He felt Vesperin stiffen next to him at his words.
"So she’s the reason you fled Sibeth, then?" Asura purred. "I understand. We all have a weakness for pretty things, but we thought you’d be back by now. Get bored like you always do." She stalked forward, her heeled knee-high boots clicking against the dark floor as she rounded the large desk in the center of the room.
"Let us go," Cyrus demanded. When they both ignored him—Volik’s eyes finding Asura’s—he added, "That is an order from your Prince. Let us both go."
Asura sighed. "Go ahead, Volik."
Volik stepped forward, reaching for Cyrus’s binds, but he narrowed his eyes up at the male. At one time, Cyrus had enjoyed his lips and touch, but now the feeling of his hands on him made him want to shrink back. Nothing could compare to his doll.
"Untie her first." Cyrus jerked his head to Vesperin.
Volik obeyed. When Vesperin was untied, she didn’t stand; she immediately turned to Cyrus, waving away Volik’s hands as she reached behind Cyrus for his binds. This close, he smelled her fear, worry, and?—
Soft hints of arousal.
Cyrus couldn’t stop the grin that broke free. He savored the glimmers of her arousal for strength as she reached behind him and untied the rope. Her touches were soft and hesitant as her fingertips brushed over his wrists. The ropes slipped to the ground. Before she pulled away, he leaned into her ear. "You can tie me up later if you want."
She inhaled against him as he pulled away. Her eyes were wide still, but he easily recognized the lust clouding them. Good. He’d rather her be wanting than scared.
He took her hand and stood, facing off with Volik and Asura.
Their eyes dropped to their entwined fingers, interest sparking there. He knew what they were thinking. It wasn’tthe first time they’d been ordered to hunt him down after he disappeared, chasing after a conquest or something to fill the void in his Soul—that could only be filled by the girl by his side.
"How long have you been searching for me?" Cyrus demanded.
Volik inclined his head to Asura, deferring to her.
"Your father put out a bounty three months ago. Of course, we were the ones to pick it up. We’re used to your ways, after all," said Asura. "But not this time—this time, you’ve been different. He wants you to come home, to Sibeth, Prince Cyrus. He won’t stop until you return."
"I will never go back there." Cyrus was done pretending Vesperin was anything less than she was. Let his father try to hunt him down again. He would be ready, and he had more help this time. Three hundred years ago, it had just been him, and he’d been young—a mere princeling. Now, he would bow to no one but his Soulbond.
"He wishes to speak with you," Volik said.
Asura ran her fingers through her wild curls, giving them her back as she walked to the plain wall. She pressed a button on the table, and a lifelike hologram was projected onto the wall. A male stepped into view, sitting with regal grace upon the high-backed chair. His red hair was styled to perfection, purple eyes matching the amethysts in his crown. Even as a hologram, a sensual sort of grace radiated from his father.
"Cyrus," King Soltren boomed, his voice filling the meeting room, coming from hidden speakers all around them. "Enough with the games, son. I have been lenient, have I not? I have allowed you your"—his eyes flicked to Cyrus’s side, finding Vesperin—"distractions. But it is time to return home."
Cyrus inhaled, feeling lightheaded. He loathed his father. Vesperin squeezed his hand, and he looked over at her, feelingstrength pool inside him at just a glimpse of her. She nodded at him, trusting. "I am not coming home, Father."
His father’s jaw tightened, and Cyrus recognized the look—it always preceded his punishments, the pain of someone dear to him.
He tried to remind himself he was planets away. Asura and Volik would not harm him. He was sure of it. As if to assure him, Asura drew his attention where she stood off to the side. She placed her fist over her heart, tapping once. A signal of respect. Volik mirrored the action. His father couldn’t see them where they stood. If he did, he’d order them killed.
Cyrus rolled his shoulders back. He was a changed male. No longer an irresponsible prince who spent his days trying to forget, between the legs of males and females alike. His father seemed worlds away from the problems he faced on Earth, with his Soulbond.
He had a purpose now. And the choice was simple.
It came to him as easily as breathing.
"And you, girl?" As his father spoke to Vesperin, Cyrus realized he may not have remembered her from the time before—she did look different after all, with her hair and eyes. He wondered if his father even remembered her to begin with, or if she was just another face in the long line of those he’d hurt to teach him a lesson. "Who are you, some bitch that drew his eye?" his father continued. "Whatever he’s paying you, I can give you more. Name your price."
Cyrus’s lips were etched in a snarl—he’d never let anyone talk about her that way, but she spoke before he could.
"I don’t owe you my name or obedience. Everything Cyrus has done, he chose himself. I don’t have to know you to see that your son is a far better man… incubus"—she corrected, cheeks warming as his father scoffed—" than you will ever be."
The smile on Cyrus’s face was one carved with pride.
His father regarded her for one moment longer, then turned his purple eyes away, done with her, deeming her inconsequential. It stung Cyrus; he wondered how it made Vesperin feel to face the scrutiny of a king as he had for centuries. He wished he could’ve protected her from it forever.
