Dark Prince (17 page)

She looked at his obvious arousal. The man-cat smiled. It was a dark and lecherous expression, as he decided to take her invitation.

"You keep quiet." His tone filled with the sound of rolling gravel.

Olena pretend to shiver, letting an excited smile come to her. With feigned excitement, she said, "Oh, yes, master."

A low growl sounded in the man’s throat. Olena pretended to shiver in delight. Her eyes rounded as the man’s hairy fingers reached for her breast. Pulling with all her strength, she jumped off the ground. Just as she wrapped her legs around the unsuspecting man’s head, she saw a movement in the corner of her eyes.

Zoran darted forward, prompting the others to do the same. He watched Yusef’s bride wrap her long legs around the Var’s neck and twist her body around with a violent jerk. A loud snap resounded as his neck broke.

Before he died, the man growled in surprise waking the others. His fanged mouth opened and his tooth dug into Olena’s thigh as he fell. She screeched in surprise at the pain. The other three lunged to their feet, partially shifted into upright cats, their stances ready for battle.

Olena trembled as three dragons met the three cats. There was a slashing of swords and claws, a gruesome melody of roars and growls. Ignoring her bloody leg, Olena tried to swing up to grab the branch. If she could just get her feet over the edge, she might be able to crawl off the end. The branch was angled up and she couldn’t get enough leverage. That was why she’d needed Brouse. If the Draig hadn’t of interrupted her, she would’ve used the dead man’s shoulders, pushing up as he fell. She kicked viciously at the truck of the tree, swinging high only to crash her back into the trunk with a bruising thud.

After Olena’s body crashed a third time, she was too dazed to try again. Looking over, she saw one of the Draig standing by her side, watching her in curiosity. She would have sworn he smiled at her with his rough, dragon face. Olena glared back. "Are you done staring? Get me down already, dragon!"

Instantly, his sword sung through the air, slashing through her binds. The breeze of the blade flew past her hands. If his aim had been off, she’d have lost her fingers. Without flinching, she nodded her thanks and shook her wrists free.

Olena lifted her hand out to him. "Your sword."

The Draig only smiled at her, lifting the tip of the weapon to the ending battle. The Draigs had conquered the Var, slaughtering them in a most honorable display of fury. Barely out of breath, the victorious dragons turned to her. They were covered with blood.

To their amazement, she placed her hands firmly on her hips. "What do you think you are doing? I had this under control."

The Draigs looked at each other and then back at the outraged woman standing half-naked before them. Her emerald eyes sparkled with a fire that did her red locks proud.

"Why isn’t Yusef with you?" Olena demanded, studying their shifted faces. Though the words were hard, they all sensed the vulnerable light in her eyes when she said their brother’s name. Her bravery wavered. "Where is Yusef? He’s hurt, isn’t he?"

One by one the brothers shifted to their human form. Olena didn’t recognize them. Hands on hips, she stared each one of them down, unafraid. The three brothers had never seen such a fiery display--or such an ungrateful woman.

"Do you think one of you could at least give me a shirt?" she asked, dryly. "Maybe then you could stop staring at my breasts long enough to answer me."

Zoran took off his overtunic and tossed it to her. She slipped it over her head, not caring that it was splattered with the blood of battle.

"Who are you?" she asked, as her head poked out of the top. It was still warm from Zoran’s body. The sleeves fell past her hands.

"I am Zoran," Zoran answered shortly, prompting each brother to answer in turn.

"Olek."

"Ualan."

"You knew we were not Yusef?" Zoran questioned in admiration.

"Of course I knew. I know what my husband looks like. I only have one of them, you know." Olena shook her head, eyeing him as if he were daft.

The brothers grinned, seeing that their new sister definitely had fire. It amazed them that she could tell them apart in Draig. Many wives complained that their husbands all looked alike when they shifted--at least for the first seventy five years until they grew used to it. They could instantly see how Yusef had his hands full these past weeks. With her cutting tone, it was a wonder the woman only got chastisement.

"Where is Yusef?" Olena was unmoved by their smiles of admiration. She didn’t think she would feel completely safe until she saw him again. Not that she cared, she told herself. He’d saved her life and she owed him one was all. She would never admit it, but her heart was stuck in her throat, refusing to beat until she heard that Yusef was safe. "Who are you to him?"

