The Dark Prince's Prize (Curizan Warrior Book 2)

by S. E. Smith

  She laughed and gripped the door handle. “What fun is it if I don’t make you work for it? So, are you coming or staying?” she inquired, slamming the door.

  He gave her a crooked smile and shook his head. “I will catch a ride back with Mason,” he said.

  She frowned. “Are you serious? It is freezing out here and only going to get colder. I can think of a lot of things more exciting than sitting on the side of the road freezing my ass off and waiting for a ride,” she exclaimed.

  He stepped up next to the window and gave her an intense look that made her swallow again. There was that spark of danger in his expression that she had noticed before. She also noticed that the colors swirling around him were stretching out to surround her. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go but down.

  “Your kiss would keep me warm,” he said, his voice dropping a seductive notch.

  “If I give you a kiss, will you get in the truck?” she asked, her focus locked on his lips.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  His short response made her grin. She removed her hat from her head and leaned into him. Her lips barely touched his, yet the spark of heat that hit her felt like she had jumped into the middle of a bonfire. She jerked back before he could take the kiss any further.

  “Done, now get in,” she ordered, straightening in her seat and pulling her hat back on.

  His answer sounded like a muttered curse, only in a language she didn’t understand. She started the truck and put on her seat belt as he stomped around the truck to the passenger’s side. She tried not to grin as he continued to mutter. He looked like a kid on the playground who had just lost his favorite toy to the class bully. He yanked open the passenger door and climbed in.

  “That was not a kiss,” he muttered.

  She snorted. “Well, it’s all you’re getting,” she retorted.

  Chapter Nine

  Adalard was almost thankful that the ride back to the ranch was done in silence. Between the freezing wind blowing in from the busted window and the heat cranked up as far as it would go so they wouldn’t freeze, they would have had to yell to be heard. Well, there was another way, but something warned him that Samara wasn’t ready to find out that he had been honest about his origins.

  He thought about his conversation with Samara’s brother. The man was a waste of good oxygen in his opinion. Jerry’s disregard for Samara infuriated him, and it had taken considerable self-control not to throttle the man again. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in retrieving information from those who were reluctant to give it.

  “I need to drive the UTV down from the upper paddock. Would you mind dropping me off and driving my truck back to the barn?” she requested. “You can leave it there. I think there is some plastic sheeting I can use in the workroom to seal the window until I can see if the junkyard has one. If they don’t, I’ll have to order one.”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning onto the long driveway.

  She drove past Mason’s house and turned left to follow the road up to the main homestead where he was staying. She continued along the narrow track. Up ahead, the trees grew sparse, and he could see the vast open plains that were visible from the back of the homestead. Snow-capped mountains rose in the distance. Adalard could see a red barn that was smaller than the one near the main house. In front of the barn was the four-wheeled vehicle Samara had used earlier.

  She pulled to a stop beside it and shifted the truck into park. They sat in silence, looking out over the valley. He could sense she wanted to say something and was frustrated by his inability to break through the barrier that shielded her mind. He would have to ask Ha’ven about how his connection with Emma had progressed. If Arrow were on board the Rayon I he would have asked him, even if it meant getting another lecture about not paying attention to Salvin, their mentor and Keeper of the Archives.

  “We still need to talk, but it can wait. You only got here today. It’s hard to believe that. It feels like a lot longer.” She paused, took a breath, and shook her head as if answering an unspoken question. “Thanks again.”

  She opened her door and slid out, cringing at the crackle of broken glass. He exited the vehicle at the same time and met her at the front. His expression softened when he saw the metal box that held her life savings in her hands. She held it protectively against her chest like a shield.

  He caressed her cheek with his fingers. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she lowered the invisible mental wall between them, allowing him to connect with her for the first time. His chest tightened with emotion when he sensed her confusion, making it hard to breathe.

  “We can talk when you are ready,” Adalard said.

  Samara gave him a brief, uncertain smile before she walked away. He sighed and watched her hurry into the barn. Walking around to the driver’s side, he paused and studied the door with the missing window.

  With a mischievous smile and a devilish glint in his eyes, he lifted his hand and focused on the door. The small fragments of broken glass rose out of the empty slot in the door, and with a burst of energy, they were expanded and reformed, creating a new window. He tested his repair, pushing and pulling the button on the door to make sure that the window functioned properly.

  “Yes, misha petite lawarrior, we will have much to talk about later,” he murmured with satisfaction.

  He climbed into the truck and shut the door. Samara had unwittingly given him a chance to familiarize himself with a human vehicle, which might come in handy over the next few days. He turned down the heat, shifted the truck into reverse, and took his time following the road back to Paul’s house.

  Five minutes later, he parked the truck outside of the barn. He contemplated what he should do with the keys before an idea formed that made him smile. Lifting his hand, he thought of the painting in the house with the vase of flowers in it.

  Adalard relished the feeling of energy flowing through him as a bright red stem formed. It twisted, flowing upward from the palm of his hand. Bright yellow leaves branched out at intervals before delicate, violet petals the color of his eyes took shape.

