Sons of Lyra: Slave Princess

Sons of Lyra:
Slave Princess

Captain Lyra
II, known as Balt to his family, is one of the famed sons of Lyra,
the handsome princes with passionate hearts that every girl in the
galaxy wants to catch. The second eldest son, he’s content with the
freedom and adventure that life in deep space and the Lyran
Imperial Army offers him. What he isn’t content with is the current
situation he’s found himself in. Not only has he been forced to
stop at a backwater port for supplies, but he’s leaving with more
than he expected!

Kayla is a
slave but can still vaguely recall what it had been like to be
free. It’s something she believes that she’ll never taste again,
and when she finds herself handed over like the piece of property
she is to a complete stranger, a Lyran prince no less, she’s
convinced her life is about to get a lot worse. Taken onboard his
ship, she quickly finds herself torn between fulfilling a promise
she made to her friends when she was young, and falling for his
chivalry and good looks.

Balt, not
wanting a woman as his slave and not wanting to become the laughing
stock of the admirals, intends to dump Kayla at the first decent
planet he comes across, but as he starts to learn more about her,
he finds it harder to fight his growing attraction to her. A
passionate kiss from her only makes things worse. When Minervan
mercenaries demand he hand her over, he discovers her true heritage
and realises that things are more complicated than he’d
believed.

Will Balt let
her go, sending her into a life as a pleasure whore for the highest
bidder, or will he fight to protect her? Will Kayla take revenge
for her people, the Terrans, who were almost exterminated when Lyra
destroyed the Earth system? Can love between a prince and an
enslaved princess ever have a fairytale ending?

Sons of Lyra:
Slave Princess

Felicity
Heaton

Smashwords
Edition

Copyright 2008
by Felicity Heaton

All rights reserved. No
part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without written permission from the author, except for the
inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

****

Sons of Lyra:
Slave Princess

Two fingers rested on the
muzzle of his laser pistol. His other hand held the inventory pad,
thumb cycling through the screen of items they needed while the
Sekarian trader who owned the store did his best attempt at
flattery. He didn’t listen to anything he had to say. All he wanted
to do was get what they needed and get out.

He hated these backwater
space ports but his ship, the Namrus-Lyra, needed supplies and it
was too far to an imperial planet. His fingers tensed against the
gun when something clattered to the dirty dark floor nearby and he
shot around to see what had happened. A young woman went to pick up
the items she’d dropped and then curled up into a tight ball with
her hands over her head. His eyes widened when he realised that the
man had left him and was heading over to her. His fingers locked
around his pistol. Before the man had a chance to use the
shock-stick on the woman, he’d pressed the muzzle of the pistol
against the side of his ugly blue head.

“
Leave her be
or we’re through doing business,” he whispered, deadly and serious.
He wasn’t about to stand by and let a man beat a defenceless woman
because she’d dropped something.

He really hated these
backwater ports. They had no manners or breeding.

The man smiled and slipped
the stick back into its holster. He babbled on about the lack of
good hands in the port and other things that he didn’t bother
listening to. His concern was wholly with the woman. Bending over,
he caught her around the upper arm and hauled her to her
feet.

She immediately turned her
face away from him, gathered the things she’d dropped, and hurried
off.

Not exactly the
appreciative response he’d expected. He’d saved her from a beating
after all. She could have at least shown a little thanks. A smile
would have done.

He finished checking off
the inventory while the man continued to talk about supplies. A
high pitched whine in his ear and a fizzing noise made him flinch.
He tugged the translator out and glared at it. A thin column of
smoke was coming out of the small sky blue device. He removed the
secondary device from his throat. Without the translator working to
detect the language being spoken to him, the voice alteration
system wouldn’t work—it wouldn’t be able to change what he was
saying into the appropriate language.

The man continued to talk.
He could only pick up the occasional word. A cursory glance around
him revealed that none of his crewmen had their translators on them
and he knew none of them could speak Sekarian. He frowned as he
listened hard, trying to catch the few words he’d learned during
his tutelage on Lyra Prime. He wished his parents had let him have
the memory injection he’d wanted for his twenty-first birthday. The
knowledge of all those languages would have made his life a lot
easier.

He tossed the broken
translator and voice alteration device over his shoulder. There was
a scuffle but he didn’t look around. Lyran technology even in its
broken state was worth a lot to the people who lived in places like
this.

The man grinned at him,
revealing a double set of broken and black teeth. Sekarian males
really were a vulgar species—thin blue skin, rolls of fat, matted
black hair and the worst hygiene he’d ever come across. He’d hate
to see their women. He swallowed and smiled, taking the inventory
pad back but never taking his hand off his pistol. The man gestured
towards something and he looked across the cluttered low-lit room
full of ship parts to see the woman he’d helped stand. The man said
something with an ever-widening smile. He didn’t understand a word
of it. He smiled and nodded, wanting to get away and presuming the
man was saying something about the fact he’d been kind enough to
spare her a beating.

