Chapter Seven
Long before dawn Rhaegar was awakened by a ship landing outside in the prison yard. The sound of the engines was unmistakable—he’d already witnessed an earlier transport ship arriving and taking off with a load of prisoners since he’d been here in this prison. He figured that this time, they’d come for him and his crew.
He got up to stare out at the ship as it touched down, its lights strobing the yard and making it look like daylight outside. When the ship’s captain finally shut down the engines, Rhaegar turned away and sat back down on the hard Tygerian bed, thinking about his probable fate—though he already knew what was most likely in store for him and his men. Since Davos had been king, piracy had been made a Class 4 offense, punishable by death.
Not ones to waste time on inconsequential things like the prisoner’s rights to an appeal, the Tygerians usually took a condemned prisoner directly from the courtroom after the judge pronounced the sentence to an execution chamber. But not this time—not if he had anything to say about it. He was still intent on escape, but if he saw that wasn’t possible, he would not go meekly to his own death. He’d go kicking and fighting all the way and make sure they had to kill him long before he’d allow himself to be strapped down and put to death. And he’d try to take a few of them with him when he went.
He had lived his life in a certain way, and that had been his choice. But he had never trafficked in drugs or people, had never raped or killed anyone, and if there was any honor among thieves, then Rhaegar thought he might have it. More or less. Anyway, he’d have to say he had no regrets. He and his men had lived life on their own terms, lived hard and had a good time for themselves. They worked hard too, as traders of exotic goods. Rhaegar’s trading concerns had been growing, and it had been a long time since he’d given an order to detain and board any other ships to relieve the captain of his fat purse. He had more legitimate trade now—for example, he had just delivered a shipment of exotic spices to Maricon 4.
He and his men loved what they did, mainly because they hated anyone having authority over them, and while they had, on occasion, admittedly robbed other ships, it was only when they were really desperate for money and they never hurt or killed anyone to get it. That didn’t make him any less a thief, but it did allow him to sleep at night.
Sometimes he wished he had a more settled life—or at least had a family in a safe port somewhere. But he didn’t think he was the kind to ever settle down with just one person. He’d been lucky up to now and the mating urge than plagued his people had never bothered him. Maybe that was because he was only half Lycan.
Although there had been that young Tygerian man, just a few days ago, when all this started…
They had been returning to their home port through a portion of airspace that had a reputation for being dangerous. It was well known—to the pirates anyway—that a wormhole could open in that area unexpectedly and any passing ship could then be caught up and sucked inside the Never Never.
He had no idea where the name had come from, unless it was to warn people that this was a place you Never, Never wanted to go anywhere near. It was far too unpredictable. On some days it was smooth sailing, but at other times, you might find yourself lost forever. It was an area of space all the pirates knew about, but rarely ventured close to because of strange rumors about its dangers. People said if you stayed inside too long or if you went too far, you could be changed into a different person or even disappear altogether. Rhaegar had been just inside the edge of the unpredictable wormhole one time, hiding out from Tygerians, who had resettled on a planet in the area after their planet was made uninhabitable by Alliance forces. He had vowed never to do it again as he had immediately began to become disoriented and felt as if he were fading away. He got out that time as quickly as he could, and this time he had only ventured near it to again avoid detection by a passing Tygerian ship. The Tygerians were becoming a real problem in this sector as they had settled on a nearby planet they called Tveir and now claimed all the space around them as their airspace. They had made it necessary to take a route that was a bit too close to the Never Never, and it always made Rhaegar nervous in the extreme.
They had been minding their own business, returning from Maricon 4, when the Never Never Hole suddenly and without warning opened up beside them and sucked them inside. Rhaegar had fallen on the deck and hit his head, but he had started maneuvers to get them out when they suddenly detected another ship looming up beside them on a collison course. Before he could get out of the ship’s way, they crashed together and he blacked out when he hit his head for the second time in only minutes. When he awoke, he found himself on the deck of the alien ship and in the midst of a crew of Tygerians, with no idea how he got there. But that was the nature of the Never Never and why he tried not to ever go near the place. He saw his own crew fighting, so he jumped to his feet, drew his weapon and waded into the fight.
That’s when he saw him—a beautiful red haired Tygerian who had been right up on him, practically falling into his arms. He had rarely called any Tygerian beautiful, but there was no denying this boy was something special. Rhaegar had reacted instinctively and had, at first, pushed him savagely away, but the second he touched the boy, his brain suddenly screamed, “Mate!”
The young man was tall, even for a Tygerian and about average build for one of his race. He was wearing a gold earring in his left ear, just the same as Rhaegar. In fact, the gold band looked a lot like his own earring. He wondered where he got it and if he was a soldier, why he was allowed to wear it? He’d never seen jewelry on a Tygerian soldier before.
And even the tiger stripes under his skin, which normally Rhaegar didn’t find attractive, were beautiful and rare. They lay in a faint, fascinating pattern that ran across his cheeks and angled down toward his mouth. Rhaegar wanted to follow the pattern with his tongue. He wondered if that same pattern of stripes extended all over the young man’s body. He’d heard once that a Tygerian’s penis was solid black, and he wondered if that was true. He’d like to see that for himself.