  This flower species only grew along the riverbank near the palace grounds. As a child, he had been fascinated with them. He gently stroked the closed center and it opened. He carefully dropped the keys inside the flower and placed the blossom on the driver’s seat. He was confident that none of Samara’s brothers would return today, and her truck would be safe.

  He shut the door and looked back up the road. Today was without a doubt one of the strangest days of his life. He had started out with the idea of having some fun exploring a new world but discovered his mate instead. Now, he just needed to figure out how to keep from ruining it.

  “First things first—find the device on my ship. It is a danger to me and that makes it a danger to Samara,” he murmured.

  It was too far to phase-jump to his ship. He would have to travel by foot. The journey back would be easier because he could use a hoverboard. Within minutes, he was deep in the forest.

  It was mid-afternoon when Samara steered the UTV along the road that led to the western section of the ranch. She wanted to check in with Bear, the foreman who oversaw the cattle. It was beginning to snow again, just like the forecaster predicted.

  She wished the only things on her mind were the weather and the missing horses, but she was still thinking of Adalard. The scene in the truck and their brief kiss played like a broken record in her thoughts. She muttered a curse when she hit a pothole, and the UTV roughly bounced.

  “It wasn’t really a kiss. It was more of a peck,” she defended, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

  She sighed with relief when she saw the bunkhouse, barn, and stables. Bear was talking to one of the cowpokes when she pulled up in front of the barn. She saw a saddled horse out front that she recognized.

  Bear grinned and raised a hand in greeting. She responded in kind before grabbing her hat and op
ening the door of the UTV. Bear murmured something to the man standing beside him and then walked over to her.

  “Hey, Samara, what brings you to this side of the ranch?” Bear asked.

  Samara nodded toward the mare. “I was missing some horses. I figured this would be a good place to start my search,” she responded.

  “Damn, I was hoping you’d finally decided to go out with me. I thought Mason would have told you I needed to borrow a few when I didn’t see you this morning, but I guess he didn’t. He hired some temporary help to look for strays, and I was down a few,” Bear said.

  “That’s okay. I came in a bit late and brought a new guy for the survival training. He probably just forgot with everything going on,” she replied.

  “A new guy? This should be fun,” Bear chuckled.

  Samara grinned and nodded. “Yeah. The guy doesn’t look military. He’s more of a rich European-type, if you ask me. Anyway, Mason will give Adalard his money’s worth. How long are you going to need the horses?” she asked.

  “I’ll need them for a few weeks at least. The recent storms have scattered the herd over half the ranch,” he replied with a disgruntled scowl.

  “If you need help, I could ask Mason for more hours. I’ve got a meeting with him later this afternoon,” she suggested.

  Bear’s eyes lit up. “That would be great. Listen, about what I said earlier, I was wondering if you would like to grab a beer and a meal?” he asked.

  Almost immediately Adalard’s violet eyes flashed through her mind when he suggested a kiss in payment. Panic hit her hard when her body reacted with a strange tingling sensation. She forcibly pushed it down and found herself nodding in agreement. Hell, it wouldn’t hurt to go out for a meal. Besides, she justified, she needed to eat, and she liked Bear.

  “Sure,” she replied before she could change her mind. “When?”

  “How about tomorrow night? I can pick you up at your place,” he said with a huge grin.

  “That sounds great. Well, I guess I’d better go. I still have work,” she replied.

  She silently groaned as she hurried back to the UTV. She was already regretting her impulsive—or more like defiant—response. She should have told Bear no. He had been hinting around for the past six months about going out with her, but she always brushed him off. This was the first time he had actually come right out and asked.

  “One date won’t hurt anything,” she mumbled as she climbed into the UTV.

  She smiled and waved at Bear before backing up and turning around. Her smile faded the moment he couldn’t see her face any longer. A rueful chuckle slipped from her.

  “Well, if nothing else, I have to admit that today has been an eventful one so far. Hopefully, nothing else will happen—like an alien invasion. At the rate things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised,” she said with a snort, remembering Adalard’s alien shtick. Just one of him was quite enough.

  At the moment she didn’t have time to worry about aliens and dating. She needed to focus on finishing her work and hoping that Mason would let her rent the apartment in the barn. After today’s fiasco with her brothers, Wilson was in her thoughts—his decision to escape their family and not look back in particular. If she was to preserve her own peace of mind and future, she needed to get the hell away from them as well.

  Adalard’s energy began draining the moment he stepped inside the transport. The intensity caused him to stagger. He placed his hand against the hull to steady himself and shook his head. The effect was worse than before.

  He slid his hand along the wall, trembling and disoriented until his sense of survival kicked in, and he realized it was imperative that he exit the transport.

  By the time he reached the bottom of the platform, he could barely stand. He stumbled over to a nearby boulder and leaned against it. Sweat coated his brow despite the freezing temperature. He shivered as a steady wind cut through the narrow ravine.

