by 1
He didn’t have to tell her he disliked her. She could feel it every time he looked down at her with his grim face and dark frown.
She squirmed on her back, longing to get up and walk. Alex wasn’t used to non-activity and she asked the old healer when she could find some reprieve.
“Now, my child,” Hesta said kindly. “We will stop soon and make camp. There is a small village nearby. The prince will wish to stay the night and visit the tavern.”
Had she misheard the old woman? Alex grew cold. “The prince? Who…what…” It couldn’t be, she thought with dread.
Hesta gave her a knowing look. “Aye, he is the prince, child. I knew you did not know of it since the first day. I still do not know why he has not made his presence known to you,” she added under her breath.
Alex’s insides were in turmoil. The prince!
And he disliked her! She closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Damn it! How was he going to react when he learned she was going to fight in the Royal Contest for his hand in marriage?
Worse, Alex didn’t even like him. He was cold and dangerous looking and far too ruthless a man for her tastes, not that she had a particular taste in men or experience with them since the only thing she ever had time for in her life had been looking after Ariel and her training sessions with Hiroshi. Her heart filled with warmth and sadness as it always did when she thought of her dear mentor. He’d helped her with so many things and not just the art of combat. He taught her to face challenges head on and to be brave.
Well, this was one big challenge. She’d envisioned the prince to be charming and courteous, not the bohemian she’d encountered. Her prince was caring and kind and compassionate, not the big oaf whose only redeeming quality was his muscle and brawn.
“Rumours are we will not make it back to the royal grounds in time for the contest,” the old healer said, breaking into Alex’s train of thought.
Alex frowned. “Why?”
The old woman gave her a knowing look. “There are wenches in the next village, child, and the prince cannot resist the tempting flash of breast or thigh.”
“Oh.” Alex frowned. Somehow, that didn’t sit too well with her.
It seemed the prince was not only a barbarian, but a womanizer as well. Her plan for The Royal Contest started disintegrating before her eyes.
“He has many women, has he?” she asked carefully.
“Oh, yes and methinks that will not change after he is wed.”
Alex pursed her lips and remained silent as she recalled her own mother’s heartache with an unfaithful man. Alex’s father had been a weak, selfish man and she had vowed at a very young age that she would never allow a man to hurt her as her father hurt her mother.
It seemed, however, the fates had wickedly intervened and Alex now found herself facing the same life as her mother. However, this was all for Ariel a little voice rang in her ears. Her sweet, beloved, little sister who needed her.
Alex’s love for Ariel gave her strength. She’d win the contest! For the coin. For security and comfort. All for Ariel.
“Ah, we’ve stopped, at last,” Hesta said.
Alex’s spirits lifted. Finally, she could get up and stretch. “Please bring Ariel to me.”
The old woman nodded. “I will be back in a few minutes, but don’t move until I return. Your discomfort will lessen if I help you rise.” She paused before she climbed over the wagon to the wooden steps attached on the lower side. The old woman gave Alex a knowing look. “T’is even more interesting you didn’t ask me any questions about the contest I mentioned.”
Alex couldn’t hold the healer’s shrewd gaze. “I…I received a royal parchment from one of the king’s messengers a fortnight ago.”
The old woman nodded slowly. “I see. Methinks you would make a fine competitor.” Then she left.
Alex sighed and laid her head back down, closing her eyes. The healer was far too astute for her own good, she thought.
Alex envisioned her life with the prince bedding wenches and she sighed wearily. She would have to get accustomed to it. The difference between Alex and her mother was her mother loved her father despite his selfish, cold ways and Alex, well, Alex didn’t even like the warrior prince. The last thing she was in danger of was succumbing to passion and bedding him, let alone falling in love with him. She almost laughed cynically. Love. An overrated concept. She saw what love did to her mother and Alex wanted no part of it.