He handed the man two gold
Lynans and then walked away, signalling for his men to join him.
The man grabbed his arm. He turned on the spot with his pistol
raised, a frown marrying his dark eyebrows. The man shook his head
and said something. He cursed the broken translator. Did he want
more money? He went to put his hand into the pouch at his waist to
get more but then stopped when the man left him. He holstered his
pistol and watched in fascination as the Sekarian grabbed the
woman’s arm and dragged her over. She struggled, whimpering and
trying to prise the man’s fingers off her.

When the man stopped in
front of him with the woman, he didn’t know what to do or say. It
definitely wasn’t more money he wanted. He looked around him again,
desperate to find one of his crew that could understand what was
happening and wanting nothing more than to get back on the ship as
quickly as possible. All of his crew had gone off with the
supplies, leaving him alone to deal with the shop owner.

“
I don’t
understand,” he said.

The man grinned and lifted
the woman’s arms, prodding her curved sides and toned stomach. He
frowned when the man squeezed the woman’s breasts and the woman
hung her head forward and tried to turn away, as though ashamed.
The man muttered something and grabbed her jaw, forcing her head
up. She looked at him with emerald eyes rimmed with long dark
lashes. They would have been beautiful had there not been so much
fear and disgust in them. The man squeezed his fingers into her
cheeks, making her open her mouth. He gestured lewdly towards his
crotch and the woman snapped out of his grip. The man grabbed her
by her hair and dragged her back to him.

He’d had about enough of
this. It was sickening to see this man parading the woman as though
she was nothing but flesh for pleasure or profit. His hand went to
his pistol.

“
I wouldn’t do
that if I were you, Captain Lyra II.”

He turned sharply to face
the newcomer. A Minervan mercenary. It was easy to recognise one.
The black and silver flight suit and malicious glint in the man’s
all-black eyes gave him away. His hand locked tight around his
pistol but he didn’t draw it. The Minervan man grinned at him,
exposing the sharpened points of his glistening white teeth. If it
weren’t for such a disgusting habit as that, the Minervans would
have been comparable to Lyrans in their beauty.

He’d hoped that no one
would know him here. His heart thumped hard against his chest while
he waited to see what would happen. The Minervan mercenaries loved
nothing more than trying to kidnap him or his brothers. The ransom
his parents, the king and queen of Lyra, would pay for their safe
return would set them up as one of the foremost powers in the
galaxy. They knew this and they were intent on getting their hands
on the money one way or another. Not even the Minervan military
were above attempting to kidnap them at times.

A few of his crew members
returned, their guns instantly locked on the Minervan.

The Minervan smiled. “I’m
not here to fight. I am here to amuse myself. My ship is in no
state to battle yours.”

“
Amuse yourself
how?” he said.

“
With your
ignorance,” the Minervan said.

The Sekarian trader
babbled something and his attention was back with him. The trader
cupped the woman’s crotch and she whimpered and tried to escape
him. He turned his gun on the trader, torn between protecting
himself and protecting her.

“
I said I
wouldn’t do that... all that education must have gone to waste on
you.” There was a laugh in the Minervan’s tone.

He’d learnt enough about
the universe on Lyra Prime to spend years practicing the Minervan
language so he’d never be in a situation with one where he didn’t
know what was going on.

“
Why not?” he
said.

The Minervan laughed and
turned away. “Because you own her. The little whore is yours now.
Another time, Captain Lyra II.”

He stared at the woman. He
owned her? When he got back to the ship, he was going to write an
angry letter to the scientific institute on Lyra Prime. It was time
they made him a translator that didn’t break after barely a week’s
use.

“
Captain, we
must leave.” The crewman nearest him gestured in the direction of
the ship.

He continued to stare at
the girl. The Sekarian grabbed the chain attached to the collar
around her throat and held it around to him. He owned her? Had the
man offered her along with the supplies? Did he think he wanted a
pleasure slave?

He didn’t.

The woman lowered her head
so her matted long jet black hair covered her face. Her arms
wrapped around herself. She looked so incredibly small and hurt.
His eyes traced the numerous pale scars on her dirty flesh. He
couldn’t leave her here. The Sekarian would probably kill her if he
did.

He took the chain, bowed
stiffly to the man, and then turned towards the docks. He kept the
chain tight at first, dragging her along with him at a swift pace,
and then slowed once he was out of sight of the Sekarian. The chain
slackened and he looked back at the woman. She was walking behind
him, her head bowed and air subservient. He hadn’t realised just
how little clothing she was wearing. Nothing more than thin scraps
of material covered her crotch and breasts. He wasn’t going to
enjoy walking onboard his ship with her. The scientific institute
were going to get a very angry letter.

He ignored the jeers and
wolf whistles of his crew as he walked up the ramp of his ship and
through the corridors. A tinny echo followed him as he stormed
towards the rear of the ship, his boots heavy on the black metal
walkway. He opened a door at the end and went to enter.

The chain tightened and he
turned to see the woman had braced her bare feet and hands against
the doorway. He walked back to her. She gave him a fearful look and
then her eyes flickered to the room. He looked at it, at the point
where her eyes had darted to. The bed. When he looked back at her,
she was shaking her head, spilling tears onto her
cheeks.

“
No... no...
that’s not why I brought you here,” he said but she continued to
shake her head.