The Barbarian Prince (20 page)

"Stop, brother."

Ualan blinked, dropping his hand as he tuned to Olek’s knowing smile.

"Before the whole hall smells her desire," Olek added, so the brides couldn’t understand. Nadja looked at him quizzically, but hastily turned away before he saw her watching him. "Let it not become one of those celebrations. I have no wish to share."

Ualan smiled and shrugged, unashamed, but properly reined in.

Morrigan’s attention was drawn to a shout of laughter that sounded over the hall. She leaned over to see a little boy sprawled on the floor. Several large warriors watched him from the table, laughing harder when he limped to his feet. One foot turned in slightly and started to drag.

Suddenly, Pia jumped up from the table and rushed to the boy’s side. He seemed surprised to see her standing by him and tried his best to bow before the Princess. It was awkward moving on his foot.

"Leave him be!" ordered Pia to the table of warriors. They quieted to look at her in question.

Pia looked back to her husband who seemed surprised by her outburst. Morrigan watched the interplay quietly, pushing the recorder on her finger out of habit and letting it run.

"What do you want with Hienrich, my lady?" asked a burly man with a beard. "Does he offend you? I will have him removed."

Pia turned red, her blonde hair flying as she spun to glare him down. "He does not!"

There was a commotion and Morrigan couldn’t hear what was being said. She unconsciously leaned closer to Ualan. He glanced at her in surprise before putting his arm around his waist. Then, she heard Pia shout, "Well, I am a Princess and he will be my personal warrior."

"If my lady wishes for a warrior, let us battle for the position. Do not insult us by naming a boy," the burly man said in return. Pia’s husband came down the platform, going after his wife. The warriors gathered around the burly one growled in agreement to the idea and shouts were called for a tournament.

"Do you dare to question a Princess?" began Zoran, Pia’s husband.

"He is my warrior too," yelled Nadja standing. Olek looked at her in amazement, choking on his wine.

"And mine as well," piped in Morrigan, rising to her feet. Her gown fell back down over her leg and she was glad for it.

Ualan merely smiled up at her, not caring. Let his brother Zoran deal with this problem.

"There you have it," said Zoran. Morrigan saw he was trying not to laugh. "You cannot deny the wish of three Princesses. Heinrich is now under royal protection and will be treated according to his new station."

The three Princesses glanced at each other, a silent understanding formed between them. Pia nodded her thanks for their support. The stunned hall picked up its celebration once more.

Morrigan felt Ualan’s hand taking advantage of her standing position, sliding the tips of his fingers near the sensitive back curve of her knee. She quickly sat back down. Ualan flashed an innocent smile.

The feast was cleared and after dinner drinks were poured aplenty. The musicians kept playing. The quiet Yusef strummed a few tunes with them on a guitar looking instrument and proved himself to be quite up to the task. Someone sang in the Qurilixian language. It was a beautiful sounding ballad.

Morrigan noticed that her husband’s race was much freer with their affection than most humanoid cultures. They openly kissed and caressed their lovers as if it were no matter. To her relief, nothing got carried too far.

Ualan spent the better part of his evening trying to obtain feels of his wife under the table. His hands burned with desire, shooting electricity throughout his whole being. He knew that only a few hours separated him from his release. Morrigan shivered despite herself and clamped her legs tightly in irritation when Ualan’s venturing became to bold.

Whispering into her ear, he offered, "If you want me to quell that flame burning in your thighs, I can disappear beneath this table. I would be very pleased to lick the fire from your wet, parted loins."

Morrigan shot him a horrified look and he chuckled loudly. When his laughter subsided, he pulled away to once more settle close to her ear, breathing hotly onto her skin. She tried to push his hand away for the thousandth time. He took her hand in his. With the speed of a striking snake, he brought her fingers to his solid erection and held her hand to him. He smiled around the hall as if nothing was amiss. Morrigan paled, not as stealthy as her waywardly randy husband.

Still leaning close, he forced her fingers to curl around him. He held her hand to him and began to stroke long and slow. Morrigan’s body jerked of its own accord, feeling the size and power of him. His breath caught and became ragged as he quietly let her hear what she was doing to him.