  This was worse than he realized. The weapon that had been activated could prove deadly to the Curizan race. He pulled the communicator from his belt. His finger hovered over the button before he returned it to his belt and moodily stared at the transport.

  His first thought was to connect to Ha’ven, but there was nothing his brother could do. In fact, there was nothing anyone could do—not without developing the disabling weakness that he was experiencing. Because of the mission’s location, there was only one non-Curizan personnel member on duty—a Moniker named Crom who had decided he would be Emma and Ha’ven’s personal guard. All other members of the crew were Curizans hand-picked to ensure the security of this defenseless planet.

  He growled in frustration. He couldn’t bring Crom down to the planet. There was no way he would chance the Moniker being seen by a human. There was also no way of knowing if the entity aboard the transport might be dangerous to the Moniker. The species held a latent power similar to that of the Curizan.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t even retrieve the hoverboard. Adalard looked at the sky as thick snowflakes began to fall. This was the second time today that he felt powerless to control the situation.

  He must talk to Arrow. His twin could give him some idea of what he could do. Arrow loved mysteries like this. Unfortunately, in order to send a signal that far, he would have to patch into the deployed communication relays or go through the Rayon I’s communication system—both would take time to install which the weather would not allow. He gritted his teeth in frustration and closed the transport’s platform.

  “I hope Arrow has some ideas,” he muttered, turning in resignation and retracing his steps back to the homestead.

  The sound of debris falling from above the ravine caused him to halt and look up. He stiffened when he saw someone standing at the cliff edge. Through the falling snow, he recognized Samara.

  “Adalard?” she called out.

  She hadn’t seen him yet. Using the increased snowfall to his advantage, he focused on a section close to her and phase-jumped. The familiar tingle of energy surrounded him.

  The power to teleport was still relatively new to him. When Ha’ven used this ability before in his and Arrow’s presence, it had captured their attention. Arrow, using a more scientific approach, had pinpointed the method of controlling the energy in the molecular structure of his body down to the smallest atoms.

  Neither of his brothers understood completely how the process worked. He was just thankful for the newfound talent because it had saved his neck more than once in the past few months—including now.

  “Samara, what are you doing here?” he demanded.

  She sharply turned on her heel, startled. Her lips parted on a gasp, and her eyes widened with surprise when her foot slipped on an ice-covered rock. She reached out to him as she started to fall backwards.

  His heart was racing as he wrapped his fingers around her outstretched wrist. He roughly pulled her into his embrace, holding her against his body. She tightly gripped his heavy jacket.

  “Th-thank you,” she muttered in a shaky breath.

  He was lost the moment she tilted her head back and stared up at him. He saw the same remains of fear in her eyes that he felt himself. Leaning down, he captured her lips in a heated kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  Samara parted her lips under Adalard’s. It was hard to believe, but her heart was beating more frantically now than when she almost fell to her death after Adalard startled her. She forced her fingers to relax against his jacket and slid her hands up to his shoulders.

  The same tingling feeling ran through her that seemed to happen every time she and Adalard touched. She could also see colors swirling around them. Almost like they were threads trying to weave them together in some cosmic way.

  Curious, she ran her tongue along his teeth. Images of Little Red Riding Hood and the scene with the Wolf danced through her mind when she noticed that his canines appeared sharper than normal. Instead of being repulsed, she found them sexy.

  All the better to bite
me with, she mused.

  I like the thought of that.

  She pulled back, startled again. This time because she could have sworn that she had heard him respond to her thought, except his voice was in her head. He started to bend forward and kiss her again, but she covered his mouth with her gloved hand and gave him a slightly apologetic smile.

  “I’ll give you that one as thanks. Sorry about the glove on the mouth. At least these aren’t the ones I shovel manure with,” she said with a wry grin.

  His nose wiggled with distaste, and he rubbed his hand across his mouth when she stepped away. She released a strained chuckle and looked back down into the ravine, keeping a healthy distance from the edge. When she turned her focus back to him, she noticed that snow was beginning to accumulate on the brim of his hat.

  “We’d better get back. The weather forecast said the storm would be worse than expected,” she informed him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, following her.

  She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him. “Looking for some dumb-ass greenhorn who decided to go where he was told not to go,” she stated, turning back to the mare.

  “Who—? Ah, you are speaking of me,” he dryly realized.

  She waved a hand around. “Do you see anyone else? You can explain why you took off without telling anyone on the way back,” she retorted, mounting the mare. She waved at the gelding stomping his right hoof against the ground. “I hope you know how to ride a horse.”

  He studied the gelding. “I believe I can manage,” he dryly answered.

  She loosely held the reins and waited as he mounted the gelding. Once he was seated, she gently guided the mare back in the direction of the ranch. They rode in silence, single file, for about a quarter of a mile before she turned onto a narrow dirt road that was wide enough to ride side-by-side.

  “This would have come in handy earlier,” he muttered.