“You dared to…to mark me without my permission? My God, what sort of people are you? Though, it’s no wonder you’re a tyrant. Like father, like son, eh?”
“I asked for your permission. I asked if you wanted me to be your lover, you said yes. You allowed me to make love to you, mark you as mine.”
“I allowed you to fuck me,” Ulyssa screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes wild. She felt trapped. His eyes narrowed in warning at her tone, and she pressed her lips tightly together. She hadn’t meant to say it that loud though she refused to apologize. The silence drew out between them, each staring at the other, contemplating the other’s position.
“You speak too much,” Kirill said at last, pushing away from the desk to go to her. His lips curled up at the side. “Let me put your mouth to better use.”
Ulyssa’s eyes automatically dipped down to the bulge between his thighs. She didn’t understand him. He was angry, she’d bet her life that he was, and yet he wanted to sleep with her. She swallowed nervously, knowing how easy it would be to bend to his will and let him have his way. Blinking, she stiffened her back and her resolve. She forced a look of disinterest to her face and settled her fists along her hips.
“No, thanks.” Ulyssa stiffened. “I’m kind of in a hurry and need to get going.”
“Where is it you need to go?” he asked. When she didn’t show invitation, he passed by and settled down into one of the comfortable chairs. She rolled her eyes heavenward and made a face before turning to follow him.
“That’s none of your concern.” Ulyssa sat across from him, nearly getting swallowed in the chair’s folds. She struggled slightly before giving up and relaxing into the comfort of it. Leaning her head to the side, she could see his face clearly. He was studying the barren fireplace.
“Everything in my kingdom is of my concern.” Kirill looked her over. His features fell, and she could see a look of distaste come over him, as he admitted, “Besides, you were here with my father. Why do you suddenly need to leave now?”
“Argh,” she fumed. Sitting forward in the chair to glare at him, she growled, “Let’s get this straight. I wasn’t here with your father. I’ve never slept with your father. I didn’t like your father.”
“Ah, but you were in the harem,” Kirill said. “I checked. The women remember you well. They said you were moody.”
Ulyssa paled as if he’d slapped her. “I don’t care what they think of me, the simpering fools.”
“Ah, yes, I do wonder where they got that impression,” he mumbled sarcastically under his breath. She didn’t think he was funny.
“I only met King Attor once.” Ulyssa did her best to stay reasonable and calm, but his nearness distracted her. It was almost as if she could smell him on her skin. Her nerves reached out to be with him. Her body begged her to give into his, to let it feel the touch of his incredible hold one more time before she left. How much of a hurry was she in anyway? “And that was when he kidnaped me in the forest with a bunch of blond warrior idiots.”
“If what you say is true, I’m sure my father had his reasons,” Kirill said. Her mouth opened, but before she could comment, he added, “What brings you to Qurilixen? Why were you in our forest?”
Ulyssa didn’t readily answer.
“For all I know you’re a spy to be dealt with.” Kirill sat forward mimicking her blank look.
“I’m not.” A tension built between them, snapping through the air with electric fire. “I was brought to the harem about a week ago. I was in the forest camping, minding my own business, trying to get rescued from this accursed place, when he kidnaped me. Now, all I want is to get back to my campsite. Besides, I really couldn’t care less what you and your fellow felines are up to. Your planet is of no concern to me. I mean, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a much larger, much more interesting galaxy filled with planets out there.”
“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” he murmured, refusing to be bated to anger. His lids lowered over his eyes, and she got the impression he barely listened to her words. His gaze started roaming to her chest. The edge of his tongue flicked over the corner of his mouth.
Ulyssa’s eyes stayed steady, and she gave nothing away. Using all her training, she lied, “I was shipwrecked. I was waiting to be rescued when your father took me. He also took my communicator, and I’d like it back.”
“Rescue?” he prompted. His lips stayed parted, and she could remember the feel of them on her body. She trembled. She tried to fight him, but couldn’t.
This is madness, she thought, trying her best to concentrate.
