by Jayne Ripley
He desperately wanted her. He wanted to steal a ship and fly away from here with her by his side. Too bad that was a thought worthy of only mockery. He could not fly a starship any more than he could turn invisible. It shamed him that he’d learned Darkon could finally do something that Nahkar couldn’t do better. Hopefully, his little mate wouldn’t be impressed by star pilots.
Nahkar wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to take her home again, to her Earth home with all the strange names, and stay there with her. He had never felt this way about another female before. Sure, he’d had plenty of lovers. Yes, he had cared for them. He had grown deeply fond of many of them. But Jennifer Smith was in a different class entirely. His feelings for her were a hunger that could not be denied. They were a need that consumed him. If this was the result of the mara vrhon like Darkon claimed, then it had broken through every one of his defenses. He was in its power.
All he knew now was that he needed to make Jennifer Smith his. He had to have her. It was taking all his control to keep himself from picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her into the closest bedroom, and fucking her senseless. After he was done with her, she would never want to leave his side.
Or his bed.
Servants arrived to clear away the dishes from their meal. He was pleased to see Jennifer eating well. She finished everything on her plate almost as quickly as he had. Darkon had been the slow one. The three of them hadn’t talked much during the meal. Even Darkon, who chatted almost as much as a female, had focused on downing his bland Quindon food.
More servants followed the first ones, bringing clothing from Nahkar and Darkon’s quarters at the arena barracks. The servants didn’t say anything, but they watched the three of them with wide eyes, in a kind of awe. They seemed especially fascinated with Jennifer. He detected a little envy in the eyes of the female servants. The palace did not use slaves for its labor, but the servants usually knew all the best gossip. They would know that Jennifer was a Terran slave given to the most famous arena fighter in the system. Nahkar Ka-Razal.
He idly scratched at one of the scars on his neck, waiting for the servants to finish and leave. He’d enjoyed a heaping plate of perfectly cooked moroso kan steak and spicy advanka bits. Now he kicked back in one of the chairs near a fancy table with a waterfall fountain built into the center. He was drinking an elsdyn ale, an expensive, exclusive brew that he’d only had twice in his life.
Fancy prison cell or not, he could get used to this place.
Except for the fact that he didn’t have his sword. Blood Eater wasn’t with the things the servants brought from his barracks room. They hadn’t brought Darkon’s spear either. He hoped those imperial police bastards hadn’t left it lying on the floor for a scavenger or a tourist after they’d shot him. It was his favorite sword.
The reason why the imperials kept their weapons from them became as clear as synth-glass when Darkon checked the holoscreen feeds. Nearly every channel showed footage of their battle in the tunnel. The news feeds especially loved to show the part where he cut Jennifer’s tether and swept her up in his arms.
He approved of their choice.
Although it was a bit vexing when she ran away from him.
Jennifer watched the holo footage in silence. She folded her arms across her chest as if she were hugging herself.
The powerful urge to comfort her struck him hard. He was not the type to deny his urges—not often anyway—so he went to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
Touching her was heaven. He immediately wanted more. He never wanted to stop touching her. She belonged to him.
It took control like steel and focus like a laser to get his desires under control again.
She looked up at him, her pretty eyes shining with tears. “They are showing this footage? Everywhere? To everyone?”
He gave her a reassuring squeeze, trying not to focus on those very kissable lips of hers. He didn’t know why she was so upset. He looked impressive in that footage, beating down slavers and cutting her free. At least until he was shot several times.
“Don’t worry,” he told her gravely. “It won’t take long for them to move on to something else and forget about us. For now, let them watch us fighting those cowardly slavers and be jealous of our glorious defiance.”
“For once, he’s right,” Darkon added with a smirk. “Citizens want to be entertained. What could be more entertaining than the champions of the arena fighting Jandami slavers? I’m sure the gamemasters wish they could’ve charged admission fees.”
Nahkar glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “You just said champions. The arena only has one champion. Me.”