He had been assailed all at once by a delectable scent that had made him surge back toward the beautiful boy and try to hold him in his arms. He’d actually managed to get his hands on him for just a moment again before the other Tygerian crewmen swarmed them and tore the boy away.
As he had gazed down at the boy in his arms, though, he had, just for a moment felt as if his Lycan wolf had laid claim to his mate. But damn it, he had no need for a mate. He could control this thing and all he had to do was put his mind to it. He could suppress these stupid urges. He knew he could, and he’d have to, because it was doubtful he’d ever see the boy again, though he’d looked everywhere all over the prison for him. He’d been left to wonder who he could have been. The Tygerian crew didn’t seem to recognize him when they were being processed for prison, nor did any of his men.
Anyway, he needed to get it out of his head, because he had no need of a mate and certainly not here at the eleventh hour when his death was imminent. He told himself he had probably imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was his body’s instinctive urge to live that was making him feel all this sexual tension. He believed it might be.
And he believed that right up until the delectable smell he associated with the boy hit him again, though even stronger this time. So much stronger that he began trembling and might have fallen if he hadn’t been already sitting down.
He got up and ran over to the door of his cell and saw the young Tygerian coming toward him in chains and being pushed down the middle of the aisle of cells by the burly guards. He was being shoved along by them, who were both cursing him as filthy, no good pirate scum. The beautiful boy had his head down, his hair hanging over his face so Rhaegar couldn’t see it very well, but there was no mistaking that scent. He would have recognized it anywhere.
Running along beside him was a much smaller, yellow haired human, and the man was spitting mad. He was trying to wrap both arms around the Tygerian, as if desperately trying to protect him from the jabs and kicks of the guards. Occasionally, he lost his temper at something they said or did and he swung at the guards himself or kicked at them, which only served to make them madder. For some reason, they seemed disinclined to hit the human back when he attacked them, so instead they took their frustrations out on the boy. Most all the other prisoners had come to the doors of their cells by this time and had their faces pressed against the small barred windows to watch their progress down the aisle. The prisoners, who had no love for the guards, were cheering the human on, offering him advice on where to strike the guards next.
As they passed Rhaegar’s cell, one of the guards ventured a little too close and Rhaegar seized his chance. He stuck out his arm and grabbed the man’s long hair, giving it a vicious pull to the delight of the prisoners, who stomped their feet, banged their hands against the doors and laughed uproariously. The guard cried out in pain and staggered backward, then surged over to slam his fists against Rhaegar’s metal door, spouting off a string of curses at him. Rhaegar had backed away by this time and stood jeering at him from inside the safety of his cell.
“What’s the matter, Tyger boy? Can’t handle a chained boy and that little human without some help? Put them in here with me, and I’ll take care of them for you!”
To his complete surprise, the human quickly raised his head and stared at him. “Rhaegar? Is that you?” he said. “Rhaegar, help us! Please! They’re hurting Derrick!”
Rhaegar simply blinked for a moment in surprise—how could the human possibly know his name? Then a strong rage came over him, seemingly out of nowhere, and he leaped toward the door, put both hands around the Tygerian’s neck and began to bang his head against his cell door. The other guard ran over to help him and began pulling and beating at Rhaegar’s hands. He wrestled the first guard away from Rhaegar, yelling vile threats. Then he turned and opened the door across the aisle and shoved both the human and the young Tygerian inside the cell, slamming the door behind them. He turned and came over to open Rhaegar’s cell door.
Rhaegar backed away from the door, grinning at both him and the other guard and raising his fists. “Oh, you want some of this? Then buckle up, boys and let’s do it!” he yelled at them. And that was the last thing he remembered saying before the two big fuckers picked him up and hurled him against the wall.
Later, when he came to, he was aware of a couple of things. One, that he ached pretty much all over his body, and most particularly in the rib cage area, which they always seemed to aim for—and two, someone was calling his name over and over in a low, soft voice. He slowly levered himself up off the floor, checked to see if anything was broken and then managed to hobble over to the door and look out.
The Tygerian boy was pressing his face to the bars, looking scared to death. The scent hit him again, wafting across the aisle to him. “Rhaegar,” he said, closing his big golden green eyes for a moment in relief. “Thank the gods. I was afraid those guards had killed you!”
“Who are you, boy?”
“It’s me, Derrick. Oh gods, you don’t remember me at all, do you?”
“I don’t know any Derrick. And I would have remembered meeting you, sweetheart. What did you do anyway to make those guards so mad?”
“I think they were mostly mad at my omak. He can be a little…well, he can say things that he shouldn’t sometimes.”
“But then why take it out on you?”
“Because they were afraid to hit him. The king has taken an interest in him.”
“The king? Of Tveir?”
“Yes, of course. I think that’s why they finally stopped beating you when they did. My omak was yelling at them to stop and threatening to tell Fa…the king.”
“Huh. Where is he now? Inside there with you?”