She tore her eyes from him to look around the room. She began to sweat, and her limbs shook as she attempted to calm her racing pulse. Images assaulted her, fantasies that were best left unknown. She had to look at anything but him. She wanted to jump across to his lap and kiss the irritating confidence from his lips. She wanted to make love to him right there on the chair until he was under her complete control.
“In three months…” she whispered, barely paying attention to her words. She could feel his look tunneling into her, piercing her, undressing her. She wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, suddenly wanting to give him something to look at. Her stomach tingled, and she became hot. Moisture gathered between her thighs. “My ride will come and get me and I’ll be off this planet forever.”
“Mm,” he answered as if tasting a fine wine. “Where’s the wreckage?”
“I parachuted.” Her eyes could no longer keep from moving over him. She was drawn to be next to him. It was beyond her control. Before she knew what was happening, she stood. Kirill smiled at her. His arms settled back, wide and inviting. She couldn’t resist as she crossed to stand in front of him. “I believe it crashed past a big red mountain to the north. You’ll find the wreckage there.”
“That’d be Draig land,” he said, thoughtful.
Ulyssa shrugged. She already knew that. With them on the brink of war, there would be no way for him to confirm her story, at least not in time to do anything about it.
“You say help is coming?” Kirill’s hands turned out, the palms facing up.
Ulyssa didn’t stop to think. She crawled onto his lap, straddling his hips with her knees. Her fingers hesitated before lifting to smooth back the material covering his firm chest. Her breath came out in a soft pant at the contact. Her words were carried on a slight moan. “Yes in three months. I’m going to camp until then.”
“Why not stay here in the palace? It’s more comfortable than the forest.”
“But…” Ulyssa drew her hands away and tried to pull back. He grabbed her hips and held her to him.
“I’ll make you a deal, Lyssa. You stay here and be my mistress until your ride arrives.” Kirill’s fingers tightened, and he pulled her hips closer. “I can feel that you desire me. We have already been together, and you have admitted the sex between us is great.”
“I don’t want to be your mistress,” she tried to protest.
“Accept the title of it, Lyssa. Act happy with me, be seen with me, live in my house, be submissive in public and, in three months’ time, I’ll let you go.” Kirill gripped her, rocking her hips lightly along his tight body. She felt him tense beneath her thighs as he waited for a response.
“Do you promise that, no matter what, you’ll release me?” Ulyssa couldn’t believe she was even considering his offer. This man was definitely more complication than she needed. She’d be better off in the forest.
“Yes.”
“What assurance do I have that you will honor what you say? Royalty is infamous for breaking their word all the time.” She didn’t think it was possible, but he stiffened more. His eyes narrowed, and his face turned a subtle shade of red.
“You dare to question my word of honor?” he demanded through gritted teeth. He gripped her almost painfully and her hips stopped moving.
Ulyssa considered him for a moment. What’d she really have to lose? Either spend three months being eate
n by alien bugs or spend the time with a handsome lover in lush surroundings being taken care of like a princess? Whether he kept his word or not, she’d be leaving. At least in three months she should have found a way out of the palace.
“Then it’s a deal,” Ulyssa said. “On the condition you give me back my communicator. It was a gift, and I can’t afford to replace it.”
“Done,” Kirill agreed. “In three months, considering you have told me the truth, and you are indeed going to be rescued from a shipwreck, I give you my word of honor that I’ll let you leave. As to your communicator, I’ll ask around. If I find it, you’ll have it.”
“Done,” Ulyssa said with a smile. “Agreed.”
A smirk came to his handsome features, enhancing them with a playful light. “What is it humans say? Shall we kiss on it?”
“Close enough.” She gave a small moan and leaned over to meet his mouth with hers. Just as her lips brushed against his, the door to the royal office opened. She sat up straight and leaned over the edge of the chair. She grimaced at Falke as if to say: What are you doing here? Go away.
Falke bowed, giving her a mocking smile. “My lady.”
