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The past twelve hours or so had been among the worst of Kalen’s life, starting from the time he walked out of the heartbreakingly beautiful Tygerian’s room on Belline right up until now. As soon as he’d made it to the end of the hall, his uncle’s guards had surrounded him. The one who seemed to be in charge—he thought his name was Garet—took his arm in a custodial grip.
“I’ve notified your uncle of your activities here tonight, and he’s given us orders to take you into immediate custody and deliver you to the space station.”
Kalen jerked his arm away, or tried to, though the man was like a four-armed Leerian monkey and kept grabbing onto him again.
“How dare you lay hands on me, you imbecile!”
Garet flushed at his tone—not out of embarrassment but sheer rage, Kalen thought—and pushed his ugly face down into Kalen’s. “Your uncle gave me permission, that’s how. Now come along with us, and you won’t get hurt.”
“I’d like to see you try to hurt me, you fool!” Kalen yelled and swung at his head.
Seconds later, he found himself at the bottom of a pile of his uncle’s guards, being crushed by their combined weight. When he cursed and threatened, they ignored him and tied his hands behind him. The final indignity was when he found himself gagged and frog marched down the stairs and into the main area of the bar. Dartan jumped to his feet from a table where all his men were gathered with weapons pointed at them by the other guards. But Dartan was shoved unceremoniously back down and one of the disruptors was held to his head.
“You’re all coming with us to Arkaan 673,” Garet barked at them. “We have our orders to shoot any of your personal guard who try to interfere.”
Kalen jerked his head at Dartan, trying to signal him to do as they said, sending him a silent, furious message that promised they’d take retribution for all of this. Dartan nodded, though still angry and unhappy at seeing his prince treated with such disrespect.
“Take the fucking gag off him at least,” Dartan said, “or you’ll have to shoot all of us right here and now, and I think that might cause a stir even on Belline.”
Garet grimaced but nodded at one of the guards closest to Kalen, who pulled the cloth gag down, though he left the thing tied around Kalen’s neck. He gave another signal for them to move out and the entire group left the Starlight and made their way out of the plaza and then walked on to the port about a half mile away.
His despised uncle had a shuttle waiting for them there with orders to take them back to Lycanus 2 where a transport was supposed to be waiting.
It wasn’t.
“Looks like my uncle reached his usual level of competency,” Kalen commented with bitter satisfaction. “Now what do we do, geniuses?”
Garet ignored him and went inside the port office to figure out whether or not a transport to the station was coming. Eventually, someone told Garet that there had been a miscommunication, but they could take the regularly scheduled transport…the one that would arrive in three hours.
What other choice did they have? They settled in the uncomfortable chairs to wait. At least they untied Kalen’s hands, though only because a Lycan police official gave them a suspicious, hostile look.
“I’m sorry I got us into this,” Kalen murmured to Dartan, who had taken a seat beside him. “It was a terrible idea to go to Belline.” His hangover was hitting him in earnest now, and his head ached horribly. His stomach too, and even his hair hurt.
“It’s over now,” Dartan was telling him softly in his ear. “Let’s just get through this and get to the space station. Perhaps you should inform your Tygerian prince what’s happened and let him handle Nerol and his guards.”
“I’ll take care of Nerol myself, don’t worry. And he has a long list of crimes to answer for.”
Despite the way his head was throbbing, Kalen managed to doze a little until the transport arrived. To his dismay, he dreamed of beautiful, exotic Tygerians.
They were served a meal onboard, consisting of heavy Lycan food, which turned his stomach even more after all the one from the night before, but the Lycan tea was excellent, and he was able to choke down a little of the nutty flavored bread. He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that took up the rest of the journey and when they arrived at the space station, and Dartan shook his arm, he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He felt tired and achy and vaguely remembered meeting the commandant. Then he was whisked to his room on an upper floor. Thank the gods, Dartan was allowed to stay with him, because he was really beginning to feel unwell, and he didn’t want another argument with the fucking guards. Hewoulddeal with them, but maybe he'd wait until he was sure he could stay on his feet.
Dartan helped him undress and shoved him into a hot shower while he unpacked Kalen’s bags. It certainly wasn’t any of his captain of the guard duties, but he did it uncomplainingly and told Kalen he really needed to go to bed and rest, because he looked terrible.
“This has all been a lot for you to take. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
Kalen nodded and didn’t even remember falling asleep. The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to artificial light all around him, although thankfully, Dartan had it dimmed. He sat up, as he heard Dartan talking to someone. It turned out to be a server bringing breakfast, and Kalen realized it had to be the next morning, and he’d literally slept for hours.
His stomach growled in approval of the smells coming from the tray. Kalen laughed and rubbed a hand over it. “I think I’m starving.”
“Then let’s eat,” Dartan replied, drawing a chair near the bed and settling in next to him. He began to dig through what room service had brought them.
Kalen got out of bed and stretched, surprised at how sore he was. “Wait, let me use the facilities first.”
He scooted off the bed and went to the huge “bathing room,” as the Tygerians called it.
A few minutes later, he walked slowly back into the room, his footsteps dragging.
