LycanPrince

by 1

  “I am assuming that bruise on your cheek is the mark of one of the bandits who attacked you,” said a deep, male voice.

  She gasped in surprise and slid her gaze to the man sitting in the far corner of the wagon. Alex stiffened. He was the man she had threatened with murder just before she…just before she…oh my God, she had fainted! Alex had never so much as felt dizzy in her life and in a startling flash, all the events that led her here swam before her eyes. Her last, horrible encounter with her stepmother, the royal parchment, the bandits she’d fought and the small fleet of warriors who—she went cold with dread and fear. Ariel!

  Panicked, Alex tried to move again and grimaced in pain. “Where is Ariel?”

  “Your daughter is safe. She has taken a liking to Malek and is up ahead on horseback with him.”

  A relief so profound overcame her, she slumped back down on her makeshift bed and closed her eyes. “Bring her here,” she said hoarsely. “I want her with me.”

  “You need to rest. Ariel is safe with Malek. He is entertaining her with stories and games as we speak.”

  “I’m not speaking. I’m in pain.” She moaned, giving the warrior a dry look. She caught the glimmer of a smile on his mouth and took a better look at him.

  He was sitting, leaning back against the wooden enclosure, staring at her with a dark, fathomless gaze. The first thing she noticed about him was his size. Even sitting down, he looked huge. He was a mass of hulk, his long, muscular legs stretched out before him, his immense shoulders straining against his warrior garb. Alex tore her gaze away from his bulging biceps and stared at his handsome face. His intense gaze brought an involuntary jolt in her stomach.

  “How were you able to defeat four bandits?” he asked.

  The question didn’t take her by surprise. She stared at his face. It was a beautiful face, fierce looking and ruthless, with coal black eyes and thick, black hair that fell past his shoulders. Alex almost forgot his question as she dropped her gaze and stared at his mouth. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. “Where are my horses?”

  “Behind us. They’re tethered to the wagon following us. How did you defeat four bandits?” he repeated.

  Alex sighed and opened her eyes. She gave him pointed look. “Would you be asking me that question if I were a man?”

  His mouth quirked. “Probably not.”

  “Then pretend I’m a man and I don’t have to answer any questions for you.” How she learned the art of combat and the use of weapons was a story too long to tell and she didn’t have the desire nor the inclination to go over the long affair.

  The warrior’s face darkened. “Very well,” he said and rose.

  Alex stifled a sharp breath. The man was a giant, she thought as she looked up at him. “Bring me my—bring me Ariel,” she stated, her voice growing fainter. She started to feel weak. “Thank Malek for looking after her, but I want her near me.”

  The warrior nodded and swung his big body over the side of the wagon. She could hear him land on the ground—no doubt on his feet—and closed her eyes again.

  The only two things on her mind right now were getting some rest and holding Ariel. Everything had its place and time and she’d wonder about this warrior and how she was going to reach King Drago’s land after she recovered.

  Alex was almost asleep when Ariel’s little body snuggled against her side. With her eyes still closed, Alex brought her arm around her little sister, sighed contentedly and fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Vasilis watched the woman sleep with her daughter at her side and a curious warmth filled his gut. All he’d learned from Malek who had tried to gain some information from the little girl was that her mother’s name was Alexandra.

  Vasilis smiled, recalling how the little girl had mutinously stared up at Malek as he had tried to glean more information from her, but the little one had not budged. Only when Malek had changed tactics and began to play games with her had she cracked a smile.

  Alexandra moaned softly in her sleep, Ariel fast asleep at her side and Vasilis knotted his brow into a frown. There was something haunting about this woman, something heavy that hung in the air around her.

  The obvious about her intrigued him, as in how she had learned to fight and use an arrow most men would dream of being able to use. There was her beauty as well, he reflected, skimming his gaze over her captivating curves.

  But it was more than that. This woman was a fighter. Vasilis always felt it in his bones when he was facing an equal, another warrior.