“Humble as ever, Nahkar,” Darkon said with a snort. “I’m surprised your bloated ego can fit through those double doors.”
Jennifer covered her mouth, trying to hide a smile. He gently drew her hand away, wanting to see it. Something about her smiles raised his spirits. The light, musical sound when she laughed made him feel strangely happy. He wanted to hear that laughter more often. He wanted her smile to stay on her face, to warm those guileless eyes.
The entrance doors to their suite hissed open, surprising all three of them. But no one was more surprised than Nahkar when he saw who glided into the room.
He was staring right at Imperial Princess Moa Piedasa.
She did not look happy.
Oh, grox. This was all he needed.
Piedasa was wearing an elaborate golden gown that swept down to her feet. It was accented with onyx chips, gold, and platinum. The gown was cut low in the front, showing off her ample cleavage, almost revealing the tips of her large breasts. Her neck was long and graceful and decorated with several necklaces that probably cost more than a small starship. Her skin was a light orange. Her hair was jet black. Her irises were orange-red. They seemed like fire as her gaze locked onto him.
Angry fire.
Turning, she dismissed her imperial bodyguards, ordering them to wait outside. Then she sauntered to the center of the room, knowing every pair of eyes was on her and loving it the entire time.
“Nahkar,” she purred, giving him a coy smile. “You’ve been naughty.”
He wasn’t fooled by her playful tone. He might not be as smart as Darkon—something he would never admit out loud and probably wasn’t a mystery to anyone either—but he was no fool. He could tell when a female was furious and hiding it behind her banter.
Hiding it until she could pounce and tear out his throat like a razor-dreng.
He put on the expected show of cracking his knuckles and looking annoyed. “I met some Jandami slavers who weren’t fans. So I corrected them.”
Her laugh sounded light, but it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. She wasn’t amused. “Oh, don’t be modest. I don’t like it. The entire quadrant is all gossip about the riot you caused.” She sashayed closer, pouting her lips a little.
Nahkar could feel Jennifer’s eyes on the both of them. He started to sweat. The desire he had once felt for Piedasa was long gone. Vanished completely. Even her sexy and expensive clothing did not snag his interest as it once would have. He looked at her now and all he saw were the ways she wasn’t Jennifer Smith, his little Terran mate. The princess was arrogant, self-obsessed, and cruel. While he was wise enough to know he was a bit arrogant and self-obsessed himself—what champion wasn’t?—Piedasa took it to an entirely different level.
He only hoped she didn’t stalk over and kiss him. What would Jennifer think then? Piedasa already looked like she wanted to mark him as hers again, to lay claim to him. He needed to distract her somehow. He needed to keep his distance. Words weren’t his strong point, but right now they were all he had.
“I’d hardly call it a riot,” Nahkar said with a snort. “A tussle. Nothing more than that. Something to keep me from boredom.”
He tried not to glance at Jennifer, even though every nerve ending in his body seemed aware of her presence, her mood, her body language. She stood very still, h
er wide eyes taking the scene in. She was keeping her mouth shut, which meant she was a good deal smarter than he was. He approved of her caution.
Meanwhile, his blue-skinned friend was watching the princess as if she was as dangerous as the monsters they fought in the arena.
Darkon was exactly right to be wary.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Your Highness,” Nahkar said, struggling to keep that mix of arrogance and deference that Piedasa liked. He wanted her gone for many reasons, most of them having to do with keeping her away from Jennifer. Besides, the princess had always made him come to her in the past and sent him away through the servants’ passages after he’d sated her needs. So what was she after, coming here to see him now?
Her dark eyebrows rose. “Surprised? Are you really? Oh, officially the imperial family will have nothing to do with the savage scum who fight in the arena. Such lurid entertainment is beneath our royal refinement, isn’t it?” She grinned dangerously. “But what’s between us has never been official has it? And now I’ve heard all kinds of things that upset me. You were sold to a new buyer. You’ve been confined here with…” Her orange-red eyes flicked to Darkon, then to Jennifer, and dismissed them just as quickly. “Undesirable, rebellious, dirty, low-class individuals.”
