Sons of Lyra: Slave Princess

by Felicity Heaton

  “Fine,” she said and looked back out of the window. So what if he didn’t want to keep her. She didn’t want him to be her master anyway. She’d find a job on the planet he dumped her on, save enough to buy a rusty old space ship, track him down and fly it into his fancy fighter ship in the hopes of killing him. Her gaze flicked to his pistol. The pact she’d made was starting to sound possible after all. If only he’d take his hand away from his gun.

  He stood and paced across the room.

  Her gaze ran down his body and her thoughts betrayed her again. He really had looked after himself. The flight suit left nothing to the imagination. Every muscle was outlined for her pleasure. He turned back to face her, his hands clasped behind him. Her stomach warmed. Every muscle.

  She raised her eyes to his face. She could see why half the galaxy spoke of the sons of Lyra as though they were gods. He was handsome, his dark hair and brows setting off the equal darkness of his eyes, and his straight nose and bowed lips making him appear as regal as she knew he was.

  “It will probably be a day or so before we reach a suitable planet,” he said and she wished he hadn’t spoken.

  She’d been happily lost in a fantasy and he’d had to ruin it by reminding her that he intended to ditch her.

  “You should have left me back there,” she said and got to her feet. She went to the row of windows and leaned against the grab rail that ran at waist height along them.

  “He would have killed you.”

  “I know.” She leaned forwards, folding her arms and resting her chin on them.

  “You’d rather die than be free?” He stood beside her. She could feel his gaze boring into her face. She didn’t look at him.

  She didn’t say a word.

  There was nothing to say. The Sekarian probably would have killed her, but it sounded like a better fate than being dumped on some distant dreary planet. She gave it a week before she was someone else’s slave or worse. This time she’d probably end up on one of the pleasure planets, doped up to her eyeballs and too out of it to fight the disgusting men pawing at her.

  Taking the translator out of her ear, she straightened and looked at him. She took his hand, turned it palm up and placed the device into it.

  She’d rather not understand a word he was saying when everything he said only hurt her.

  Lying down on the bed, she rolled over so she was facing away from him and curled up holding her chain in her hands.

  He said something that sounded a lot like curse words and then stormed out of the room. She heard the locks on the door slide into place. For someone who said she was free and didn’t belong to anyone, he certainly wanted to keep her captive.

  Closing her eyes, she tried to remember her family and where she’d come from. She did this every time she finally had a chance to rest. It was important to remember her heritage. There were hardly any Terrans left now. Her friends had all been killed in a Vegan attack on the space station they’d lived on with her. She’d been taken into slavery with some others. She screwed her face up, not wanting to remember all the dark times she’d been through since then. She’d never thought she’d escape that last planet. Now she was on a Lyran ship heading away from it, but there was no comfort.

  He was going to ditch her at the first opportunity.

  A slave like her wasn’t good enough for a prince like him.

  He didn’t even want to touch her.

  Was she that repulsive to him?

  It wasn’t long before she’d drifted off to sleep. She only realised she had when she heard a noise and opened her eyes to see that the man had returned. She watched him right the table and chairs, and place a tray of food down on the round table. He held the translator device up and said something before setting it down beside the tray. Why did he care so much about her speaking to him? He was going to drop her off any time now. It made more sense for him to just keep her shut in the room and ignore her.

  He sat down, an impatient look on his face as he stared at a computer pad similar to the one he’d had at the port. He frowned and muttered something. She cursed him for making her want to put the translator back in so she could understand him. Her stomach growled when she looked at the food.

  She’d not seen fresh food in years.

  Slipping off the bed, she padded quietly across the room and stared at the food. There was fruit. Where had he got fruit? Did all the crew on his ship get such luxurious food, or was it his personal supply he was offering to her?

  She sat down, her eyes still fixed on the fruit and her mouth watering as she remembered how delicious the only fruit she’d ever tasted had been. It had been a bruised apple core that she’d found discarded on a space port floor when her family had been travelling to their second home—the last home she’d had.

  This fruit wasn’t bruised. It was perfect and shiny. There were beautiful red quarib berries and rich green polans apples. It was fruit she’d stared at so many times in the shop windows of the ports she’d passed through or been a slave at. She’d never thought she’d get to eat something so luxurious.