  His question was how could a woman be so maternal, realising she loved her daughter very much, kill four men with only a bruised cheek to show for it? The only scratches and cuts on her were the ones inflicted by his own men, he thought grimly.

  Well, he had ample time to find out who she was because she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. A dark notion entered his head. What if she was a spy? What if his evil brethren sent her? A genius weapon at that, since he was all too aware of his reputation for beautiful wenches.

  Grim-faced, he vaulted over the side of the wagon. His horse trotted alongside it and Vasilis landed squarely on its saddle. He grabbed the reins and moved ahead to Malek.

  “She told me nothing,” he said once he reached his friend.

  “I, too, nothing from her daughter.”

  “Do you think they sent her?”

  “I doubt it. Why would she travel with her child?” Malek’s face darkened. “But I wouldn’t put it past those monsters to devise a plan as diabolical as this.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought.” Vasilis tensed his mouth. “Well, like it or not, we have two visitors and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “We could always toss them over the side and leave them to fend for themselves,” Malek offered dryly.

  Vasilis raised a brow. “Admit it, my friend. You are as intrigued and mystified by her as I am.”

  “Your Highness, I am impressed by her use of the bow and arrow. Even with their Lycan strength and speed, she could still teach your men a few things. “

  Vasilis narrowed his eyes. “Yes, she can,” he murmured deeply.

  “Perhaps, she can also show you that not all women are weak,” Malek offered all too casually.

  Vasilis shot him a look. “Easy, my friend. The woman knows how to defend herself, nothing more nothing less.”

  “She is quite beautiful, too,” Malek added innocently.

  Vasilis wasn’t buying any of it. “Yes. A blind man can see that and a deaf man can hear what you’re suggesting.”

  Malek shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

  Vasilis thought about the woman sleeping thirty strides behind him. Yes, he conceded. She did possess qualities he told Malek would make her his ideal woman, but Malek was forgetting one thing.

  Alexandra had a daughter and that meant she had a husband somewhere and husbands were an attribute Vasilis did not find appealing in any woman.

  * * * *

  Alex opened her eyes and stared up at an old woman applying a cool solvent on her cheek. Her body was stiff all over and she wished she remained in the oblivion of sleep. She tried to move, but the pain in her leg made her groan.

  “Be still,” the old woman hovering over her said. “We have to remove your garments so I can see if you have any other bruises.”

  “We will do nothing of the kind. Who are you?”

  “I am Hesta, the healer. I have been ordered to take care of you.”

  Alex didn’t doubt by whom. She recalled the warrior with the dark frown who was in her wagon when a thought struck her. “Where’s Ariel? Where’s my—”

  “Your daughter is safe, Milady. She is having lunch with Malek.”

  Alex relaxed. Malek was the man the ruthless looking warrior had told her looked after her sister. She wondered how long she’d slept, if she could call it sleep. She had been plagued with nightmares, pain and discomfort the whole time. The pain and discomfort she could live with. Lord knew she had plenty
of practice living with her stepmother. Alex scowled, her lips tensing into a thin line. Her hand automatically went for her dagger, but it wasn’t on her waistband where she usually kept it tucked safely from sight.

  “Aye, Milady. Gone. All your weapons are. The master said it was best to keep all sharp objects away from you,” the old woman offered, cackling. “T’was such a sight. I have never seen so many warriors turn white at the same time.” She cast Alex a shrewd gaze. “What a sight you beheld, standing up to a fleet of the best warriors of the land. Only a witch could have that power. Are you a witch, Milady?”

  Alex would have laughed if the pain in her jaw allowed her. “If I were a witch, I wouldn’t be lying down, unable to move, would I?”

  The healer nodded. “Aye. As I believed. Now let me help you up so I can remove your shirt and undergarments. “

  Alex recoiled. “No. I have no wish being naked in front of a caravan full of warriors.”

  “Stubborn as well as a good marksman,” came the dry, deep voice behind the healer.