The parchment clearly stated the winner of the Royal Contest would wed the prince and be titled princess. It didn’t state anywhere she had to sire him a child, hence, Alex was under no obligation to allow him to bed her and she wouldn’t.
Besides, she didn’t think the prince would have the desire to do so if his uncompromising attitude with her the past few days was any indication. Feeling better, she settled her warring mind and waited for Hesta to return with Ariel.
She would win the contest, her athletic prowess and combat skills leaving her no doubt she would be crowned princess and she would allow him his freedom to do as he pleased. The prize in her mind was not the title of princess or the companionship of the prince, but the wealth she would acquire to heal her sister of her breathing condition. Ariel was the only person in her life she loved and the thought of losing her filled her with dread.
Her beloved mother’s dying words to Alex after the midwife had taken Ariel out of her womb had been, “Guard and protect your sister, Alex. Look after her, always and with your life.” The midwife had cleaned the newborn and had carried the baby to Alex as her mother lay dying. Once Alex looked down at Ariel’s scrunched up tiny, pink face, she’d felt a powerful, astonishing tug of love and protection for the infant.
She heard a sound and turned her head, her spirit lifting at the prospect of seeing Ariel. Her smile froze when she saw the prince vault over the wagon’s side. She stared at his impressive physique and a sudden image filled her mind. An image of their naked limbs entwined in passionate heat. Her face burned with embarrassment. She stomped on the image before it took an alarming note.
He towered over her, staring down at her with his brooding, mesmerizing gaze. With the newfound knowledge that he would one day be king, she took a closer look at him and wondered why she hadn’t detected his regal stature, his imperial pose before. Their gazes clashed, warred. Hers guarded, his almost violent.
“We are stopping here for the night. You and your daughter will sleep in the healer’s tent.” He flicked a dark glance at the fading bruise on her jaw. There was a strange flicker in his eyes, like a softening of sorts.
She must have misread his expression because she couldn’t imagine anything soft about him.
“I see your health has much improved. Good.”
Alex nodded. “But I need to walk and stretch.”
“One of my men can take you around the camp when you are ready.”
“I’m ready now and I prefer to walk with Ariel, alone. She’s not used to being around strangers and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”
His dark brow rose. “Your daughter seems to be taking very well to strangers. First, my chief guard and now my cook. Everyone is quite taken with her.”
“Ariel is a sweet child.” Alex paused, her gaze wavering under his. “And…and she’s not my daughter. She’s my sister, Your Highness.” She saw him stiffen.
His eyes bore down on her and a curious muscle twitched along his jaw. “I wondered when you would find out.”
She raised a brow. “Was it a secret?”
“No.” His mouth tensed. “Was it a secret Ariel is your sister and not your daughter?”
“No.” Alex tensed, hoping he would leave. “Thank you for informing me about our stop. You may go now.”
“By the gods, are you dismissing me?”
She wanted to say yes, but his formidable stance and ruthless air gave her pause. His gaze flickered over the outline of her body covered in tarp and settled on her full, pink lips.
“Why w
ere you out in bandit area with your sister?” he asked abruptly once he brought his gaze back to hers.
Alex braced herself. This was where she should tell him about The Royal Contest, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Surely, he would make an unflattering remark or cast a distasteful look upon her if she did. In addition, after what she’d been through the past fortnight, she didn’t have the energy to cross that bridge yet.
“That, Your Highness, is none of your concern.”
“I beg to differ,” he practically growled. “If you are running from anyone, it is my concern. I have the safety of my men to consider. I ask you again, woman, why were you in bandit area?”
Alex bristled under his harsh glare. The charged air between them was palpable and she couldn’t wait to be left alone. “No one is after me. Do not fear for your men’s safety.”
“You did not answer my question.”
Alex had had enough and her shackles rose. “I answered your question. We did not run from anyone. We are merely on an excursion. An expedition, so to speak.”
“To what? To get yourself killed? This is highly dangerous soil you have entered. You put your sister at risk.”