"We are his brothers," Olek answered.

"Brothers," she repeated, vaguely remembering someone saying he had them. She eyed them, not readily seeing her dark husband’s looks in their lighter features.

"And I am his father," the Draig behind her said. He had been so quiet Olena had forgotten he was there. Spinning around, she looked Yusef’s father over.

"Wait." She paled. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

The men looked at each other confused.

Olena pointed at Ualan. She wobbled slightly on her feet, her leg throbbing where Brouse’s fang had cut her. "You’re a Prince. You punched Agro at the Breeding Festival. He told me."

Ualan narrowed his eyes and curtly nodded.

"And you," she said turning an accusatory eye to Yusef’s father, "are the King."

The man nodded to confirm. He too dared to smile at her.

"I married a Prince?" Olena swayed.

The sheer look of horror on her face was priceless. She had shown great bravery in fighting the Var and hadn’t even flinched at their shifting. But now, as she found out she was a Princess, she suddenly looked like she was going to be violently ill.

Feeling lightheaded, Olena looked down and lifted her borrowed tunic to see her bleeding leg. Her eyes rolling in her head, she grumbled, "Oh, great. Not again."

Olena collapsed the ground, unconscious. Zoran grinned, chuckling as he hit Olek in the chest with the back of his hand. Olek flinched. Walking away, Zoran ordered the youngest brother over his shoulder, "You get her, Olek. I don’t want to be the one holding her when she wakes up."

Ualan and Llyr laughed, moving to follow Zoran. Olek grimaced, looking at the red-headed wood sprite lying on the ground. Cursing under his breath, he went to pick her up.

Chapter Twelve

"Hold, woman!"

Zoran and Ualan broke into laughter. King Llyr watched, amused. Olek was holding his side where Olena had tried to elbow him off his ceffyl. Gripping the center horn of his mount, Olek pulled himself back up behind the beast’s bare shoulders, only this time he was careful not to touch the fiery woman in front of him.

Olena flinched, blinking herself awake ready for a fight. It took her a moment to realize she was on the back of a mount, riding before Prince Olek. She relaxed her tense arm, much to the relief of the other rider.

"Don’t call me woman," Olena said under her breath, shooting all of them a dark glare. "My name is Olena."

The ceffyl’s wide back shifted low at the weight of their movement, used to the rough handling. Its fanged mouth darted open with a hiss of its long tongue.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as if nothing happened.

"Good morning to you too, Princess Olena." Olek rubbed his stomach. How he missed his gentle Nadja at that moment. He was more than ready to rid himself of Yusef’s hellion of a bride.

Olena grimaced at the name and Olek felt somewhat vindicated.

"Home," Ualan stated in answer to her question.

"But?" Olena saw the large mountain palace looming before them. Twisting around, she pointed behind them. "I live down there."

"Not anymore," the King decreed in a royal tone. "The Var smashed all the windows. Besides, the Outpost is no place for a lady right now. It’s not safe. You will be better off in the protection of the castle."

"First of all, I’m not a lady and I can protect myself," Olena said.

Llyr gaped in surprise that she would dare to question a royal decree. Not even his outspoken sons did that--well, at least not often. The woman’s lips pressed harshly, as if she was the one in control of all of them.

"Second," she continued. "I’ve slept in worse places and a little broken glass is nothing. And third, by Var do you mean the fur ball gang back there?"

Olek chuckled. She ignored him, expectantly watching the King.

"They are the Var," Llyr conceded.

"I’m not scared of them. If Yusef hadn’t left me tied to the bed…" she didn’t even pause when the King coughed uncomfortably,"…I never would have been taken."

The men exchanged looks. The Var who’d been sent after her were hardly a true showing of their enemy’s best warriors.

"I’ve had time to study them. They would be easy to defeat," Olena announced, with a confident nod. "So, take me back to the Outpost. I’ll take my chances there with Yusef."

Olena didn’t want to go to the castle, despite her pirate instincts telling her it would give her thieving nature rich rewards. As a Princess, they would be watching her very closely. They would expect her to act a certain, civilized way. She couldn’t do it. The idea of trying petrified her, though she didn’t readily admit it to herself.