  Alex’s stomach jolted at the deep, sulphuric tone. It was him—the giant with the smouldering, dark gaze and the sensual mouth. She lifted her head slightly and peered over Hesta’s shoulder. He was in the far right of the wagon, leaning against a pile of crates, his arms folded across his massive chest. He looked every bit as big and alarming as she remembered.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves.

  “Back to my home.”

  Irritation lined her brow. “And where is your home, sir?”

  “On the other side of the mountains, past bandit territory.” He cast a thorough look up and down her slim form, lying amidst tarp and covers. “You are with us for the duration.”

  Alex thought about the Royal Contest and made some quick calculations in her head. “Tend to my horses. Make sure they’re ready for me by nightfall.” King Drago’s kingdom was also on the other side of the mountains and she knew she would make better time if she journeyed with Ariel alone.

  He raised a dark brow. “Going anywhere?”

  “Yes and I haven’t a moment to spare.”

  “You cannot go anywhere until you are healed. A half day’s ride will leave you flat on your back.”

  “I will take my chances.”

  “Headstrong, too,” he commented dryly. The healer cackled with mirth and he tossed her a warning look before he redirected his gaze back to Alex. “Why put your daughter at risk? This is bandit territory and you’re in no position physically to protect her.”

  Irritated with his logic, she pursed her lips. There was something about this man that rankled her nerves. He was arrogant and proud and had a lofty air about him that told her he was not used to being challenged by anyone.

  The giant looked at the healer. “Take her clothes off by force if you have to. Check for more wounds. I will return shortly.” He then vaulted over the side of the moving wagon, landing firmly on his horse trotting alongside.

  Alex glared at the old woman. The healer wasn’t frail, but rather robust and strong looking. Alex doubted she could ward off her attempts to disrobe her. “Touch me and I’ll kill you,” she said.

  The healer cackled, but this time her grey eyes held a hint of warmth. “You have more fire in your bones than twenty of his men, Milady. I can see why he has taken such an interest in you. Do not fear me, child. I want to help you. I will take these tarps and cover the wagon’s side so no one will see you.”

  The solvent on her jaw had already numbed most of the pain and Alex wondered if she had any more injuries on her body. God only knew she must have because she felt pain everywhere. Logic prevailed. Besides, the sooner she healed, the sooner she and Ariel could be on their way.

  “All right,” she conceded.

  After taking a few minutes to cover the sides of the wagon, Hesta turned to Alex. “Let me help you remove your shirt.”

  Alex was grateful with the help because she couldn’t lift her arms past her shoulders. Within moments, all her top garments were removed. The old woman poked and prodded Alex’s naked stomach, breasts and shoulders and kept asking her if she felt any pain. Alex said she did not and the old healer helped her turn over onto her stomach.

  That was when she heard Hesta’s sharp gasp.

  “Heavens above! What are these marks?” the old woman asked.

  Alex closed her eyes. “They are marks from the past. Ignore them.”

  “Child, they cannot be ignored. They are welts upon welts.”

  “I said, ignore them,” Alex snapped. She didn’t fancy a trip down memory lane.

  “Ah, the caravan has stopped. I need to get my other ointment, child,” the healer said. “It might help soften and fade the scars.” As the old woman climbed over the side panel, Alex heard her grumbling, “Heaven help me, but I do not think I can do anything for them.”

  Alex closed her eyes, the afternoon warmth of the sun on her back a soothing welcome. The past was creeping into her thoughts and she pushed them away as she willed herself to relax, but it was easier said than done. She squeezed her eyes, thinking about the beatings she had to endure to save Ariel from the whip. She would have taken a hundred more beatings if it meant her little sister wouldn’t be harmed, but it didn’t matter anymore. Her stepmother was dead.

  A deep voice from behind her broke into her dark thoughts.

  “Holy Mother of God!”