“Hey, Boobzilla,” Jennifer said sharply, her brow set in a fierce scowl that impressed even him. “I’ll have you know I was kidnapped from my home and dragged here in chains. So if I’m a dirty, undesirable, low-class individual, you’ll simply have to find it in your royal heart to forgive me.”
Nahkar closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. This had started off as a nightmare and had only gotten worse.
The princess turned on Jennifer, her eyes flashing. She took two steps and slapped Jennifer across the face. The sound of the impact reverberated around the room.
Piedasa raised her hand to hit Jennifer again. She meant to strike her other cheek this time. Darkon started to move, but Nahkar got to the princess first, grabbing the hand she’d raised by the wrist and halting the blow. She was no match for his strength. He easily kept her from hurting Jennifer again.
“Stop,” he growled. “You’re better than this, princess.”
Jennifer appeared more shocked than hurt by the slap. He thanked the stars she had not slapped or punched back. Striking one of the royal family, especially by a slave, was a death sentence. Even Nahkar was skirting dangerously close to the line by grabbing the princess without permission.
But he was not going to let her hit his mate again.
The princess looked up at him as he held her arm. For a moment, he saw the utter rage in her eyes. She looked like she would’ve blasted a hole through him if she’d held an energy weapon right now. But then her eyes turned coy and seductive. She sidled closer, pressing her curves against his body.
“Ooh. I like when you are rough and commanding, Nahkar. So gallant and noble. You’re protecting this ignorant and smelly slave girl. The galactic media will love it.”
He let her go, forcing himself to control his temper. The sound of the slap still echoed in his ears. “What do you want, Your Highness? Why are you really here?”
Again, her eyes flashed with anger at his blunt questions before she covered it again. Piedasa had never been good at hiding her emotions. Come to think of it, neither was he. Especially when Jennifer was around. His mate unwound him in all kinds of ways.
Was it strange that he didn’t mind when Jennifer did that to him?
Piedasa’s words had turned colder. “I came to see what happened for myself. Why? Because it looked as if you were trying to free this filthy, stupid slave girl.” Her eyes cut to Jennifer again. The dislike in them was easy to read. “I can’t fathom why. I don’t know what kind of creature she is, but she is hideous.”
His anger sharpened again. But he needed to be very careful. He could tell by Darkon’s frozen expression that he was more than furious. Darkon liked to talk. If he started in with his cutting jests or sarcasm, then Nahkar had no idea how this would end. Except that it would end badly.
Somehow, he needed to defuse this situation quickly. After all, it had started because of him.
Everything had started because of him.
“Your Highness, you might be as beautiful as the Cangiri Nebula, but you have unique tastes,” Nahkar told her, giving her the arrogant smile that had first cleared his way into her bed and between her legs. That seemed like a distant, unimportant memory after meeting Jennifer. Piedasa might be shapely and eager, but now he had found someone so much better in so many ways. He’d barely started to know his mate, and surprisingly, he was eager to learn more of her. He wanted to know every detail, every thought, every like and dislike. That rarely happened between him and any female. “If you want to call someone hideous, you only need to look at me. I look like the ass-end of a dadoquek.”
The princess tittered. “Oh, that might be true, but you have the body of a sun god and the cock of a sex god, so you are forgiven.”
The princess put her arms around Nahkar again and snuggled against his chest. She gave a little teasing purr.
He endured it. He had no other choice. It was better that the princess had her attention on him instead of on Jennifer. This was a very dangerous situation. As dangerous as anything he’d faced in the arena, fighting two-story-tall monsters with only his sword.
Right now, he deeply regretted ever climbing into the princess’s bed. She hadn’t really given him a choice at the time, although he’d found her desirable and certainly hadn’t complained. But he was just an owned arena fighter she thought of as a sex toy that pleased her. That hadn’t bothered him or his ego.