  She looked at the man. He paused at his work and gestured for her to eat. She flexed her fingers, grabbed everything she could, and ran across the room to the bed. Curling up in the corner of it furthest from him, she could feel the man’s eyes on her. She brushed the chain dangling from her neck away and clutched the fruit to her chest when he walked over, unwilling to share it now that she had it. She could live for weeks on this much food.

  “Mo kullinso terra yoi erasu.” He smiled at her and held his hand out.

  She looked at the device sitting on the middle of his palm. She thought about swatting it away and then sighed. Taking the device, she pushed it back into her ear.

  “That’s better,” he said with a wider smile. “Isn’t it better when you can understand me?”

  “I’ll never understand you,” she muttered into her food and then bit into one of the apples. It was juicy and sweet. She moaned and bit into it again and again, until her mouth was so full she couldn’t chew.

  He laughed and she scowled at him, making him stop.

  “I’m sorry... I’ve never seen someone eat fruit with such... such... hunger.” His expression changed as he said that last word, concern surfacing in his eyes with a trace of fear. Was he worried that he’d said something wrong?

  He looked her over.

  “I haven’t eaten in almost two weeks, if that’s what you’re trying to figure out.” She ate the remains of the apple and swallowed it down. “You’d eat like this too if you knew what it was like to be hungry. I bet you’ve never been hungry in your life.”

  He frowned at her, a dark look entering his eyes. She knew she was pushing him. He deserved to be pushed. He’d probably lived the pampered life of luxury. He probably didn’t have a clue about the terrible kinds of things she’d been put through. He shifted on the bed and her gaze lowered to his neck. There were several scars streaking down it, from the corner of his jaw to around the back of his neck. The more she looked at him, the more scars became evident. There was one to the side of his right eye, a dark one that said it had been a bad wound when it had happened. Maybe he did know of pain, but no amount of pain could be comparable to the things she’d experienced.

  She scoffed some of the berries to distract herself from her dark thoughts. One of them fell down her top. She dipped her fingers in and went to pull it out, but stopped when she realised that he was watching her. A furtive glance revealed his eyes were fixed on her hand where it was down her flight suit. She drew the berry up slowly, tracing her skin with it and teasing the curve of her left breast. His lips parted.

  Perhaps he did want her. His eyes had said as much when he’d been on top of her and when he’d watched her in the shower.

  “I can fulfil that desire,” she said and his eyes shot up to meet hers.

  “What desire?” he snapped with venom in his voice. She’d flustered him now.

  She smiled and ran the ber
ry a little higher towards her neck before tracing it along her lower lip and then sucking it into her mouth along with her fingers. She sucked them a moment, her eyes never leaving his. His narrowed and darkened again, but this time it was hunger in them, not anger.

  She pulled her fingers free of her mouth with a pop. “That desire.”

  He glared at her and then stared out of the window.

  She leaned back on the bed, intent on getting him to admit that he did want her.

  “Come, Captain,” she whispered with a smile. “You own me after all... you don’t want to inspect the goods? You don’t want one little taste before you drop me off? Your family would never know you’d been with a Terran... I’m clean.”

  His gaze shot to meet hers again. She couldn’t read it now. There were too many conflicting feelings in it. She’d always been good at reading people, she had to be to avoid getting hurt worse than she had been, but he was beyond her capabilities. She’d never met a Lyran before. Perhaps it was his species and not just him.

  She picked up another berry and caressed her breasts with it. “You don’t want a taste?”

  He frowned at her and took a deep breath. She’d never seen someone look so offended before.

  “I have to do your bidding... I’m yours... you own me.”

  He stood sharply, his frown intensifying. “Stop saying that!”

  She was taken aback by the force of his words. Earlier he’d said that she wasn’t his, that she wasn’t a slave anymore.

  “Does it offend you that you own me... that you can do anything with me that pleases you? I’m yours to command, Captain Lyra II. You won’t touch me but I’m not stupid... I know you want to... so why don’t you?”

  He paced across the room, keeping his back to her. “You are not my property. You belong to no one but yourself. You are free.”

  “You didn’t answer my questions.” She stood and followed him across the room.

  “I... it does offend me that someone thought to make you a slave and you believe you are one still.”

  She moved around him until he was facing her. He looked at her, right into her eyes. There was so much passion in them.

  “And my other question?” she said, cocking her head to one side.

