Is that what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  His fingers tightened in her hair, causing pinpricks of pain. “Like this?”

  “Yes.”

  As he retreated and plunged again, she lifted her hips to meet him. Again and again, her core tightening as her orgasm neared.

  “You are mine, Carol.”

  “Yes.” It was true and easier to admit that than to fess up to loving him.

  “I’m your man. The only one who is going to fuck you for the rest of your immortal life.” He surged inside her.

  His possessiveness excited her. She wanted that, which was still quite a shocker. Carol had never thought she would be satisfied with just one man, but then Lokan wasn’t like any of the men she’d been with.

  He was a powerhouse, perfectly capable of satisfying her in every way.

  Even though he was bossy, and arrogant, and believed that he knew what she needed better than she did, Carol knew that she would never tire of him.

  Well, maybe he did know better.

  He was incredibly skilled and just as attentive, paying attention to what drove her crazy and filing it away for later use. Not to mention so handsome that just looking at him scrambled her brain.

  Riding her hard, his groans soon turned into growls, and combined with the red glowing eyes and fangs, he looked more like a demonic creature than a man.

  An angel and a demon, a match made in heaven, or in the twisted minds of three bored Fates.

  As Lokan threw his head back and hissed, a climax rippled over Carol, and as he struck, hitting her neck and sinking his fangs into the soft flesh of her neck, she climaxed again.

  Riding the euphoria cloud, she remained tethered to reality by clutching Lokan’s broad shoulders and listening to the rapid beat of his powerful heart.

  Drenched in sweat, he was still panting as he snaked his arms under her and flipped them over, holding her tight as if afraid that she might float away.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered into his chest.

  “I know.”

  “You can let go.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  She felt his shaft stir under her and chuckled. “Already? I need a moment to catch my breath.”

  “Take as long as you want. Just don’t go anywhere.” Using his foot, he flung the comforter over her back.

  It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes.

  She knew Lokan was still hot and sweaty, but he’d thought about her comfort first.

  “Thank you.”

  Listening to the strong beat of his heart, she drifted off wondering if he loved her too.

  30

  Kian

  A paper cup of steaming coffee in hand, Turner walked into Kian’s office and closed the door behind him.

  “Good morning.” Kian got up and walked around to the other side of his desk. He pulled out a chair for Turner and sat in the other. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Several things.” Turner popped his briefcase open and pulled out a large aerial photograph. “Our satellite was finally in position over the island at around three o'clock at night our time.” He handed the black and white to Kian. “It looks like the right one, but you should verify it with Lokan.”

  As Kian looked at the picture of the tropical island, he understood why it hadn’t been detected from the air. The vegetation was dense, and the resort was built in a way that blended with nature. He had to focus to see the thatched roofs of several bungalows. The shapes were round, and from the air they looked like the tree canopies surrounding them. He suspected that there were many more hidden from sight.

  Straining his eyes, Kian searched for visible signs of the airstrip, but it was expertly hidden. According to Dalhu, the island’s transport operated only during the night, and its single runway was camouflaged during the day.

  “Impressive. It was a brilliant move to choose a tropical island for their base. Not only is it isolated, but it also provides excellent natural camouflage. With the sparse vegetation here in Malibu, we had to rely on technology to achieve a similar level of concealment.”

  Turner nodded. “And by building the warriors’ quarters and other facilities underground, they also solved the heat problem. It is much easier to cool subterranean accommodations than those housed in structures built above ground.”

  “It solves the space constraints as well. This island is what? Forty acres? Fifty? Some of Malibu’s private estates are that size.”

  “I contracted an operator to snoop around with a fishing trawler. I want to find out how close he can get and what they will do to turn him away.”

  “Have him try to land a small drone on the island. I want to see if we can land a miniature drone unnoticed. If that’s possible, it will solve the communication problem.”

  Turner nodded “I thought about that. I don't trust Lokan any more than you do, and I don't want us to be dependent on his dream sharing with Carol for communication. Once she is there, he can blackmail us into releasing him in exchange for the information."

  Kian hadn't thought of that. It wasn't a stretch to imagine Lokan choosing his freedom over finding his mother. "Good point. Any ideas on how it can be done?"

  Turner shook his head. “A tiny drone the size of a large bug can go unnoticed, but it doesn’t have the range, and a larger drone will be spotted by their security even if it manages to evade the radar. We need something custom made. I’ll ask my guy to work on it.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a printout. “On a different subject, I want you to take a look at this.”

