Ulyssa felt Kirill’s breath deepen in sleep. She shivered, staring out over the dimly lit bedroom to the closet door. She knew that the balcony was there, beyond the window. She wondered if she could use it to escape. Never had she just slept beside a man once she’d gotten what she wanted out of him.
Her heart beat fiercely against his warm palm, pounding so hard it kept her awake. But, great sex or no, she would never be a King’s whore. A strange ache built in the pit of her stomach. He was by far the best lover she’d have had.
* * * *
The next morning, Ulyssa stole some clothes from Kirill’s closet and slipped from his house well before dawn. The palace halls were quiet as she made her way. She was still lost, but the idea of being trapped forever within the palace as a mistress stiffened her resolve to escape. She would belong to no man, even if that man was a King.
Chapter Five
Kirill stretched his arms over his head, arching his back against the mattress. With a half smile forming on his lips, he sighed in contentment and reached over to pull the warm female body back into his embrace. He’d slept better than he had in a long time and the nightmares that plagued him since his father’s death were gone. He felt great!
His hand met with the empty expanse of sheets causing the smile to fade from his features. Frowning, one dark eye opened to follow his hand. He rolled on his side to search the bedroom for Ulyssa. She was gone.
“Lyssa,” he murmured lightly, sitting up. His voice was hoarse from sleep and he cleared his throat, only to call louder, “Lyssa?”
Kirill’s body was ready for her, as was evident by the heavy protrusion beneath the sheet. A growl grew steadily in his throat as he leapt out of bed. He frantically checked his closet and balcony, then his home. She had truly left him.
Scratching his naked stomach, he looked down at his erection in disappointment. The knot of stress again came to his shoulders, settling all the way down his spine. His eyes darkened as he strode into the closet. The last thing he needed was his mistress, a woman marked by his very potent scent, roaming alone about the palace declaring that she is unattached. For Kirill had no doubt Ulyssa would insist on trying to leave him. Such scandal wouldn’t bode well for his reign. The Var prided themselves in many things, not the least of which was being able to please a woman in bed. If a King—a man of supposed great power and even greater wisdom—couldn’t keep a woman happy longer than one night… Well, it would be disastrous.
Kirill didn’t want to think about it. He hurriedly dressed in a light tunic and pants. He then slid leather boots over his feet. They reached up his calves. Pulling the shirt laces tight, he walked out of his home.
Once in the hallway, he looked in both directions only to find them empty. “Siren, find Lyssa... uh, make that Ulyssa.”
He only had to wait for a brief moment, before the castle’s mainframe answered in a sultry female voice that dripped of seduction, “No record of an Ulyssa, my lord.”
Kirill grimaced. He wasn’t sure there would be, but it’d been worth a try. Her DNA had yet to be programmed into the castle’s central computer, so it was impossible to track her exact location electronically.
He started to walk away, only to stop. Going back to his home, he rushed to his bedroom and scanned the sheets. He found a strand of red blonde on the pillow and took it. Going back to the hall, he pressed a series of tiles on the circular pattern in the wall. The tiles didn’t move as he touched them. But, as he finished and pulled his hand away, the whole center circle pulled into the wall to reveal a screen.
Pressing a button, he lightly set Ulyssa’s hair into the tray that slid out. Smiling, he said, “Siren, meet Lyssa.”
“Lyssa recorded, my lord,” the computer answered in a tone that dripped honey and almost sounded like a pout. “Security clearance?”
Kirill thought of that and finally said, “Ten.”
“Prisoner class, my lord? Would you like me to notify the guards that she is not in her cell?”
“Ah, no, Siren, better make that a, uh, eight clearance.” Kirill grimaced slightly. She’d have freedom to roam the palace but wouldn’t be able to make it outside the building without him being notified.
“Very good, my lord, Lyssa stored.”
“Now, Siren, find Lyssa for me,” Kirill stated again, pressing a button to retract the computer and return the wall to normal.
“Lyssa is outside the royal office, my lord, and does not appear to be moving. Door sensors are picking up a vibration. The lock is being tampered with. The palace guards have been notified and are en route.”
Kirill took off running in the direction of the royal office before Siren finished. Her voice followed him as he moved down the hall. He frowned. Why would Ulyssa try to go there? Was it possible the woman was a Draig spy? After what King Attor had done to the Draig royal family, he wouldn’t blame them for taking the defensive. But, even if he understood, he couldn’t allow it. He had a duty to protect his people, even if that meant fighting in a war he didn’t personally believe in. If Ulyssa was a spy, the Draig had definitely chosen her well.
Kirill didn’t know why it irritated him to think that she’d only slept with him out of deceit, but it did. He didn’t wish to delve too deeply into the feeling. She was rare, that was all—a mystery, a diversion, a good bed partner.
Well, if he was honest with himself, she was more than just good in bed. She’d been phenomenal. Just thinking of it made him run faster to find her.
“You stupid hairball, get off me!”
Kirill quickly suppressed his grin as he rounded the corner. Falke held Ulyssa tightly in his grasp from behind, as she continued to spout profanities at the great Commander. A dozen soldiers surrounded the pair, appearing confused.
“What? Scared little kitty cat needs all these warriors to help him out? Can’t take out a single girl on his own?” she taunted.
Falke’s eyes looked over Ulyssa’s shoulder to his brother. She jerked up, kicking out at one of the staring guards. He took a step back rather than touch her. The men looked to the King for guidance. Kirill knew they didn’t wish to lay a hand on his mistress without permission.
