LycanPrince

by 1

  A flash of anger for his father coursed through his tense body. What his father had done was plague the winner of the Royal Contest to an early death. Any wife of his was doomed.

  His mind went to the Lycans who hid in the mountains. They were a vile pack who came out every full moon to attack villages and turn people to their dark side.

  Alexandra and her prowess with the bow and arrow and her evident combat skills with the four bandits filled his mind and he realised she possessed the most important qualities he seeked in a mate.

  Brusquely, he pushed the thought away. She disturbed the hell out of him, they seemed to argue all the time and she’d shown him nothing but disdain and annoyance.

  Hardly evidence she was his soul mate.

  Chapter 4

  By the time his royal guards finished their second ale, Vasilis didn’t know what was worse. That thoughts of Alexandra had soured his mood and turned him off to all the blatant advances of the serving wenches or the increasingly irritating conversation around him from his guards—especially the young one, Roarke—on Alexandra’s archery skill.

  Vasilis couldn’t get a break. No peace of mind, his frustration and irritation rising. Every time he got some sort of reprieve and started to appreciate the sultry wenches flashing him suggestive looks, one of his men either mentioned the Amazon with a note of awe and regard in their tone, or something in the smoke-filled room reminded him of her. The dark shade of hair on the serving wench who slipped him her room key, the bruise on one of the card player’s chin or the tiny waist of the blond wench who kept tossing him seductive glances.

  She was everywhere and Vasilis couldn’t take it anymore. She infiltrated his mind with every turn and he was beginning to think he was bewitched.

  “She was remarkable!” Roarke was saying again for the tenth time. Vasilis flashed him an annoyed look. “How could she have felled all those bandits?”

  Malek cast Vasilis a wry look. “Perhaps she is a figment of our imagination and does not exist.”

  Vasilis downed his ale and all but banged his empty glass on the table. His friend’s pointed comment did not go amiss. He knew Malek was referring to that night when Vasilis told him his perfect woman did not exist. “I will take my leave. I have had enough ale for one evening.” He gave his men a dark look. “Stay. I have no wish to stop your entertainment.”

  Ortega rose. “I will escort you back, Your Highness.”

  “I, too,” Krako added. “These parts are not safe.”

  Vasilis wondered dryly if it was the parts that were dangerous or Alexandra. He hardly knew her a week and she already had him turning the other cheek from a certain romp or two in the hay, he thought, tossing one last glance at the wenches looking crestfallen that he was ready to leave.

  It was of no matter, he decided. He wasn’t in the mood for any of them. The Royal Contest still plagued his mind and he doubted the frustration he had been carrying for his father and Alexandra would put him in the mood for the pleasures he was certain these wenches would provide.

  Malek rose. “I will take my leave as well.” He turned to his men. “Return within the hour. We have an early start in the morn.”

  “Aye,” was the collective response around the table.

  Vasilis left the tavern with Malek, Ortega and Krako following them. A few minutes later, they were at their campsite and Vasilis stopped dead in his tracks, his body stiffening violently.

  He sucked in a harsh breath. “Holy Mother of God!”

  Sitting on a small boulder was Ariel, clapping her hands in glee and squealing with delight. “Alex wins!”

  Vasilis stared at his two guards, Nolan and Falk. They lay on the ground at Alex’s feet, looking up at her with a mixture of shame, respect and awe. She planted her hands firmly on hips, her legs apart, her back straight and she was looking down at them with a huge grin on her face.

  “See? Now that proves size doesn’t count. The secret is discipline and focus of not only your mind, but of your body, too, specifically your arms and legs.”

  Vasilis was too shocked to move and judging by the dead silence beside him from Malek, Oretega and Krako, they were as dazed as he was.

  “Do it again, Alex!” Ariel cried.

  Nolan and Falk rose. “You must show us how you did that, Milady. It will come in handy out on the battlefield,” Falk stated.

  “Aye,” Nolan added slowly, his expression still in awe. “You must show us how to leap in the air and spin using your legs as weapons.”

