Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (53 page)

D
ark Prince (Dragon Lords
) © copyright 2004 - 2015 by Michelle M. Pillow

Previously Titled: The Dark Prince (Dragon Lords)

10
^th
Anniversary Edition, Third Electronic Printing June 2014, The Raven books

Second Electronic Printing August 2010, The Raven Books

First Electronic November 2004

Cover art by Ravven © Copyright 2015

ISBN 978-1-62501-086-5

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

All books copyrighted to the author and may not be resold or given away without written permission from the author, Michelle M. Pillow.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.

O
ut of the fire
…

Intergalactic thief, Olena Leyton is one of the best space pirates in history. Sailing the high skies in search of adventure is in her blood. When her crew is scattered in a run from the law and her ship explodes into a ball of flames, the injured Olena is forced to find sanctuary on a bride procurement ship. Posing as a blushing ‘mail-order’ bride on the primitive planet of Qurilixen to elude the bounty hunters pursuing her is a necessity of circumstance. But, being a bride isn’t something this pirate takes seriously.

I
nto the flames
…

Dragon-shifting Prince Yusef leads a simple life away from the palace. He knows from the first moment he sees his fiery temptress that he will possess her and make her his mate for all time. The prince soon learns that playing with fire will always leave a man burned. However, with passions that surge as powerful as theirs, he is not willing to give up his bride without a fight.

T
o JRA
, for making me laugh, for smiling and nodding at my crazy ideas, for getting my jokes, and for agreeing to build me a spaceship. You might not remember that last one, but it happened. You agreed to it. Trust me.

O
lena Leyton’s
calculating eyes shot hot sparks of angry fire, as she met her reflection in a broken piece of glass on the ground. A drop of blood splattered over her right eye. She grimaced in annoyance and pressed her fingers to the seeping wound in her arm. The black spandex of her top had been ripped. She cursed. Biting her lip, she felt a chunk of metal embedded deep within her skin. She gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the wound to pry out the jagged strip. Dispassionately, she eyed the metal before dropping it to the ground.

Her arm continued to ooze blood, a little worse than before, but she ignored it. Now was not the time for weakness. She was in the crate storage of some metal space dock. The large open door let in a cooling breeze from outside, making her shiver as it hit the layer of sweat on her skin. Leaning forward, she squinted, trying to read the address label on one of the crates.
X Quadrant, Earthbase 5792461.

X Quadrant!

She let loose a long breath. Her ship really had gone off course. Glancing over the lush alien countryside she’d run three miles through, she took a calming breath. Her heart hammered, more from the sprint than the pain in her arm. Her escape had been too close for comfort.

Vexatious bounty hunters, trying to get back what she rightfully stole. They had shot up her ship, scattered her crew, and now she was stranded in the X Quadrant. Things couldn’t get much worse.

Olena was wrong. With a frown, she watched as an orange ball of fire lit up the distance. She cursed and closed her eyes as she saluted the last breath of her ship. With that kind of beacon, the bounty hunters would be all over this planet like a Ven-5 sand ray on an injured fighter pilot, not to mention the local law enforcement. Wouldn’t they love to get their hands on this little pirate?

“Not going to happen,” Olena grumbled, darkly. She looked around, refusing to give up. She had been in tougher spots than this. Granted, she usually had her crew with her.

Discovering a row of small luxury crafts, and personal transport ships, that had been lined up for pre-flight maintenance, she grinned. Oh, this was almost too easy. She stood and was instantly sorry. Lightheaded, she swayed on her feet and had to concentrate to keep from blacking out.

Olena glanced at her arm. Her blood trickled over her arm pooling onto the floor, staining the black spandex of her pants, and dripping onto her leather boot. She needed a medic, and fast. But, worst of all, she was in no condition to fly. She could very well pass out during the gravity shift of takeoff.

Moving stealthily forward, she peeked through the windows of the personal transports for a first aid kit to tide her over, and the rich people who owned these crafts were always good for a supply of painkillers. Right now she needed both.

Olena found a kit and glanced around to make sure the place was empty. With a swift kick, she smashed in the window and unlocked the transport. Moments later, she had her arm bandaged and a couple pills stuck and dissolving in her dry throat. She tried to swallow them.

“Who’s there?”

Olena froze in her search for a bottle of liquor, and silently cursed. Blasted dock security guards. Why didn’t they find themselves a real job?

Olena edged close to the ground to peek around the side of the transport. The security guard came into view. She cursed again. Her arm was in no shape for self-defense. Looking at her waist, she saw her gun registered empty. She had used all her ammunition to fire her way out of the ship’s metal side. The hatch had been jammed by the ground.