Ardently, his words a low bestial groan of pleasure and approval, he urged, "Or perhaps you could be persuaded beneath the table to tend to me."

Morrigan gasped, too weak to pull away at the moment, as she was made to stroke him over the material of his breeches. Emboldened by the smell of her response, Ualan flicked the tie strings holding his pants together and moved her hand to touch directly onto his fiery arousal. The danger of it excited her in a way she had not thought possible and she did not resist as much as she should have.

"I would love to feel the soft suckling of those sweet lips once again," he implored her. His breath hit her earlobe and it was as if he nibbled it without touching.

Morrigan flamed in embarrassment and roughly jerked her fingers from him.

"Ah," he sighed in disappointment. Really, he had been toying with her. However, if she had wanted to try and get away with his naughty plans he would have wholeheartedly agreed, despite the unfavorable circumstances and the unaware crowd. With disappointment heavy in his words, he shrugged, "Tonight then."

Morrigan spied a new goblet placed near her empty one the table, full of a yellowish liquid. Grabbing it up without thought, she gulped the sweet contents down. Instantly it made her head buzz and she was happy for it.

Observing Zoran escorting his wife to the floor for a dance, Ualan leaned in to ask Morrigan, "Would you like to--?"

"Try it and I will have your head," she growled in return.

Ualan blinked in amazement, but laughed when he realized she thought he meant to propose they have sex right there on the table. He let silence fall between them once more.

"King Llyr."

Morrigan turned to see one of the blonde Vars standing below the table. As he bowed, she could detect the pattern of a tiger on his chest. She frowned, trying to get a picture of it.

Morrigan couldn’t understand his words, but Ualan could and he listened intently.

"Many blessings on your unions," said the stranger. "May your reign be long."

"As may yours, King Attor," returned the Draig ruler, standing to show a respect that did not reflect wholeheartedly in his eyes.

Morrigan shivered. The blonde Var shot her a heated, sidelong glance. He bowed once more and left, his band of troops behind him.

"What was that all about?" she leaned forward, her curiosity momentarily getting the best of her anger.

"Politics," uttered Ualan darkly, turning to keep his eyes on the Vars. Some of his humor faded as he suspiciously watched the man. Prince Yusef passed his instrument off to its owner and followed quietly behind the departing men.

* * * *

Morrigan felt terrible when walking home with Mirox. Her stomach churned and she was sweating profusely. Ualan had to oversee some urgent royal matter of the court with his father and had sent his man ahead to escort her. Mirox said nothing, respecting Lady Morrigan’s quiet. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this night would mean for the couple. They had all seen well the heated way they Prince and Princess looked at each other all night.

Once alone, Morrigan stumbled to the bathroom. She was nervous about her night with Ualan. Her heart beat wearily within her. He was so bold. What would he expect of her? She couldn’t even repeat some of the things he said to her with his firm lips and bold tongue.

Shivering, she wondered if every bride was this nauseated when faced with the prospect of bedding a Qurilixian warrior. The chills didn’t stop, but grew by bounds.

"It’s not that," she muttered to herself. "It’s because he is royalty. How can I dare to escape royalty? I am truly trapped."

Morrigan tugged the crown off her head and set it on the floor as she fell to the ground. Crawling on her hands and knees across the bathroom’s marble floor, she barely made it to the toilet before she stared to throw up.

Chapter Fourteen

Ualan frowned, his excitement severely dampened by the night’s events. Yusef had been attacked while seeing King Attor out of the keep and off Draig land. His brother was brought to a medical ward where all the latest technology had been employed to save his life. He was in bad condition, unconscious. The doctors said he was still in danger, but they were hopeful for a complete recovery.

Guards were already being sent to gather Yusef’s wife at the Outpost and bring her into the safety of the castle walls. It was clear the attack had been to his back for Yusef had not been given time to shift into his warrior form. If he had, the knife wounds would not have penetrated so deeply beneath the surface.

Coming into his home, Ualan glanced around. Morrigan wasn’t on the couch. With a soft smile, he glanced up the stairs. His body sprung to automatic attention, seeking fulfillment. His mind craved her nearness to chase the demons from his thoughts. There was nothing she could do, but the idea of her gentle hands holding him was comfort in itself.