  “What is it?” Kian took the page. It was a missing persons report filed with the San Francisco Police Department.

  “As of last weekend, three female students went missing. All were undergrad students at UCSF.”

  Kian frowned. “Are you suspecting more Doomer murders?”

  “I don’t think so. One of the girls is the niece of an old buddy of mine from my Special Ops days. When she didn’t return from a weekend off with her new boyfriend, h
er parents panicked, and he called me. I did a little digging, and apparently two more girls went missing under similar circumstances. All three are good students who also happen to be very good-looking. I suspect a trafficking ring specializing in college girls.”

  “Those are not their usual targets.”

  “My thoughts exactly. That’s where things get interesting. I checked their travel itineraries. All three bought plane tickets to places around the Doomer island, using their debit cards. One booked a trip to the Maldives, another to Sri Lanka, and the third to Agatti. Curiously, cash funds matching the costs of the tickets were deposited into their accounts several days prior to the booking.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’m having William and Roni hack into the San Francisco airport security network to find out who they traveled with, and then match the pictures to passports. I’m sure we will find that the identities of the boyfriends are fake. I think Navuh has eliminated the middleman and is collecting girls for the island one by one.”

  “That’s much less efficient, and I’m not sure that it’s less costly.”

  Turner nodded. “That is true. But then traffickers don’t supply college girls. If Navuh wants educated women for his brothel, he has no choice but to do it himself, using his warriors to lure the girls into going with them.”

  “Why would he want educated women?”

  Turner shrugged. “His clients must favor them. Some men like to talk as well as have sex with their paid company, and rich clients can afford to be choosy.”

  Kian handed the printout back to Turner. “Especially nowadays that human contact has been replaced by text messaging and following celebrities on the internet. People are lonely and hungry for companionship.”

  Shoving it into his briefcase, Turner took a sip from his cup and grimaced. “It’s lukewarm. I like your thermos idea.” He put the cup down on the desk. “We should have a talk with Lokan about this. See what he knows.”

  Kian looked at the yellow pad and his to-do list, then shoved it aside. This new development was more important than what was on his agenda for the day.

  “This afternoon work for you?”

  “I have a couple of meetings. Can you make it by five-thirty?”

  Kian glanced at the yellow pad again and sighed. “Yeah. My wife is not going to be happy about it, but so be it. I’ll make it up to her later.”

  31

  Lokan

  Lokan looked at the transformed bedroom and shook his head.

  Carol was a force of nature.

  Once she decided something, she made it happen, charming any guy into doing her bidding. She’d managed to cajole his jailers into moving equipment from the gym into their bedroom, so he could release some of his pent-up energy on an activity other than sex.

  Arwel clapped him on the back. “Do you know why this is good?”

  “It’s going to keep me in shape?”

  “I don’t care about that. What I care about are the waves of nervous energy you are bombarding me with day in and day out. Hopefully, this is going to put you in a better mood.”

  “I doubt it. I’m still a prisoner, and my mate is adamant about leaving me to go on a dangerous mission. The only way I can relax is if someone knocks me out.”

  Smirking, Arwel dipped his head. “I’m at your service. Call me when you need me.” He arched a brow when his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Already you are calling me? You didn’t even try the treadmill yet.” He chuckled at his own joke and pulled out the device. “Yes?”

  “Tell Lokan to expect visitors today at five-thirty,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Kian and Turner want to talk to him.”

  Finally. Lokan had wanted to meet that Turner guy that Carol was hailing as a strategic genius for a while now.

  “I’ll let him know.” Arwel closed the phone.

  “Who was that?”

  “Shai, Kian’s assistant.”

  “What time is it?”

  Arwel glanced at the phone. “Two-twenty. You have plenty of time.” He waved a hand at the treadmill and the punching bag swinging from a hook that they had attached to the ceiling.

  “Thanks, Arwel.”

  The Guardian clapped him on the back. “You’re welcome.”

  As the Guardian opened the door to leave, Carol came in with a vacuum cleaner and a mop.

  “Do you know how to use it?” She handed him the strange-looking vacuum device.

  “I can figure it out.”

  “It’s the latest Dyson handheld. You’re gonna love it. Just pretend it’s a gun, point and shoot.”

  “Got it.”