Hearing a rush of feet coming from the other direction, she stiffened. A woman hurried near them, covered with a rich fur cloak from head to foot and laden down with numerous suitcases. As Olena watched, she shifted her bags and pulled the cloak tightly around her, jerking it over her head, as if frightened of the dark and lonely docks at night. Olena smiled. She might not be able to drive, but this rich woman would definitely have her own vehicle.

Olena heard the guard move. He stopped to smile at the rich lady. The woman jolted in mild surprise to see him, but managed a weak nod of acknowledgement in return. The guard appeared to know her, because he waved at her and pointed down the docks. Olena looked in the transport. Seeing a coat, she slid it over her shoulders and buttoned the front to hide her pirating attire. Then, grabbing a hat, she positioned it on her flaming red hair, and tucked the ponytailed locks up beneath it.

Some floral bags had been stowed in the back seat and she took all four of them. Olena loaded them on her shoulders, trying not to flinch at the pain, as she began walking after the cloaked lady. She smiled innocently at the security guard who had forgotten his investigation and was going back toward the monitor room. He waved at her, pointing down the docks in the same direction he had for the other woman. Olena smiled brightly, as if she understood his signal.

She took the plank reserved for first class, again seeing the rich woman next to a uniformed man with a clipboard. The woman’s hood was down, and the brown hair appeared very respectable, pulled back into a bun. Olena squinted, detecting the glittering of diamond earrings on the woman’s ears. Instantly, her mind calculated the worth of them. Oh, she’d love to get her hands on those. It might make this little detour worth it.

Olena pasted a smile on her face as she watched a bunch of women load into the spacecraft, beneath a banner that read,
Galaxy Brides,
in curving script. Carting her new bags, she came forward to stand in line.

“Perfect, Miss—
ah
—Aleksander,” the uniformed man said to the rich woman. “Welcome aboard the flight to your future!”

Olena didn’t pay the woman’s answer any attention as she set her bags down. She turned to dig through her gun belt.

“No, Miss. Galaxy Brides Corporation owes you.” The man answered whatever Miss Aleksander had said.

Olena pulled out the first ID she came across and quickly tugged the coat to cover her weapon. She pushed the stolen luggage closer, kicking it lightly across the floor with her foot. Glancing over her shoulder, she thought she heard air sirens outside the dock. They would be going to investigate the explosion. She could only hope the blast had made her ship unrecognizable.

“I wish to invoke the right of privacy law. If anyone asks, I’m not here,” the rich lady said.

“Police?” the man questioned in surprise, though the idea didn’t seem to concern him. He obviously had a quota to fill and Olena knew these corporations were notorious for looking the other way.

Olena didn’t hear the woman’s answer, but saw the man nod in understanding. She tried to edge closer, taking another peek at the pricy earrings.

“I’ll make a note, Miss. That won’t be a problem.” The man wrote a notation on Miss Aleksander’s file.

“And, by the way, where are we going?” the woman asked, her voice mild and unwavering.

Olena stepped closer. She knew about Galaxy Brides. They were a corporation who peddled marriage to barbarian planets in need of women. Once she had been asked, by a lower breed of humanoids, to shanghai a load of brides. It was one of the few jobs she had turned down. Not even she could take profit from delivering hapless women to men who squirted slime from their…well…yeah.

The worker chuckled. “Most women ask before they come down here. It must be some maniac you are trying to get away from.”

The woman said nothing.

Reigning in his humor, he answered, “You’re heading to Qurilixen, Miss.”

The woman nodded before she walked away, following a droid who carried her bags. Instantly, Olena turned her sweetest smile on the uniformed worker. He grinned in response.

“Hi,” she murmured in a sultry vixen’s tone that she knew drove men to instant distraction. Pouting her lips, she said, “Oh, these bags are so heavy. I never thought I would get them all the way up the dock by myself.”

“Are you here as a last minute replacement?” the man inquired, his breathing quickened at the look she gave him. He took her bags and moved them forward.

“Oh, thank you,” she gushed with feigned innocence. “I’m so glad I made it on time. Rick at the office told me it would be all right if I tagged along. This is the flight to Qurilixen, isn’t it? I didn’t get lost again?”

“Yes, Miss. I know Rick,” the worker lied. “Fine man.”

“Why yes, he is,” Olena giggled with a toss of her hand and a playful bat of her eyelashes.

“Sign here,” he said, handing over the clipboard. “We are several girls short, so they’ll be more than happy to have you. Your health screenings will be done in flight. You’ll have room 209 on platform two. It’s the one all the way to the back, left side. Ship orientation is tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Earthtime.”