Alex raised a delicate brow. “If I recall correctly, I was doing fine on my own before Ariel came up from behind the boulder and distracted me. I was in no danger from the four bandits who fell upon my camp and I was certainly in no danger from your men.”
“Are you always so obtuse? Those bandits come in packs. The four were a diversion. There are more out here.” He paused, his face darkening. “And what of the Lycans roaming the mountains? Preying on innocents like you? Are you not afraid of them?”
“Mythical beasts?” She shrugged. “When I see one, I’ll believe they exist. Right now they are only myth and I have no time to fear something that is only hearsay.”
He gave her a look she could only define as dumbfounded. “These mythical beasts, as you call them, attack when the moon is full and destroy entire villages. They are only hearsay because the villagers they turn become one of them. No one has ever escaped their lair.”
“Then surely you must be glad to have me here for your added protection. Speaking of which, where are my weapons?” she asked.
He tensed. “Safe.”
“I want them.”
“When you’ve healed and we have parted. You are too dangerous with sharp objects. Speaking of which, you fight with silver. I checked all your weapons. Dagger, sword, arrows, all are made with silver.”
“They are for mine and Ariel’s protection.”
“From these mythical beasts you don’t believe in?” he asked sardonically.
“I will protect my sister from all, real or otherwise.”
He stared at her for what seemed an eternity before he spoke. “And now you have me to protect you,” he said slowly. Immediately, he stiffened as a dark frown fell over his face, as though he was momentarily disturbed by something.
Alex had never heard anyone tell her they would protect her. Most of her adult life, she had been the protector. An uncharacteristic flutter settled over her stomach, his words oddly comforting.
She thanked the skies above because at that moment, she heard a small bustle behind the prince and turned her gaze toward the sound. It was the healer returning with Ariel. Alex’s mood shifted immediately and she smiled at her little sister’s face peaking up from the side of the wagon. The lavender shadows under Ariel’s eyes were darker today and Alex pursed her lips as guilt raced through her veins. She had been the cause of Ariel’s fatigue the past fortnight, embarking on such a perilous journey.
Alex saw the prince move and lift Ariel over the side. He looked massive compared to her tiny sister, but Alex could see his touch was gentle as he carried her to her side.
“Alex! We are going to sleep in a big tent,” Ariel said excitedly.
Alex laughed softly. “I know, baby and while the tents are being set up, you and I are going for a little walk.”
Ariel giggled with glee. “Can we play, too?”
Alex sat up and pulled her tiny sister into a warm hug. She grimaced in pain. She saw Vasilis move sharply, his face concerned and she shook her head slightly at him, her mouth pursed. She placed a tender kiss on her sister’s cheek. “Of course. Anything you want.”
“I will have Ortega and Roarke walk with you,” Vasilis offered in a gruff voice.
Alex looked up at him. He was right, of course. If giving her sister a hug made her wince in pain, how could she find the strength to defend her? She nodded and he looked pleased.
With a curt bow, he turned away and disappeared over the wagon’s edge.
Ariel stared at Vasilis’s huge, retreating form. “The big man is scary, Alex,” she said in a small voice.
Alex hugged her close. “That man, honey, is the prince.”
Ariel gasped. “He’s the man you’re going to—”
“Hush.” Alex gave her a warning look. “Come, let’s go for our walk.”
She cast the healer a look and noted the old woman’s toothy grin.
“Aye, little Ariel,” the old healer began, “that is the man your sister is going to marry.”
Alex tensed. “Please don’t tell—”
The healer raised a gnarled hand. “Don’t fret, my child. You will tell him when you are ready and I wish to witness his reaction.” She cackled like an old hen as she helped Alex up. “Methinks he has finally met his match.”
* * * *
After the tents were pitched, Vasilis and his men left the camp to go to the small village, leaving four guards behind with Alexandra and Ariel.