  He took it to the bedroom where debris from the drilling covered the floor and dust bunnies floated from moving the furniture around. The dresser went into the closet, making room for the treadmill, and the bed was shoved against one wall to make room for the punching bag, which Arwel had assured him was designed for immortals and could take a serious beating.

  “Point and shoot.” He pressed the trigger and the device roared to life, sucking in the dirt. It was a surprisingly satisfying task, and he was disappointed when there was nothing more to clean.

  “Good job.” Carol entered with the mop. “Vacuum the living room as well. The guys dragged dirt over there with their shoes.”

  He was happy to comply but then stopped at the doorway. “By the way, Kian’s assistant called Arwel and asked him to inform me that Kian and Turner are coming to talk to me. Do you know what it is about? Did you arrange this?”

  “I didn’t.” She leaned on the mop. “He didn’t say?”

  “I’m afraid not. Just that they are coming at five-thirty.”

  Carol glanced at her watch. “I’d better hurry up and prepare dinner. Whatever they want to discuss with you will go smoother with food in everyone’s bellies.”

  Leaning the vacuum against the doorjamb, Lokan reached for Carol’s hand and pulled her into his arms. “You are too good to me.” He took her mouth in a crushing kiss.

  She laughed when he let go. “If I knew the Dyson would have such an effect on you, I would’ve let you vacuum days ago.” She glanced at the device. “I have to admit that it is kind of sexy.”

  “Thank you for looking after me. I just want you to know that I appreciate the exercise equipment that you so thoughtfully arranged for me to have, and the effort you put into the meals you prepare for me and for the others, making sure that everyone is in a good mood so they treat me better.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “I like feeding people. It’s my way of showing affection. Besides, if I bring the food, Kian will feel bad about kicking me out again and will have to let me stay.”

  32

  Carol

  By five-thirty, Carol had a buffet-style dinner arranged on the table, with a stack of paper plates, plastic utensils, and napkins ready for however many people Kian might bring with him.

  Brundar and Anandur would be there for sure, and maybe Andrew as well. It depended on what they wanted to talk to Lokan about.

  Perhaps Turner and Kian had come up with a better plan for getting Areana out? One that didn’t involve her?

  The prospect of abandoning her quest was bittersweet. Sweet because she dreaded leaving Lokan for an extended period of time, but at the same time bitter because she’d miss her one opportunity to do something monumental, something that could forever enter her into the clan’s hall of fame, and not as its only courtesan or even the survivor of torture.

  Lokan entered the living room, his hair still damp from the shower, looking like the suave handsome devil he was, and calmer than she’d ever seen him.

  The two hours of intense training he’d put in had been transformative, getting rid of his nervous energy and restoring him to what she imagined was his natural state. Confident, powerful, and exuding vitality.

  Fates, the man made her hot just by being in the same room with her.

  He cast her an appreciative look. “I like seeing you in a dress. You are beautiful an
d so perfectly feminine.” He made the hourglass shape with his hands.

  “Thank you.” Smiling, she smoothed her hands over the sides in a practiced move.

  The dark green dress was form-fitting but not clingy, and it reached below her knees. It was one of the more conservative pieces she owned, accentuating her figure but not making her look slutty. Three-inch black sling-backs and dangling earrings completed the look.

  Carol hadn’t had a chance to play the part of hostess in a long time, and she was looking forward to showing off her skills.

  As the door mechanism engaged, she took in a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and joined Lokan on the couch.

  The brothers entered first, with Anandur immediately bee-lining for the table and checking out the selection. Kian and Turner followed with Andrew closing the procession.

  Just as she’d anticipated. “Good evening, gentlemen.” She pushed to her feet. “I figured none of you had dinner yet, so I prepared a little something to tide you over.” She motioned to the table “Help yourselves.”

  “Carol, you are the best.” Anandur grabbed a plate and started loading it.

  Kian and Turner each sat in an armchair and Andrew joined the brothers at the table.

  “May I prepare plates for you?” she asked. “You can talk over dinner.”

  With a sigh, Kian got back up. “Syssi is waiting for me with dinner, but I don’t want to be rude and refuse after you went to all this trouble.” He motioned for Turner to join him. “Come on, Victor. Humor the lady and grab a plate.”

  On the couch, Lokan stifled a smirk.

  Kian looked at him over his shoulder. “You too.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Once their plates were loaded, Turner sat back on the armchair, took a couple of obligatory bites, and then put his plate on the coffee table.

  “We haven't been properly introduced. I’m Turner.”