“Commander,” Ulyssa said, not moving from Kirill’s lap. She smiled. Well, if Kirill wanted her to declare herself his mistress, he was going to get a mistress. “Do you mind? I’m trying to service the king’s manhood here, and your presence is a distraction to my concentration.”
She felt Kirill stiffen beneath her legs, right before he shook with contained laughter. Falke looked at her, showing no emotion, not even shock. She was secretly impressed, but wouldn’t let her new nemesis see it. Suddenly, spending three months figuring out ways to irritate Commander Falke had some appeal.
“My king,” Falke said, keeping his steady eyes forward. Ulyssa saw well he detected her new game and welcomed her to the challenge of besting him. “Prince Olek and Prince Zoran have arrived with a small Draig guard. They request an audience.”
“Take them to the hall and give them refreshments. Find Reid and Quinn.” Kirill didn’t bother to look at his brother. Instead, his hand played with Ulyssa’s cross-laces, untying them just enough for his finger to dip beneath the under curve of her breast. “I’ll be right there.”
It was all she could do not to moan aloud as Kirill’s finger swept up over the soft globe to her nipple. He rubbed it in small circles. She absently reached for his hand to stop him.
“Very well, my lord,” Falke said. He bowed, though Kirill couldn’t see it, and left the room.
Ulyssa pulled back to look at Kirill. His features fell in disappointment as he glanced at her hand atop his, stopping his fingers from exploring her breast.
“Prince Olek and Zoran?” Ulyssa asked, dying with curiosity. She knew they were Draig, but wanted to know what they were doing at the Var palace. “Enemies of yours?”
Kirill let out a small, derisive laugh. “I wish I knew.”
She felt a tension building up in him as he took his hand from her shirt. With great ease, he picked up her hips and lifted her off his body, planting her firmly on the floor. Wearily, he stood. For a moment, he studied her, giving away nothing. His hand lifted and he cupped her face.
“You should go back to my home,” he said at last. He moved to turn.
“Ah, I can’t,” Ulyssa answered. “Besides, shouldn’t I come with you? You know, make a submissive public appearance or something.”
“Not to this. This kingdom’s concerns are not your own.” Kirill turned to move toward the door. “If you wish it, I’ll introduce you to my brothers later at dinner. For now, go to my home.”
Ulyssa frowned, not liking how he ordered her about. “I can’t go to your home, oh mighty ruler.”
Kirill sighed, turning to look at her.
Before he could speak, she rushed, “I don’t know the way. It took me two hours to wander this far.”
“Siren,” Kirill announced. “Send Navid.”
“Oh, um.” Ulyssa lifted her hand and shook her head.
“What is it now?”
“I kind of, well, I knocked him down when trying to escape Falke yesterday. I don’t think he’d be too happy to help me.” Ulyssa gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. “He was in my way.”
“Siren, cancel Navid. Send me Talure.” Kirill sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into with you, but try to behave while I’m gone. Just promise me you’ll try.”
“You’d take the word of a lowly captive?” she teased.
His face fell. He didn’t get the joke. Preoccupied with thoughts of dire things she couldn’t begin to guess at, he merely answered, “Think of our arrangement as you wish, Lyssa. Only, remember it was you who claimed to be my woman, not the other way around. I’m trying to make the best of our situation. I expect you to remember our bargain. I’ll hold you to your word.”
Ulyssa watched him leave. She moved to follow him, but as she pulled the door open a tall, slender guard stood in her way. Even though the dark blond warrior was smaller than the other Vars she’d seen, he was still rugged and handsome. Didn’t this race have any ugly men? She nodded her head at the man. “Talure?”
“My lady,” he answered with a respectful bow.
Ulyssa saw him sniff the air as he leaned toward her. She suddenly wondered if she smelled bad. All the Var kept trying to sniff her—Falke, the guards. Did Kirill’s marking leave her a little pungent? When Talure turned his back to lead the way down the long hallway, she lifted her armpit and inhaled. She couldn’t smell anything too offensive. “Hmm.”
