Caeryssa's quest for relaxation spirals into chaos, entwining her destiny with the infuriating playboy prince whose smile conceals a dark vendetta that will shatter any possibility of their soulmate connection.
***
On Oenone, where lush forests meet...
Caeryssa watched the door close and waited, muscles trembling and primed to fight. Had the prince really protected her? Or was it all an act? The suddenness of the attack had stunned her. His friend, Emmed, hadn't asked her a single question before fisting her hair and tearing at her remaining clothes. She shuddered, the memory of his violent grip and invasive touch still far too fresh. Her skin crawled with the itch to remove the filthy feel of him, to wash him off of her, to somehow get clean again. A shower. Shards, she craved a shower, especially if the bathroom door locked.
No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she flew across the room, slamming the bathroom door closed and flipping the latch with shaking fingers. It wouldn't stop them if they were determined to bust in, but it would at least give her more warning than she'd had.
White fluffy towels were stacked on a shelf above the toilet, with a large, glass-enclosed shower, and gleaming metal sink and counter. The bathroom was clean, functional, and surprisingly spacious. Seriously, what class ship was this to have such luxuries?
After getting her raspy, panted breaths under control, she unlaced her boots, removing the footwear that had gotten her out of many close scrapes in the past. Somehow, she didn't think they were going to be much use this time. Not when she was trapped by the thistle-cursed bond. With all that had happened in the last half an hour, it was no wonder she'd temporarily forgotten that vital, inescapable fact.
And wasn't that the thorn in her everblooming fuck of a day? Trapped permanently with a man whose friend had forced himself on her. She'd have to see her attempted rapist constantly.
She removed her destroyed shipsuit, bra, and panties, thinking longingly of the luxurious clothing left behind in her hotel suite. With the shower water pouring blessedly hot, it took soaping her body twice before her flesh stopped creeping.
Her hands slowed as she washed herself a third time. What the fuck was she going to do? And why, in all the twisty branches, did the root-shrivelled prince think her father had killed his family?
Sure, his mother and sister were probably murdered. She could empathize with his tragic loss. It was an unfortunate risk of being in power, especially when the guild was so influential that assassination was a common advancement strategy. Sigma Draconis were notorious for their ruthless lust for power and betrayal to get it. There were always those who wanted to take it. Still... to think her dad was an assassin?
Nuts.
Completely and utterly berry.
He had military experience. Of course he did. Most men on Alycone had served in the military in some capacity, thanks to the skirmishes over the last hundred cycles with Piscium in the neighbouring star system. That didn't make him a damned killer for hire.
There must be a way of proving he was in another system, making some cargo deal when one or some of those purported kills occurred. She'd just need that list Prince Know-It-All left displayed on the wall and her father's books. Could she get into his books from here? Her heart sank. Only if her damned kidnapper gave her datastream access. It was one of the first things she'd tried when he'd left her alone earlier, but they were blocking her somehow. Even with the fancy, military-grade com her dad had insisted on, she couldn't connect and she couldn't call for help.
And she couldn't risk they'd trace her path back to her father. Not if they were going to arrest him for assassinating part of their royal family. Most planets had the death penalty for something like that. For fuck's sake, if he really was a guild assassin, he'd be exempt. No planet wanted to get on the wrong side of the ruthless guild. They'd wiped out planetary governments that challenged their right to conduct business. Even the Ascendancy left them alone so they could utilize their master assassins' skills at will.
She rinsed her body and huddled at the bottom of the shower. What could she do? Would the prince continue to protect her if she didn't cooperate? Or would he follow through on his own threat? Why? Why had he protected her after manhandling her himself?
It made no sense.
She stared at her wrists and the warmth that still lingered. How had he done that? The bruises were healing far faster than normal—instead of purple-black on her blue skin, they'd turned green. The abrasions were closed and didn't sting anymore. And her throat didn't hurt to swallow. Was it the soulmate bond? Why had he helped her... healed her... after causing some of the injuries himself?
Caeryssa thumped her head against the wall. She had more questions than answers and no clear path forward. Her father's words from her self-defence training echoed in her mind. Cooperate and survive. Wait for your chance. I'll come for you.
Yeah. That was what she was afraid of. She was the bait to trap him.
(844 words)
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