“That is perfect,” she declared, as she set her ID on top of the clipboard. To her surprise, it was her real name. Out of all the fake IDs to choose from what were the odds? Since it was too late to grab an alias, she signed her name with flourish.

The man looked at the ID and handed it back. “Here you go, Miss.”

“Oh, and…” Olena glanced down at the man’s name tag. “Rick said it would be all right if I invoked the right of privacy law. He said just to tell Bernie, and you would personally see to it my privacy isn’t violated.”

“Stalker?” the man asked.

“Oh, is it that obvious?” Olena pouted, trying her best not to laugh at the protective look the guy gave her. She dabbed fake tears from her widened eyes and sniffed.

“No, Miss,” Bernie answered in a self-important tone. He motioned to a droid to pick up her bags for her. “It just seems that there is a lot of that going around lately. The galaxies can be a dangerous place. You’re very lucky to have found a reputable company like ours.”

O
ne month later
…

Olena sighed happily, resting back in the beauty chair in absolute comfort. A droid massaged her feet in the pedicure basin. A second unit rubbed her neck with two robotic hands while its other four did her hair. Looking around the parlor, she had memorized almost every one of the brides’ names. It was an old habit, one that had saved her hide more than a few times.

Besides, what else could she have done during the last month of deep space travel? Plan her future marriage with a barbarian husband? Knit him and their nonexistent children space helmet liners?

No thanks. Not likely. Never going to happen.

The brides prepared for the Breeding Festival which would happen that very night on Qurilixen. The planet had no locally born women because of one of their suns’ blue radiation made the men shoot boy-only sperm. She supposed it was admirable they paid for wives rather than raiding other planets and taking unwilling captives. Then again, kidnapping women could cause the brides’ families to get upset. Aliens would attack the planet for revenge. Intergalactic war would start. People would die. Security measures would be heightened and pirating would get a lot more dangerous.

The mass wedding was held on the one night of darkness on the otherwise sunshiny planet. Apparently, the locals only let the men get married in the dark. Oh, there were so many, many jokes she could tell on that little piece of cultural trivia. How horrible were these guys that they had to hide their faces, and pay for women so desperate they’d marry anything?

Olena had every intention of finding a poor sucker to marry her. What easier way to lay low for a few months as she plotted her escape? Besides, free room and board? Who could resist? Although, the dupe would probably want to have sex with her. It was an annoying detail, but one she wasn’t overly concerned about. She was fairly confident she could lie her way out of any marital duties. If he became too handsy, she’d drug him, or hit him over the head, or start speaking in religious tongues until he ran away terrified.

She couldn’t help wondering what the Qurilixian males must be like—a whole planet of Medieval Old Earth warrior types. From her experience, men who were left in each other’s company for too long tended to lack certain social graces. But, since Olena also lacked certain social graces, this temporary layover might actually be fun.

Smirking, Olena inwardly laughed at the other women onboard the Galaxy Brides’ ship. They were all such dopes, with their high hopes of having a royal marriage and living blissfully ever after—on a primitive planet, with guys too grotesque to be married in daylight. Yeah, like anyone ever found true love at the end of a glowing crystal. What these foolish women would find had nothing to do with love. People loved when it was convenient for them to do so, or when they were getting something out of it.

Olena chuckled, a grin forming on her features. Why else would the Qurilixian men call their wedding ceremony a Breeding Festival? It was so laughably obvious. It had nothing to do with love and everything to do with a planet full of horny males, with no females of their own, who needed to find release. Hell, it was easy to say “I love you” to one of the only women on the entire planet. How else were the poor bastards going to get laid?

Olena took her feet out of the water at the droid’s gentle push and set them on the edge of the basin. She watched the droid stain her toenails with permanent polish.

Maybe, I’ll find a prince and make the entire planet worship at my feet,
Olena mused with a whimsical smile.
Queen Olena has a nice ring to it.

She would never do it. Though it might be fun to play queen, the truth was the wanderlust in her veins would eventually get the better of her. No planet could hold her interest for long. With permanence came responsibility. Pirates tended to stay away from such mature undertakings.

Olena closed her eyes and concentrated. The ship had uploading services, and she’d been able to interface with the specialized software to load planetary information directly into her brain. Though convenient, it took work to actually sort through all the suddenly-gained knowledge.

The words filtered through her mind, “
The fact that the Qurilixian have no women of their own, is why the services of corporations like Galaxy Brides are so invaluable to them. In return, the Qurilixian mine a special ore that is only found in their caves. That ore is a great power source for long-voyaging starships, all but useless to the Qurilixian because they are not known as explorers. For you as brides, this is good news. Your men won’t be leaving for other colonies after the marriage.”