  Alexandra smiled. “All right, but it will take a lot of practice on your parts to get it right. I’ve trained for years to perfect this routine.” She turned around, her back facing them and let her arms fall to her side. “Okay. One of you charge at me.”

  “We cannot. We will harm you,” Nolan said gruffly.

  She laughed. “Trust me. You won’t.”

  Vasilis would have liked to explore why the sound of a woman’s soft laugh warmed his gut, but he was in too much shock as he watched Nolan charge her from the rear.

  Vasilis snapped. Had his guard lost his mind? She was still recuperating and he was charging at her like a ferocious lion attacking a young antelope.

  He sprung forward and managed to land himself between her back and Nolan’s stampeding hulk. Immediately, Nolan stopped dead in his tracks as Alex felt behind her, spun around and grabbed Vasilis by the arm. She vaulted through the air above his head, taking his muscular frame along with her as she flipped him to the ground.

  Stunned, he heard dead silence except for Ariel whispering, “Uh oh.”

  * * * *

  Alex ignored the pain in her leg. This exercise was good for her. What was it her dear mentor, Hiroshi Tanaka, had always told her. No pain meant no gain. If the stiffness and soreness in her muscles were any indication, she was healing very nicely.

  She straightened from the ground and extended her hand to the warrior she had just felled. She wasn’t sure which one it was because it felt like both guards had gained mass in the last few minutes.

  She winced at the shaft of pain in her shoulder and turned around. She froze, staring at the furious and stunned gaze of Vasilis. She snapped her gaze to the side and saw the rest of the guards watching her with mortified fascination. Slowly, she brought her gaze back to Vasilis who was rising from the ground.

  “Funny you should drop by,” she offered feebly, attempting a smile.

  He gave her a glowering look. “I was in the area.”

  She hid her surprise at his comment. “I…I was teaching your men…a…” She couldn’t finish. He was looking at her as though she’d sprouted another head.

  She waited and he remained silent, still watching her with that same bewildered, glowering look.

  “Your Highness, are you hurt?” Malek asked quietly.

  Vasilis didn’t reply as he kept his gaze fastened on Alex.

  “Your Highness?” Malek asked cautiously.

  “What?” Vasilis growled, looking at him. “I’m fine.” He gave his men a hooded look. “Back to your posts, men.” Giving one last, dark look at Alexandra, he strode away.

  Ariel ran to Alex and raised her little arms. Automatically, Alex picked her up and held her close. “Did you hurt the prince?” whispered Ariel.

  “No.”

  “But he looked hurt.”

  “Hush.” Alex looked at Malek and found him watching her with almost the same intensity as Vasilis. The only difference was the satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Malek, I will retire as well. Goodnight, men,” she added, glancing at the four warriors who were regarding her with respect. They all nodded.

  * * * *

  Malek watched her walk away. “Are you men thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Aye. Methinks this lassie should enter King Drago’s contest,” Ortega said gruffly.

  “Yes,” Malek offered slowly. “Exactly as I thought.”

  “So who is going to tell him?” Falk asked carefully.

  “Tell him w
hat?” Nolan asked.

  Ortega shot him a pointed look. “That his one, true mate stands right before us. You know the legend, men. For every Lycan, there is one mate.” He returned his gaze to Alex’s retreating form. “So who will tell him?”

  Malek kept his gaze narrowed on Alex carrying her little sister. She was perfect for Vasilis and he couldn’t be more satisfied. It appeared Amazons did exist, he thought dryly and this Amazon was the first person ever to bring the prince at a loss for words.

  “And risk getting my head chewed off,” he said. “Forget it. This is one battle the prince will have to face alone…and victory will be sweet.”

  He heard the collective aye from the men as they all watched Alex carry Ariel into her tent.

  * * * *

  The tent was small, but comfortable as Alex tucked her little sister in her cot and kissed her goodnight on the forehead.

  Alex drew back sharply. Her sister was warmer than usual. “Are you feeling all right, honey? No pain or aches anywhere?”