The few minutes’ walk gave Vasilis a chance to gather his warring thoughts. He wasn’t any closer to answering the two questions that plagued him since meeting Alex. What was she doing in bandit territory and how did she learn the art of combat?
He’d never met anyone like her. She was a mass of contradictions. Hard and unmoving, yet soft and tender. Her love for her sister was evident, he thought, recalling how she winced in pain when she had gathered the little one in her arms. When she had cast him a look that clearly said she didn’t want him to interfere, he had wondered how deep and for how long she had assumed this protector and defender role.
Malek was right. She did display many of the traits he required in a mate. All except the annoyance she had been showing him more and more the past few days.
He reached the tavern and clenched his jaw, pushing her out of his mind. Alex had done nothing but vex and perplex him since the first moment he laid eyes on her. He was in urgent need of ale and wenches to drown and alleviate the mental and physical discomfort he felt since meeting her. The past four days with her had not only opened his physical appetite, they made him quick tempered and frustrated. Another wench was just what he needed to get that Amazon out of his mind.
Ortega swung open the doors and Vasilis and sixteen of his men walked in. The air inside the tavern was thick with ale and smoke. There was drunken conversations, laughter and raucous behaviour.
Vasilis cast a shrewd gaze around the room. A wench, filling a glass of ale for a patron, giggled as another man walked behind her and swatted her on her behind. A group of men were gaming with cards in the corner and one angry player spewed out curses and tossed his ale in another man’s face. A serving wench was sitting on a drunkard’s lap and she licked her lips as the drunkard slipped a grubby hand over her exposed breast. The room smelled of ale and sex.
Yes, it was a seamy place, perfect for drowning his frustrations. He stiffened as Alex’s beautiful face infiltrated his mind and annoyance flared in his veins.
One by one, everyone in the room noticed Vasilis and his entourage and stopped what they were doing. The room stilled, the only thing unchanged, the smoke drifting around them.
“Go on about your business. We are only here for some ale,” Malek barked out.
Vasilis caught sight of a couple of serving wenches nearly stumbling over themselves to go
to him. At last, everything was back to normal, he thought with arrogance. Just because Alexandra would not show him the time of day, did not mean he had lost his touch with other members of the fair sex.
“Is there anything I can get you?” purred the busty blonde who reached him first.
Vasilis’s eyes narrowed as his gaze dipped to her burgeoning chest, all cleavage and skin. Alex’s beauty swam before his face, her strength and love and honour and he frowned. He didn’t even feel a stir in his loins as he stared at the serving wench’s breasts. Damnation! Even the mere thought of Alex was affecting him.
“Nay,” he found himself answering. “I will call upon you if I do.” The wench then scurried away with a crestfallen expression on her face.
“Perhaps I can persuade you for some ale, or something else,” the other wench said, her gaze devouring his towering strength and powerful physique.
Vasilis knew what her something else meant, but once again, he was curiously cold inside. No stirrings, no desire, no lust. “Nay. I will call upon you, too,” he practically growled, brushing past her.
He sat at a long table with his guards as ale was brought to them. He wasn’t blind to the blatant glances tossed his way from the wenches, but he felt curiously unreceptive to their lustful gazes.
He marked it up to being too tired. He had had a long journey and his father’s contest still grated on his nerves.
He was a warrior above everything else and he couldn’t see himself play the role of loving husband and adoring father. His battle scars ran deep and he knew his heart was no longer the warm, soft organ that filled with unconditional love. Too much had happened to him.
His gut clenched as he tried burying his old demons trying to resurface. His mother was a gentle woman and Vasilis hadn’t been able to save her. The guilt haunted him still. That was why he needed a wife who could defend herself, a warrior woman. His mother hadn’t been that kind of woman. She was weak and afraid. When she was bitten on the raid two hundred years ago and turned into a Lycan, she couldn’t live with the monster she’d become. A few weeks later, she drove a silver dagger to her heart.