Besides, how exactly would the crew find her if she were locked away in a castle, being protected? She didn’t want them to go up against the Draig army to rescue her. They would possibly be slaughtered if they came unprepared for it. Never in a million years would the crew think she’d married a Prince.

"Yusef is at the palace," Zoran said.

Olena turned to the large warrior in disbelief. "What? That knight is lounging at the palace while I … ooooh!"

Olena shook her head in anger and moved away. Her dark look said more than her growling tone ever could. The brothers shared a frown.

The traveling party made it to the small village, riding through the center street. Olena lifted her head proudly and none of them spoke. People came out of their houses and shops to watch them. Young boys waved at the passing Princes, some cheered and shouted. They all pointed in excitement to see their blood stained clothing. The Princes waved back solemnly, acknowledging them.

A courtyard was before the hidden fortress. From the ground, because of the angle, she couldn’t see the windows or balconies within the mountain’s sides. Once they had passed the villagers and were making the climb up the side of the mountain base the front of the castle, the King stated, "Yusef was stabbed."

Olena spun around in surprise to stare at him. Olek stopped the ceffyl near the front gate. Her face paled. Olek swung down, lifting a hand to her to help her from the mount. Olena ignored him, jumping off the other side on her own. Her sore leg wobbled. She looked down at it, having forgotten completely that she’d been injured. The wound was roughly bandaged and didn’t bleed.

"What do you mean he was stabbed?" She gave the men a hard loom. "He was in Draig, wasn’t he? So he’s fine. He was protected by that thick skin of his."

The brothers exchanged looks. The wound in her leg tingled now that she put pressure on it. Her hands shook and she clenched them into fists to hide the weakness.

"He was attacked from behind and stabbed in the back," Zoran stated. He tossed his mount’s reins to Ualan and Olek took his father’s. The two Princes began walking the ceffyls to the stables, leaving the other two men to explain. "He didn’t have time to shift."

Olena’s heart nearly stopped beating. The anguish she felt was worse than any injury she’d ever known. Her eyes teared. She felt as if her whole body was being sucked into an abyss. "He is dead?"

"No," the King said, he took a step forward, ready to catch the swaying woman. Olena took a deep breath, glaring at his hand and stepping away from his touch. Her face turned to them, hardening as she waited for the rest of his answer. "He’s in the medical ward. He’s alive, but he is in bad condition and unconscious. The doctors say they are hopeful, but his life is still in danger."

"Take me to him." Olena’s limbs stopped quivering by mere force of her will. She might not want to stay as Yusef’s Princess, but she definitely couldn’t stand to see him dead. He had saved her life. It was time to repay the favor. Whatever it took, she would make sure he lived.

* * * *

Olena stood frozen in the entryway to the medical ward. There was a row of large empty beds along one wall and a reception desk by the other along with rows of glass cases. In the back were two private rooms and an operating room. To her distress, lying on one of the beds was Yusef. He was as still as a corpse, his naturally dark complexion nearly as pale as one. His eyes were closed, purpling around the sides of his lids. His handsome lips were edged with an eerie blue.

Her heart sank. Pressing her lips tightly together, she refused to cry.

As Zoran and the King led her to the medical wing, Olena didn’t take in her surroundings. Her mind worked furiously with the lingering fear that Yusef might not be alive, that he might have died while they came for her. Damn her stubborn pride. If she would’ve just relented and said she was his wife, he would’ve taken her with him to the palace and she would’ve been able to protect him from whoever did this. Seeing his chest rise in a shallow breath, Olena could relax enough to breathe. She gave nothing away, as she studied her fallen husband.

Queen Mede was by her son’s side, her face drawn. If she had any lingering doubts about who he was, they were squelched the moment she saw Mede. Olena stiffly nodded to the woman, before taking a step towards Yusef.

With so many eyes on her, she grew anxious, knowing they watched to see how she would react. How was she supposed to react? Did they expect her to cry and scream? Did they expect her throw herself into a womanly frenzy? She wasn’t that type of woman. She didn’t show weakness to anyone.