  Ariel shook her head. “Just tired.”

  Alex kissed her again, but this time she kept her mouth on Ariel’s forehead a few seconds longer to see if she had mistaken the warmth. No, she hadn’t.

  She worried her lip, wondering where Hesta was. Quickly, she went to the basin and wet a small piece of cloth. She rung it out and went back to Ariel. “Here, baby. Keep this on your forehead until Hesta returns. She’ll have something in her bag to help you.”

  Ariel nodded sleepily, closing her eyes. “I’m okay. I just want to sleep now.”

  Alex’s heart was heavy. “I love you and it’s normal for me to worry about you. You’re all I have left.”

  “G’night, Alex. Sleep well, don’t let…the bug bites…get you.”

  “It’s don’t let the bed bugs get you,” Alex said softly, knowing she would never get Ariel to say it correctly. “Angels around you.”

  Her heart swelled with love as she watched Ariel sleep, her little face serene and sweet and a fierce tug of maternal drive pulled her heartstrings. Alex wondered if this was what it was like to have your own children, this powerful need to protect and love. Sadness overwhelmed her as she pictured her future without children. How could she have children if she vowed she would never love?

  It was no use contemplating what could never be, she told herself. She had Ariel and hopefully Ariel would marry and have children. If she couldn’t be a mother, at least she could be a loving aunt. Alex smiled, thinking about her future nieces and nephews, all dark haired with dark eyes and soft, creamy skin. She pictured herself holding a little boy whose little brow would knot into a mutinous frown when things didn’t go his way—Alex stopped her train of thought. She pictured a little boy who resembled Vasilis.

  Ridiculous! She pushed him out of her mind and went to her cot. She was tired and needed a good night’s sleep. She wished Hesta wouldn’t be long. Alex needed reassurance the warmth she’d felt on Ariel’s forehead was fatigue from the journey and not a fever.

  She undressed, blew out the candles and crawled into her cot. The only thing she could hear outside was the soft rustle of the night wind and the occasional murmur of male voices. Apart from that, it was a still night and she was thankful for the quiet.

  With one final glance at Ariel, she lay back and let her body relax. Slowly, Alex fell asleep. The last thing on her mind was Vasilis and the look of sheer disbelief on his face after she’d felled him. An odd thought stayed with her. What would be his expression if he looked upon her with love?

  * * * *

  She tossed and turned, the covers tangling themselves around her thrashing form. This was one of her worst reoccurring nightmares. The one where she couldn’t find Ariel and she couldn’t wake up!

  Alex whimpered in her sleep as she yelled Ariel’s name repeatedly. There was a dense mist all around her and she twisted and turned around, trying to find an opening in the fog to see where her little sister was. She heard the terrifying sounds of wolves howling in the distance.

  “Ariel, where are you?” She moaned in her sleep, perspiration forming on her upper lip.

  She looked up, toward the sky and saw more mist. There was no way out. The wolves continued to howl. In the foggy distance, she heard a faint cry, a child’s cry. Alex panicked and screamed at the top of her lungs, a long agonizing cry that wrenched her soul.

  In her cot, tears spilled from her closed eyes and she moaned as she fought the emotional demons plaguing her in her sleep.

  She tried to run toward the sound of the child’s faint cries, but her body felt like lead and she couldn’t move. She screamed again, trying to put one foot in front of the other, but the heaviness around her was so profound, like a thousand hands holding her back.

  “I’m coming, Ariel!” she cried, tears streaming down her face in her dream and on her face on the cot.

  Then there was silence. There was only her and the mist and nothing—no sound around her. Alex spun around, her arms out, flailing, as she tried to move the fog away from her so she could see. Another guttural moan escaped her sleeping form and in her dream, she sobbed, covering her face with her hands, her body bent forward, wracked with grief.

  Then she heard it, a child’s giggle. Alex stiffened. She looked up and peered into the fog. A big shadow moved toward her.