"Rigan?" he asked, taking the stairs to his bed two a time. To his surprise, she wasn’t there. Frowning, he searched the closets and balcony before rushing to check the downstairs floor. Heading to the kitchen, he stopped, hearing a sound in the bathroom. Smiling, he imagined her in the bath--warm and naked. But as he neared the closed door, his senses pricked. Something was wrong. The door was locked.

Pounding on the door, he called, "Rigan?"

He was answered by a cough, before she moaned: "Go away."

"Rigan, what is it?" Ualan called. Surely she wasn’t this upset about being a Princess. When he felt a wave of pain overtake him, radiating from her body to his, he stiffened. "Open the door."

There was only silence. Cursing, he leaned back, slamming the wood with his shoulder. It splintered in several pieces allowing him to charge forth.

"Rigan…?" The question died on his lips as he stumbled on her discarded crown. She was lying on the floor, spots of yellow patches forming on her overly pale skin. He could see a trail where she had thrown up before she fell helpless on the floor.

His blood ran cold.

"Rigan," he urged, sweeping her up into his arms. He crushed her crown, splintering it under his boot as he rushed from the bathroom. "Rigan, wake up."

She stirred. Her eyes blinked wearily to look at him, and she mumbled, "Cavema…."

She was out.

Ualan ran from his home, pulling her close to his chest as he sprinted to the medical ward. Calling desperately for help before he was even in the door, he saw his brother’s prone body on one of the beds. Soon, Morrigan was whisked from his arms, her near lifeless body flopping as the doctors carried her to a private room in the back. Turning, Ualan growled to the stunned doctor’s wife and yelled, "Get my family."

She ran off to do as he commanded.

Ualan was still staring helplessly at the door leading to where they took Morrigan when the royal family, Princesses and all, were ushered into the room. Only Yusef’s bride was missing. The frightened Princess Pia and Princess Nadja were escorted into a separate room to be tested for poison and the men were left standing alone with the Queen.

"If any in our family die," swore Ualan to his father, his voice deepening into a growl as his face began to harden with a shift. His eyes glowed with a deadly yellow as fangs extended into his mouth. Resembling the beast he could become, he roared, "There will be blood."

* * * *

Morrigan was very ill and did not stop throwing up, even in her sleep. She had been poisoned. Her body fought with a bravery that made her husband swell with pride and in the end she won the battle for her life. The doctors told him that if he hadn’t of found her when he did, she would be dead.

Yusef and Morrigan had both yet to wake up. The family stayed close to their sides, plotting retribution throughout the night as they waited for a sign of life. To their alarm, they discovered Yusef’s bride had been taken. Already their best trackers were going after her kidnappers. As soon as their location was determined, Olek, Zoran, Ualan, and the King would be leaving to reclaim her.

Ualan felt useless waiting around at Morrigan’s side. He was a man of action, not waiting, and it tore him up. He was secretly glad for the mission to find Yusef’s wife, eager to pound out his fear and helplessness. Retribution and rage were the two best outlets for hopelessness a warrior knew.

The servant responsible for serving her the drink had been dealt with. It was soon learned he wasn’t at fault. One of King Attor’s men had distracted him as he was preparing to serve the royal drink. The drink had been meant for the King and Queen, but when King Attor went up to speak, the servant had placed the goblet before Morrigan instead so as not to get in their way. He never realized Princess Morrigan wouldn’t recognize the King’s seal and would indeed take the drink for herself.

Ualan frowned, taking his forehead to Morrigan’s fingers. If he hadn’t embarrassed her, she would never have taken the drink. But he also knew that, if it had been his parents, they would have died instantly. The poison worked slower on humans.

"Mm," came a light moan. Ualan felt a hand lift from under him to stroke back his hair. "Hey."

Morrigan’s voice was cracked. Ualan’s head shot up to stare at her. His eyes were sunken into the depths of his face. He had not eaten and had barely left her side. He had gone once to meet with his family and once to bathe and retrieve his wife a change of clothes so she didn’t have to sleep in a vomit-stained dress.