  Alex gasped in surprise. “Go away!” She knew who was standing above her and she quickly gathered the covers from beneath her and flung them over her sides to hide her back. Grimacing in pain, she turned over on her back and looked up into the giant’s dark and dangerous expression.

  “Who marked you?” he ground out.

  Alex stiffened. The last thing she needed was pity. “Someone who will never hurt me again.”

  “Who tortured you?” he asked, his face growing darker, more dangerous, as his gaze flicked to the ample cleavage her breasts displayed from the edge of the cover.

  A low, deep growl rose from his throat and for a split second Alex was afraid. She raised the edge of the cover to hide her breasts. “No one.”

  “Tell me. Now!”

  Alex sensed something wild and primitive ready to snap in him and she raised the covers even more. “I said no one. It’s…it’s not important anymore.”

  “I see.” He ran a rough hand through his thick, dark mane as Hesta arrived carrying a bag.

  The old woman shot him a pointed look. “Milady needs her privacy, Your—”

  “Tend to her,” he growled and vaulted over the side of the wagon.

  Chapter Three

  Vasilis frowned grimly as he thought about the bewitching woman with the scars on her back. He pictured the old healer rubbing ointment on Alexandra’s silken skin and his loins tightened violently. He grimaced with disgust. He didn’t know if he wanted to ravage her or to protect her.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t get the sexy siren with the sharp tongue out of his mind. Damn it. Who harmed her with such violence?

  Did her husband commit those sins on her back, a husband who may be in hot pursuit of her right now? Vasilis clenched his jaw and swore roughly under his breath. If he saw that bastard, he would rip his limbs from his body.

  “What has you looking so murderous, Your Highness?” Malek asked.

  Vasilis tensed with irritation. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Your Highness?”

  Malek’s brows rose. “More pressing is what has darkened your mood to such depths of fury? What happened with the woman just now?”

  “You’re asking me too many questions.” Vasilis looked around. “Where is her daughter? Shouldn’t she be riding with you?”

  “She is in Paddy’s wagon. He is teaching her to cut and prepare the beans for tonight’s meal. I believe I actually heard a small chuckle from that old coot. “

  Vasilis nodded, thinking about their cantankerous, fouled mood cook. Vas
ilis wasn’t surprised the little girl was worming her way into the hearts of all she met, much like her mother who had been occupying most of Vasilis’s thoughts since the moment he met her. And his men, he conceded wryly, catching them cast surreptitious glances at her wagon as they rode by.

  Like mother like daughter.

  One, a beguiling, sweet child who thawed frozen hearts and the other, is a siren-songed warrior woman who made men still in their tracks. His mouth curled in disgust. They weren’t men. They were beasts disguised as men.

  “Someone beat her,” he said harshly. “She has scars on her back. It could be her husband. Keep a look out. He may be on her trail.”

  Malek stiffened immediately. “Aye. I’ll tell my men.” And off he went.

  Vasilis nudged his horse along, his dark gaze intent on the road before him, but all he could see was the woman lying a few paces behind him, her firm, naked body lying beneath covers.

  She hadn’t even batted an eye when she first set eyes on him. He wondered if that had anything to do with his interest in her. Vasilis wasn’t accustomed to being ignored by the fair sex and he couldn’t help wondering what it was about her that made her immune to him.

  He wasn’t even sure she knew he was the prince.

  Something told him once she found out, she would drop her defences and be just like all the other women he had met and bedded in his travels.

  The thought didn’t sit well with him and he kicked his horse into a small gallop, the four warriors flanking him, spurring their horses to a lively gait to keep up with him.

  * * * *

  It had taken all of three days before Alex could move without suffering from pain. She still felt discomfort, but the old woman with the magic solvent was a miracle worker and Alex’s wounds were healing fast.

  Three days she’d been on her back in the wagon. Three days of seeing the giant periodically, his dark, fathomless gaze boring into hers as he clipped out brief questions inquiring about her health. Alex had wondered why he kept returning, especially given the fact they clearly felt an underlining antagonism between them.