Sons of Lyra: Slave Princess Read Free Page A

behind
him.

    He scanned the room. There
was no sign of her. The place was a mess. The blue silk covers had
been torn off the double bed, the pillows tossed across the room.
One of them had been split open, spilling the fine Friskin feathers
inside. He edged further into the room. The table and chairs were
tipped over. The vase near the window had been smashed, littering
blue glass across the pale grey floor. He leaned to the side and
peered towards the bathroom. She had to be in there. There was
nowhere else for her to hide.

    His steps were slow and
measured, his breathing level and steady as he approached the
bathroom. He pressed his back into the wall that separated the room
from the corridor outside and slid towards the bathroom door. It
opened to reveal an even bigger mess than was in the main room.
Everything was scattered across the white glass floor—towels,
beauty products, even what little clothing she’d been wearing
before. Shards of the mirror created a dangerous assault course.
The soap dust container had been left in the wet of the shower and
had turned into a gelatinous blob. There was blood on the floor. He
presumed it belonged to the poor woman he’d sent in to tend to the
girl. The broken mirror explained how she’d got the cut. The girl
must have used it as a weapon.

    He eased inside the small
room and frowned when he saw her.

    She was curled up in the
corner holding her knees to her chest. The chain attached to her
collar snaked across the floor towards him, the end near his
foot.

    “ Are you
alright?” he said and she tensed, pulling her knees tighter against
her chest. She looked so incredibly tiny.

    Her black hair hid her
face. Her skin was milky now that she was clean, tainted only by
pinkish scars that hadn’t healed yet.

    “ Are you
alright?” He tried again. She buried her face into her knees and
turned away so her side was facing him.

    She couldn’t understand
him. She probably thought he was coming back to do all the terrible
things to her that the Sekarian had spoken of. He crouched down
near the door, keeping his distance. He had to get her out of the
bathroom and dressed. There was no way he could have a conversation
with her until she was in a decent state of dress. He’d never be
able to concentrate and he would definitely give her the wrong
impression, especially if his body kept reacting as it was now. He
stifled his urges and stood.

    Moving across the room,
the shattered mirror pieces splintered under his heavy boots,
crunching against the glass floor tiles.

    The second he went to
touch her arm, she launched herself at him, scratching down his
face and pushing him backwards into the shower area of the room. He
slipped on the wet tiles and went crashing to the ground. She
bolted.

    He was on his feet before
she could make it halfway across the main room and grabbed her
around the waist, lifting her off the floor. Her legs flailed,
catching him hard in the crotch and killing any urges he might have
had. He gritted his teeth, swallowed hard and tightened his grip on
her.

    She elbowed him in the
face.

    He threw her onto the bed
and grappled with her until he was sitting astride her hips with
his hands pinning hers to the bed.

    She breathed hard and
screwed her face up as she struggled again, trying to break
free.

    His eyes raked over her
against his will. Her breasts heaved as she breathed and he tried
to look away from them but couldn’t. They were so tempting—luscious
mounds peaked with hard dusky nipples. The door opened.

    He looked across the room
to see his first lieutenant standing in the doorway with the female
co-pilot he’d sent to get the translators.

    “ I thought
there might be trouble,” the woman said in a quiet voice, a stunned
look on her face.

    That stunned look was
echoed on his first lieutenant’s face.

    He knew how bad it looked.
He was kneeling astride a naked woman after all. How good could it
look?

    “ Just hurry up
with those,” he