“Yes. He’s resting. You’ve been knocked out for a long time. That’s why I was so worried. A different guard came back a while ago and he told us that the ship that’s supposed to take us to the capital city has some engine problems. We’ve been delayed.”
Rhaegar shrugged and grinned. “Oh, I’m not in any kind of hurry.” He looked the boy over, wishing he could get his hands on him. “What are you in here for?”
“Suspicion of espionage, they said. They think I’m a spy. Or maybe a pirate. They keep changing their minds.”
“Neither one’s good around here. Are you a spy? Or a pirate?”
“No. I came here by accident. Just like you did.”
Rhaegar decided to ignore that, because even though it was true, how in the four hells did he know?
“And the human is your omak? Is that what you said? That’s like a Tygerian nanny, isn’t it?”
“A what? You mean a child’s caretaker? No, he’s my bearer. My father.”
“I thought they stopped all that a long time ago.”
“No. Not really. Not on my planet.”
“But you’re Tygerian, right? So you must have come here with the others when they resettled.”
“No, I still live on Tygeria. At least I did. Before I met my husband.”
“Oh, is that right?” Rhaegar ground out between clenched teeth. He was suddenly and utterly furious at the idea this boy Derrick having a husband. Or any other man touching him. Any man but Rhaegar himself.
“Yes,” the boy replied softly. “Don’t you remember, Rhaegar? That first night we met?”
Rhaegar shook his head. “We’ve never met before. I told you. I would have remembered.”
“But you don’t…remember that is. We met a while ago on one of the Lycan moons.”
Had they met? Maybe in some bar when he was maybe too drunk to recall? No, impossible. There was no way he could have forgotten this beautiful creature in front of him. He could only see about half of his face through the bars, but it was the most beautiful half a face he’d ever seen.
“You told me that night on Belline, that on the planet Lycanus or on any of its moons,” the boy Derrick was saying, “if I said the words ‘make me yours’ three times to you, then we’d be as good as married. And I’d be yours forever.”
All of a sudden it was hard to breathe. Rhaegar’s head was swirling as he gazed across at those beautiful eyes. He could barely speak as he rasped out the words, “And what did you say to that?”
He smiled. “I said, then make me yours, make me yours, make me yours.” He smiled sweetly at Rhaegar. “And then you did.”
Rhaegar gasped and gripped the bars in both hands. He was breathing hard and he wondered if this boy knew how badly he wanted to hold him in his arms.
From behind him, the human spoke up, breaking the spell. “Enough flirting, you two. We need to be making a plan to get ourselves out of this mess.”
Derrick turned and looked back over his shoulder, presumably at the man he’d called his bearer. “But we’re in a prison, omak. How can we get out?”
“I don’t know, but we better figure something out before they take us to their capital city for trial.” Blake came over to stand beside him, looking over at Rhaegar. “Hello again, Rhaegar. Thanks for your help with the guards. They were mad because the king told them not to touch me no matter what I said to them. And I took advantage of that.”
“He told them that? King Davos? You’ll be all right then if the guards think the king will punish them if they touch you. They’re scared to death of him.”
“Why is that?”
Rhaegar smiled and shrugged. “Because he’s a mean bastard, that’s why.”
“Oh.”
Something in his voice made Rhaegar sorry for being so blunt, and he smiled over at Blake. “Much like anyone in authority. Nobody likes a pirate, it seems. If that’s what you are…” He glanced over at Derrick, who was frowning and looking worried. He wanted to take him in his arms and tell him that everything would be all right. His wolf stirred restlessly inside him at the sight of Derrick’s obvious uneasiness. He tried to get his mind off things by addressing the idea of an escape—though his boy was right. It would more than likely be impossible.
“Did you have a particular plan in mind or was that just wishful thinking?”
“No, nothing in particular,” the blond said. “But Rhaegar, you have to come up with something. I was counting on you.”
Rhaegar shook his head. “On me? Do I know you from somewhere?”
The human rolled his expressive blue eyes and sighed. “No, probably not. This is so hard. I’m Blake, and you should know me, but you don’t remember. Not since that fucking wormhole.”
“The wormhole? You mean the Never Never. Were you inside it too?”
“Yes, but at a different time than the rest of you.”
“It’s a strange and dangerous place.”
“Yes, I know. And since you seem to know too, can you just trust me when I assure you that we do know each other. That you know Derrick too—very well, I might add. And that something happened inside that wormhole to change everything. If you remembered…if you knew who Derrick really is…you’d want to get those memories back, and you’d want to help us. Please, Rhaegar.”
He looked from Blake’s face back to Derrick’s and the memory of the two of them was almost there. Just tantalizingly out of reach. Or maybe just wishful thinking because of these feelings he was having for the Tygerian boy. Yet all his instincts were telling him to listen. Were telling him he’d regret it if he didn’t. And what were instincts anyway, but a tiny voice inside you giving you advice. Where did that voice come from? And what if it did come from something you’d learned about in another life?
“I’ll help you if I can,” he heard himself saying. “But like I said, we’re going to need some kind of a plan for when they finally get that ship out there fixed, and they come to load us up.”