Falke gave what Kirill knew to be the closest thing he had to a smile and nodded in approval. Kirill grimaced. Trust Falke to approve of a woman acting like a harpy.
Ulyssa’s wide blue eyes landed on him and he felt a spark of electricity shoot through his core. She again wore his clothes. He didn’t like that she took them without permission, but damned if she didn’t look sexy all the same. She shook with a renewed force. Falke tightened his grip. She yelped in pain and instantly stopped struggling.
“Kir—” she began, only to correct herself. “My lord, would you mind telling this oaf of yours to get off me!”
The guards gasped at her hard tone. Falke’s breath caught behind her back. Kirill’s brows furrowed together, as he looked at her in displeasure.
Ulyssa’s eyes darted around at the men. She visibly swallowed only to add, “Ah, please, your royal... highness... sir.”
Kirill sighed and affected a bored, unconcerned pose. His arms crossed over his chest and he looked down his nose at her. “You must forgive her. My little mistress likes to play games.”
The men looked at him expectantly. Ulyssa’s mouth fell open and he rushed on to keep her from talking.
“She so wanted to be hunted as my prey. I couldn’t help but to indulge her whim.” Kirill stepped forward to leisurely run the back of his knuckles over her cheek and down her throat. Her eyes narrowed in warning just as he was about to dip to a breast. He somehow knew she wouldn’t take kindly to being groped in public. A part of him willed his hand to continue, but he was too wise to press his luck. She was being quiet. He wouldn’t give her cause to start screaming.
Kirill felt the jealous eyes of the guards on them. Ulyssa was a beautiful woman and bold enough to fire any Var’s blood. But, the fact that she liked to tease the hunter said much about her wildness betw
een the sheets and this excited them, too. The ancient hunter in them, long suppressed by their societal codes, always drifted beneath the surface waiting for an excuse to play. It was part of the reason they drank nef, to calm the inner beast.
“I should’ve warned her to stay within my section of the palace,” he continued, not holding her gaze for long. He motioned his hand to the guards. “You may go. I’ll reprimand her in private.”
Ulyssa’s heart raced in her chest, more from seeing Kirill than being captured by his brother. She felt his nearness and wanted him again. His hair was handsomely disheveled about his shoulders, making him look wild and incredibly sexy. Her breasts were only too eager to remind her how the silken locks felt brushing against them. To her shame, her nipples puckered against her stolen top. She glanced down briefly and, when she looked back up, Kirill stared at the treacherous little buds.
She quietly watched the guards bow and leave her alone with Falke and Kirill. The mighty King still stared at her chest when she turned back to him and she cleared her throat to get his attention. His dark eyes flashed to hers, glittering with a golden promise. Her stomach fluttered and she couldn’t move. His look said he wanted her. His lips parted as if he could already taste her. There was possession in his eyes, possessiveness over her. She felt him in her head, heard his low voice—a quiet murmur she couldn’t make out. Shivering, she struggled anew.
“Tell your oaf of a brother to let me go!”
Kirill nodded at Falke that it was all right. Falke loosened his hands. Her elbow instantly wrenched back to slam into her captor’s tight midsection. She yelped in pain, catching the elbow to her chest and cradling it. The Commander’s breath caught, but he didn’t double over like she planned.
Tearing away from them, Ulyssa glared accusingly as she rubbed her injured arm. “You’re lucky—”
“Siren, unlock the royal office please,” Kirill interrupted softly.
The door instantly unlatched and swung open. Kirill walked into the royal office, ignoring Ulyssa’s outburst. She growled and stormed in after him. Falke shut the door behind her and left them alone. She wondered if he kept guard.
The royal office was much like the rest of the palace, with the same beautiful tile work on the walls and the same medieval castle feel to the structure. A large barren fireplace was dwarfed by the even larger sidewall. Long banners hung on either side of it. A long, woven rug of red and blue lay on the floor. Its intricate pattern was perhaps the loveliest she’d ever seen. Next to the rug were large chairs, so deep they’d nearly swallow her in comfort if she were to use them. On the opposite wall there was a long, empty stone desk and more chairs, a couch, more rugs and tile patterned designs.
Ulyssa ignored the beauty of the stately room. When she looked at the desk, Kirill was leaning against it, his arms crossed over his chest. A leisurely smile arched on his features and he made no qualms about looking her over with his heated gaze.
“How dare you treat me like that in front of your men!” Ulyssa’s words came out in a hiss and her eyes narrowed to shoot daggers. “I don’t belong to you and I’m most certainly not your mistress! And did you actually say I like being your prey?”
“You are my mistress.” Kirill stayed calm, unmoving, seemingly unaffected.
“I am not,” she hissed. “I belong to no man, especially not some chest-thumping savage King! I’m warning you Kirill, either you let me go or I’ll—”
“Regardless of what you call yourself, you must stay here as my woman.” Kirill sighed. “I marked you last night. All the men smell me on you. Your position in my home is being announced as we speak. Falke will see to that, being as castle security is his duty.”
“Listen,” she broke in, raising her finger at him to emphasize her point, “just because we had some great sex, doesn’t mean you own me or that I’m going to fall over panting at your heels.”
“You really have no choice, Lyssa. My mark binds you to me. I will be able to find you if you run.” Kirill lowered his jaw and gave her a meaningful look. “There is no escape.”
“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 fist 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 don’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 kidnapped 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 to mimic her hard, 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 kidnapped me. Now, all I want is to get back to my campsite. Besides, I could really 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 tried 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 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.
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