Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 48568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“He likes to fuck!” Thadecus declared with a roar of amusement. “Of course he does! Built like a bull, this one!”
He slapped Lucan on the back and Lucan was much relieved to discover that he was not going to be forced to submit to the king’s lusts.
It soon turned out that there was no need to force anybody. The intensity and the menace Lucan had at first sensed was not in the attempt to make him submit to a royal rogering. It was jealousy.
No sooner had Lucan taken a step away from the king than Sir Portias was by the royal’s side, offering himself with soft, submissive crooning. Portias was quite the appealing creature, a redhead with a muscular form and what proved to be a full and eager mouth.
The king fucked his knight in the middle of the clearing, rutting the willing bottom without much in the way of lubricant and even less in the way of tenderness. It was like watching an animal mate — a drunk, instinctually driven beast that cared only for sating its own lusts.
By the end of the hunt no animal blood had been spilled, and the Forcehunds had not bred — but the king had bred his favorites very well. The clearing was filled with the satisfied grunts of a monarch and his men sating desires that would never, could never be tolerated at Castle Force.
Back to the present…
Lucan looked into the pale, frightened face of the prince. He was every inch his father’s son, but he did not know it. He had been kept at a distance from his father, most likely due to his mother’s paranoia that his proclivities might be catching. But he needed a father, or at the very least, a father figure. Someone to teach him all the practical arts of being a man. Now more than ever, Sebastian was vulnerable.
His mother had a great deal to answer for having created a prince so incapable of defending himself. Nobody had ever been in a position to question Melinda Force. Thadecus’ proclivities had given her every reason to enforce Sebastian’s isolation. And now, here they were. The king was dead and the queen was too, and the crown prince, sole heir to the throne, was as helpless as he had been as a boy.
A surge of protective desire that went far beyond mere loyalty to an oath surged through Lucan.
“Do not worry, sire. I will teach you to hunt,” Lucan said. “And I will teach you to fight.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened in confusion, and perhaps horror. “To what end?”
“To the end of reclaiming your crown and your throne.”
“Oh.” Sebastian seemed surprised by the idea, as if the notion of fighting had not occurred to him. “Oh!”
“You have suffered a setback, but what happened this evening was a wrong that will be righted. I swear that on my oath to the crown.”
Sebastian nodded a little, his eyes darting from Lucan to the fire, and then back to Lucan again. He did not seem to know how to respond to so much loyal vigor, or how to even begin comprehending the task of reclaiming his throne from the invaders.
“Do you think they, the usurpers, I mean, have been in my bedchamber?”
The question puzzled Lucan, but he answered it regardless. “Likely, sire.”
“Hm. And do you think there is any chance they would send my things after me, a trunk of clothing, perhaps?”
“Doubtful, sire.”
Sebastian looked at Lucan, his expression suddenly determined. It appeared he was more motivated out of attachment to his wardrobe rather than any desire to avenge his family or control the crown.
“That is simply rude,” he said, putting his hands out to enjoy the fire Lucan had managed to start in the grate. “I mean, it’s one thing to kill my entire family on my birthday. But to steal all my clothes, and I suppose all my books too?” He looked at Lucan with a hopeful expression as he asked that last question.
“Yes, sire. Your books too.”
A slight intake of breath from the prince indicated how very unhappy he was about that.
“I am used to people taking things from me,” Sebastian mused, his blue eyes seeming to take on a slightly purple hue in the firelight. “I am accustomed to being disrespected. But I think I don’t like this new development.”
“I would not like it either,” Lucan commiserated.
Sebastian crouched down closer to the flames and leaned his chin on the back of his hand. The fire played across his face, sharpening his features, making him look slightly older.
“I suppose I shall have to reclaim the throne then, shan’t I.” He spoke as if it would be a minor inconvenience, not a feat of incredible will and skill and endurance of near incomprehensible duration.
“If you wish to reclaim your throne, sire, you will have to fight for it.”