“My lady?” Talure asked, turning to glance over his shoulder just as she was lowering her arm. His brows furrowed together in the beginning of a grimace.
Ulyssa turned a subtle shade of pink. She lifted her hand like she was stretching in a pitiful attempt to hide what she’d been doing. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
11
Kirill sat at the head of a long table in the main hall, listening patiently to Prince Olek as he spoke. The Draig prince’s light brown hair hung to his shoulders and was braided from the temples down. He had straightforward green eyes that appeared to see everything around him and yet they gave nothing away. Smile lines edged his mouth as if he laughed often, but he wasn’t smiling now. Olek was the Draig ambassador and, from what Kirill could tell, he was an honest man who did want peace between their two kingdoms.
The prince’s temperamental brother Zoran, on the other hand, reminded Kirill of Falke. Zoran stared at them with a thinly concealed rage. Falke returned the dark look. Neither man had made a move of aggression, but both seemed ready to strike at the slightest provocation. They had the same thick, sturdy build to them, a build that came from decades of war and training.
Zoran was the Draig Captain of the Guard, and his presence demanded respect. He was the hardest of all the dragon-shifter brothers and Kirill knew he would not be satisfied with the outcome of their meeting today. Zoran, like Falke, would not cower if they were to go to war. When Kirill looked at the two commanders, he knew neither would bend. War would be a bloody option for both houses.
“You know I can’t admit to something of which I have no knowledge,” Kirill said at last, doing his best to be diplomatic. The Draig wanted answers. He couldn’t blame them. But, what they wanted, he couldn’t and wouldn’t give. “If King Attor ordered the attacks on your family, I don’t know about it. We have no records of these events.”
Zoran tensed. Olek merely nodded. Kirill was reasonably sure his father had done the things they accused him of but refused to voice his suspicions to the Draig princes. To do so would be adding fuel to the already raging fire between their people.
“I can assure you,” Kirill continued, “that I don’t share my father’s views of our kingdoms. As I have said before, it’s my hope that the House of Draig and the House of Var may find peace.”
Falke tensed next to him. Quinn caught his eye and nodded in silent agreement. Reid, who stood beh
ind them, didn’t move.
Slowly, Olek stood and extended his hand. “I’ll pass your words onto my father. It, too, is my hope we can reach an understanding.”
It was Zoran’s turn to tense. His jaw flexed as he too stood up. His voice a hard growl, he stated, “There is much to consider, however.”
“Yes, much,” Falke answered in harsh agreement.
Kirill took Olek’s hand and clasped it briefly. They both sighed, knowing the commanders had faced each other often in battle over the many decades. No matter how much they wished it, peace would not be gained overnight.
“And pass along my congratulations to your family on the princesses’ pregnancies. You’re truly blessed to have all four with children at once,” Kirill said. His words were more of an acknowledgment that he knew what happened on Draig land than a congratulations to the royal family. It served to remind Zoran they were not ignorant of dragon-shifter affairs. “May your line stay healthy.”
“As may yours,” Olek said.
Kirill thought of Ulyssa. Why did she pop into his head at such a moment? He could sense that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but he didn’t believe she was a spy for the Draig. Whatever it was she was hiding, he could think of worse ways of pumping her for information than doing it in his bed.
Olek bowed before turning to Zoran. Zoran motioned to a group of Draig soldiers sitting nearby. The dragon-shifter guards stood and followed the princes from the hall. Falke followed behind them to escort them out without having to be asked.
“What do you think?” Reid asked when they were alone. He sat where Olek had been, grabbed the pitcher of Qurilixen ale from the table, and poured himself a goblet.
“I think they are like us,” Quinn said. “They want peace, but they don’t know how to trust us. How can we blame them?”
“How indeed,” Kirill said.
There was a long moment of silence. Suddenly, Reid grinned. “Are the rumors true, my king?”
“What rumors?” Kirill blinked, confused. Reid laughed, prompting Quinn to do the same. Grumbling, he added, “And stop calling me my king. It sounds mocking coming from you.”
The Savage King Page 8