Until now.
He risked a glance at Jennifer, afraid of what was going through her mind. If Piedasa hadn’t been part of the extended imperial family—an off-shoot branch that was still powerful and wealthy—he would’ve already picked her up and dumped her on her butt outside.
The princess touched his lower lip with her finger. “Don’t scowl. I don’t like it.” She began to pout. “I’m losing my patience. I want to know what happened in the tunnel.” Just as quickly, her pout vanished and her stare hardened. “Because many people at court are calling for your death, my precious Nahkar. There’s only so much I can do to protect you.”
“We are all grateful for your help, Your Highness,” Darkon said flatly. Nahkar knew the Quindon well enough to understand he was being sarcastic, although he was also careful to keep the tone of his words neutral.
Piedasa glanced at him, annoyed he had spoken. “You should be. I took a big political risk convincing the king and imperial court that you shouldn’t be disintegrated and the corporations that owned you shouldn’t be heavily fined. But if you continue to misbehave…or if you fail to entertain the crowds after all this attention, even I cannot save you, Nahkar. You will be a liability.”
Jennifer surprised him by speaking up. This time, her tone was restrained, even deferential. “You are very generous, Your Highness,” she said softly, keeping her eyes downcast. “We know the risk to your reputation, and we thank you with all our hearts.”
Seeing Jennifer looking submissive for someone other than him brought back all the feelings that had set Nahkar off when he’d first seen her bound by those slavers. But this time, his emotions were more complex. It wasn’t simply raw rage and fury and the need to save her. He understood Jennifer was playing this role on purpose. She had realized the threat here. She might not like the princess, but she knew Piedasa was dangerous. Jennifer was playing the role of chastised slave.
A surge of gratitude swept through him. She was putting the two of them above her fiery pride. He knew from experience how difficult that was.
The princess eyed Jennifer as if she were insect dung that had suddenly spoken a complete sentence. “Yes. You should be grateful. It pleases me that you may be a hopeless primitive, but at least you are intelligent enough to give thanks when your worthless life is spared. In other words, even
savages can learn.” She smirked. “If you hit them hard enough.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Nahkar growled. He’d tried to be good. He’d tried to be careful. He couldn’t. He could not stand here and watch his mate be insulted and slapped. He didn’t care if he wound up executed; he would not stand for it. “You should leave, princess.”
Piedasa gaped at him, her orange-red eyes wide with shock. “What did you say to me?”
“You heard exactly what I said. Jennifer Smith is a Terran. She was abducted from her Earth and dragged into our system as a captive in chains. Even you have no right to talk to her like that or to hit her.”
“That’s treason,” Princess Piedasa warned him in a voice like ice. “Make no mistake, arena slave. I used you for my own amusement, but you do not give me commands. You should be groveling at my feet, thanking me that your lowborn life has not been ended. Begging for my continued favor.”
Nahkar said nothing. He only pointed at the door. He could feel his anger churning inside him. Instead of the heat he’d felt earlier when he’d seen the slavers mistreating his little human, he only felt cold fury for what Piedasa had said and done to Jennifer. “Leave. Now. We are finished.”
She slapped him. She was quick and stronger than she looked. He didn’t care. She could strike him all she wished. The princess had struck him hard, but his cheek barely stung.
He had been hit harder and by far worse many times in his life.
Besides, Jennifer’s slap had stung. The princess? She didn’t compare.
Her eyes flashed with rage. She didn’t like how he hadn’t flinched the slightest bit when she’d hit him. He knew he might come to regret tossing her out like this, but he didn’t care. The princess had crossed a line when she had not only insulted Jennifer but hit her too.
No one hurt his mate. Not even one of the royal princesses. Even though that large imperial family controlled most of the galaxy, Nahkar refused to let any of them harm his Jennifer as long as he still had breath in his lungs. He had barely met his mate, barely knew her, but his heart understood without a doubt that this was right. This was honorable. This was good.