  That’s when she saw him, in his dark, warrior garb, carrying Ariel in his arms, striding toward her with an intent look on his face, his dark gaze locking with hers. Vasilis.

  Alex felt her spirit soar with joy and she ran toward them, her arms reaching for Ariel.

  “Where did you go?” she asked softly, looking up at Vasilis as she hugged her little sister close to her breast.

  He reached out with his hand and placed it gently on the side of her face. Tenderly, he brushed away a tear with his thumb. “I went to make Ariel better.”

  Joy and gratitude filled her heart. She raised her face as he lowered his head and his lips met hers in a warm, tender kiss. Her heart swelled with feeling.

  Slowly, he withdrew his head. “Thank you, Vasilis,” she whispered.

  “Wake up. Alex, wake up.”

  * * * *

  Vasilis needed air. There was no way he was going to get any sleep tonight, so he strode out of his tent into the cool, dark night. He looked up and saw the moon was high. It would be full in four days and in four days the castle would not sleep. Ortega rose from the barrel he sat on.

  “At ease,” Vasilis said. “I am taking a walk around the camp. You can see me from here.”

  “As you wish, Your Highness,” Ortega said dutifully.

  Vasilis clenched and unclenched his fists as he walked. He was tense and he knew why.

  Alexandra.

  Where did she come from? Who was she? Why at every turn did thoughts of her invade his mind?

  And why was a woman travelling alone with a child in bandit area?

  He had too many questions and he needed answers fast. He couldn’t deny his attraction to her and he couldn’t help admitting his father would approve of her. But that wasn’t enough for him. She clearly didn’t like him and that little matter was starting to irritate the hell out of him.

  He never had trouble with wenches before. He was not blind to his attributes women seemed to find attractive and yet, this one female, this one wench, had shown him nothing but disdain and caution since she met him.

  Vasilis was puzzled. Puzzled and perturbed. Were the gods amused at his predicament? Discovering a wench with the ideal qualities for a mate and she didn’t even like him?

  He paused and noticed his walk had brought him to Alex’s tent. He wondered what she would do if he barged in and demanded answers. He was the prince, dammit! A Lycan warrior prince.

  He wanted to know everything about her. He frowned and took a step closer to the entrance. Was she even awake? What of the little one? Wouldn’t his rough entry startle her?

  He frowned again, but this time because of a sound he heard coming
from inside. It sounded like a moan or a whimper. Concerned, he flung open the flap of the tent and entered.

  He heard a groan coming from his left and he peered into the semi-darkness. Cracks from the tent allowed moonlight to filter through the shadows and he was able to make Alex out. She was twisting and writhing on her cot.

  “Ariel, where are you?” He heard her mumble.

  She moaned and he strode to her cot, kneeling beside her. He gazed at her expression and the pain and grief he saw etched on her lovely features made his heart thud. He put a hand on her forehead and murmured soft words to help wake her, but she didn’t stir from her sleep.

  Gently, he brushed away the errant tears on her lovely face. Vasilis became unmanned. There was no strength or bravery on her beautiful face, only fear and worry and he’d never felt as helpless as he did now.

  She stirred and he watched her expression slowly change. A peace seemed to come over her and she sighed in her sleep.

  “Thank you, Vasilis,” she murmured breathily and he felt his heart swell with warmth.

  “Wake up. Alex, wake up,” he said more firmly, gently rousing her on her shoulders.

  Slowly she opened her eyes, their dark brilliance nearly taking his breath away. She focused on him as their gazes meshed and locked, a delicate frown lining her perfectly arched brows.

  “Vasilis?” she whispered.

  “You were having a nightmare. I went for a walk and heard you moaning in your sleep.”

  Her expression changed slowly from one of confusion, to fear and then finally to understanding. “Thank God it was just a dream,” she said softly, sitting up to peer into the darkness toward Ariel’s cot. Her little sister was sound asleep.

  “It sounded like you were having a bad dream about Ariel.”

  She nodded slowly and looked at him. He wanted to reach out and brush her dark, silky locks away from her face, but stopped himself in time.