The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 12-1

CHAPTER TWELVE

Samara ignored Jerry the next morning as she placed the last box containing her personal belongings into the back of her truck. The others had either given up on trying to antagonize her into giving in to their demands or had left for work. For some reason, only Jerry seemed determined to continue their futile battle.

“You need to stay away from Paul Grove’s ranch,” he suddenly stated.

“That’s not happening,” she replied.

Jerry looked over his shoulder at the closed front door before he jumped off the front porch and stood next to her. She continued to ignore him. Lifting the tailgate, she made sure it was secure. A sharp hiss slipped from her when Jerry grabbed her arm. She yanked it free.

“What do you know about that guy that was with you yesterday?” he demanded.

She shrugged. “It really isn’t any of my business,” she retorted, walking around the truck to the driver’s side.

“Damn it, Samara. You can’t f*****g lie to me. I know how much money you have, and I know that bastard isn’t who he says he is,” Jerry snapped.

She opened the driver’s door and glared at her brother. “Your sudden concern for my wellbeing is touching,” she sarcastically replied with a pseudo sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “but I’m just not sensing the sincerity.”

Jerry shoved her. She stumbled back against the open door, her eyes widening in wary alarm when he raised his fist. She was already sporting some bruises that she would have to hide. It would be a bit more difficult to pass off a black eye or a busted lip.

Suddenly, Jerry was lifted off his feet and tossed through the air back onto the porch. She gasped, and with her mouth hanging open, stared at the back of a black leather jacket. There was a glowing sword in Adalard Ha’darra’s hand. She instinctively reached out and grabbed his wrist in alarm, her attention on the front door.

“Put that thing away,” she frantically ordered.

The sound of footsteps against the wood floor warned her that Rob and Gary were coming. She hastily stepped in front of Adalard as the door opened. A quick glance down verified the sword was gone.

“What the hell? What happened to you?” Rob demanded, looking down at Jerry.

“He slipped on an icy patch and fell,” Samara said before Jerry could answer.

“Ouch, you okay, man?” Gary asked, holding out his hand to Jerry.

Jerry pursed his lips and nodded. He kept his wary gaze focused on Adalard. Gary lowered his eyes and muttered something incoherently before he turned and retreated into the house. Jerry pushed past a confused Rob.

“Who the hell are you?” Rob demanded.

“He’s one of the survival guys from Mr. Grove’s ranch. I promised to give him a lift this morning. I’ve got to go, or we’ll be late,” she said.

Samara turned and nudged Adalard toward the truck. His focus was still locked on the door where Jerry had disappeared. She swore the temperature dropped another two degrees just from his icy glare.

“We’re not finished,” Rob called.

She ignored her brother and motioned for Adalard to get in the truck. He turned and strode around the front. Only when he slid in beside her did she release the breath she was holding. She shut her door, started the truck, shifted it into gear, and drove away.

“Damn it,” she muttered when the seat belt warning rang out.

She pressed the brake and clipped it in. Adalard did the same. She glanced at his taut face. She chuckled and shook her head when she saw the twitch above his left eye.

“What do you find amusing?” he inquired.

“You’ve got the Lee-Stephens twitch going,” she answered.

“What is that?” he finally asked.

She gave him a sympathetic grin. “It’s what happens when anyone is around my brothers for more than a few hours,” she informed him with an inelegant snort.

He grimaced and rubbed his temple. “Arrow causes the same thing to happen,” he muttered.

“Arrow?” she repeated with a raised eyebrow before she pulled out onto the highway.

“My brother,” he answered.

“Oh.” Samara didn’t know why she never thought that he could have a family. “So, back at the house… where did you come from?”

He was silent long enough to make her curious. She glanced at him. He was moodily staring out of the window. As the silence grew, she wondered if he heard her. She was about to rephrase the question when he spoke.

“I teleported from the ranch,” he replied in a low voice.

The truck veered onto the shoulder of the road when she turned and looked at him. She carefully maneuvered it back onto the pavement. She was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers were beginning to hurt.

“You… teleported. Are you saying you just popped up next to my truck out of thin air?” she demanded in a hoarse voice.

He released a loud sigh. “Yes,” he answered in a brusque tone.

Samara warily glanced at Adalard again. “You don’t sound happy about that,” she observed.

“I’ve never traveled this far before. My teleportation skills were only recently discovered. My brother, Ha’ven, was the first to conquer the ability. Arrow believes it is a latent ability that we just never explored before. At first, he thought it manifested itself when we met our mate, but we ruled that out when we realized I could do it, too—before I met you. However, Arrow is still working on his theories. The only other way we move from one place to another is through a transporter,” he explained.

She silently sorted through each part of his explanation. It wasn’t easy since her mind kept going back to the word ‘mate.’ Was he alluding to her being his mate? Even though she could see the colors swirling around him and hear his voice in her head, it didn’t mean she was a b***h in heat.

“Define ‘mate,’ because I’m not sure your definition and ours is translating correctly,” she requested.

He frowned as he turned in his seat and looked at her. “Mate—as in you are the woman for me, and I am the man for you. We are compatible. Our auras have connected in a way that only soul mates can. You are my balance,” he quietly explained.

The snort of amusement slipped from her before she could stifle it. She tried to cover it with a cough, but from the scowl of disapproval on his face, he wasn’t buying it. At least his definition was more… romantic than her first thought.

“You think that I’m your mate because of some cosmic light show?” she skeptically asked with an amused grin.

“Yes,” he tersely replied.

She shook her head. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, lover boy, but I have plans, and they don’t include chasing wild colors across the galaxy with an alien—no matter how sexy you think you might be. I’ve had enough of testosterone driven males for a while,” she confessed before giving him an apologetic smile and continuing, “I’m afraid you’ll have to find another girl looking for an out-of-this-world-adventure. I’m keeping my size sevens here on Earth.”