  He paused, drew a deep breath, and then whispered, “Because it is wrong.”

  She would’ve laughed at that but he was so serious and solemn. She looked at him a moment, studying his expression and his eyes. He really did believe that it was wrong of him to want her.

  “Because I’m a slave, or because I’m a Terran?” she said and moved closer to him. She wanted to know which it was. Something was holding him back and she was determined to find out what it was. Disgust? Fear? Loathing? It had to be something other than self-control.

  “You’re not a slave,” he said. “You’re free.”

  She grabbed the chain attached to her collar, raised it up so he noticed it and then gave it a sharp tug. “I’m not free!”

  “Why haven’t you taken that off?” he said with a concerned frown.

  She laughed now. “I can’t. When the Sekarian handed you the chain, the collar took your DNA imprint. Only you can remove it because you own me.”

  The muscles in his jaw tensed at those last three words. He really was repulsed by the idea that he owned her. Most men in the universe would have been pleased. They would have been abusing her by now. Not this man though. All he wanted to do was free her. He thought he was doing that by setting her down on some random planet. He really was ignorant to the way the universe worked. From the moment he ditched her, it would be just a matter of time before someone else caught her and put her back into slavery. She was valuable. He didn’t realise that.

  His fingers brushed hers as he took the chain from her and she stood mute as he slid his other hand around the side of the collar and flicked the latches. A tremendous sensation of freedom and happiness filled her when the weight of the thick leather and steel collar disappeared from around her neck. She looked up into his eyes as he moved closer and the feelings inside her altered when he stroked her neck and the scars she knew were there.

  He was so close.

  Her eyes fell to his mouth and her lips parted.

  She wanted to kiss him.

  Just a brief kiss of thanks for setting her free.

  That’s all it was.

  Her eyes met his again.

  She pressed her hands into his chest to steady herself, tiptoed, and closed her eyes as her lips touched his. It was as brief as she intended, nothing more than a brushing of lips. She set back on her heels and took her hands away. He was staring at her now with fire in his dark eyes. His breathing was as heavy as her own.

  “Will you kiss me now I’m not a slave,” she whispered, holding his gaze and trying to read him. “Or is it because I’m a Terran?”

  Her eyes widened when he grabbed her waist and dragged her up against his hard body. His lips crushed hers in a passionate kiss that made her heart skip a beat. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, wanting to feel his strength and his heat. Before, she’d wanted him to kiss her so she could prove to him that he wanted her. Now, she just wanted him to kiss her.

  His tongue brushed hers as she licked his lips and she held back a moan when his hands, rough and strong, coursed up her back and pulled her harder against him. She was out of her mind. He kissed across her jaw, his breath hot and heavy in her ear. She decided that she didn’t care. So what if she was giving him the impression that he could have her if he wanted her.

  He could.

  Something about him made it impossible for her to deny him. She wanted him. She’d wanted him from the second he’d touched her in that dirty port town.

  Something buzzed.

  Balt rolled his eyes and released the woman. In Iskara’s name, what was he thinking? She wasn’t his slave or his whore, but he was treating her as though she was. He stepped away from her and ran a hand over his hair.

  “What is it?” he said to the quiet room filled only with their dual panting.

  Damn he wanted to kiss her again. He’d never tasted anything as sweet and tempting.

  She looked confused.

  “Bridge to Captain Lyra II, we have company.” The voice crackled over the intercom panel beside the door. The woman looked less confused.

  “Company?” he said and turned towards the door. His heart jumped into his throat. They couldn’t have caught up with them so quickly.

  “The Minervans want the woman.”

  Balt frowned over his shoulder at her. She looked frightened now. They wanted her? Why?

  He grabbed her arm and dragged her along behind him as he walked to the bridge. The Minervans usually fired first and asked questions later. Why was today so different? What did they want with the woman? Was she so important that they wouldn’t risk firing upon them? They attacked his ship regardless of himself being onboard. Did they value her more than him?

  The door to the bridge slid open with a swish and then closed behind them.

  “On screen,” he said to the communications officer.

  The middle glass window of the bridge darkened and then the Minervan appeared on it.

  “Captain Lyra II.” The Minervan smiled winsomely. It was the man from the port. “Give me the girl and your ship won’t be harmed.”

  Balt glared at him and walked forward with the woman. His hand tightened around her wrist when she tried to get away.