The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 9-1

CHAPTER NINE

Adalard was almost thankful that the ride back to the ranch was done in silence. Between the freezing wind blowing in from the busted window and the heat cranked up as far as it would go so they wouldn’t freeze, they would have had to yell to be heard. Well, there was another way, but something warned him that Samara wasn’t ready to find out that he had been honest about his origins.

He thought about his conversation with Samara’s brother. The man was a waste of good oxygen in his opinion. Jerry’s disregard for Samara infuriated him, and it had taken considerable self-control not to throttle the man again. Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in retrieving information from those who were reluctant to give it.

“I need to drive the UTV down from the upper paddock. Would you mind dropping me off and driving my truck back to the barn?” she requested. “You can leave it there. I think there is some plastic sheeting I can use in the workroom to seal the window until I can see if the junkyard has one. If they don’t, I’ll have to order one.”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Thanks,” she said, turning onto the long driveway.

She drove past Mason’s house and turned left to follow the road up to the main homestead where he was staying. She continued along the narrow track. Up ahead, the trees grew sparse, and he could see the vast open plains that were visible from the back of the homestead. Snow-capped mountains rose in the distance. Adalard could see a red barn that was smaller than the one near the main house. In front of the barn was the four-wheeled vehicle Samara had used earlier.

She pulled to a stop beside it and shifted the truck into park. They sat in silence, looking out over the valley. He could sense she wanted to say something and was frustrated by his inability to break through the barrier that shielded her mind. He would have to ask Ha’ven about how his connection with Emma had progressed. If Arrow were on board the Rayon I he would have asked him, even if it meant getting another lecture about not paying attention to Salvin, their mentor and Keeper of the Archives.

“We still need to talk, but it can wait. You only got here today. It’s hard to believe that. It feels like a lot longer.” She paused, took a breath, and shook her head as if answering an unspoken question. “Thanks again.”

She opened her door and slid out, cringing at the crackle of broken glass. He exited the vehicle at the same time and met her at the front. His expression softened when he saw the metal box that held her life savings in her hands. She held it protectively against her chest like a shield.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers. Her lips parted, and for a moment, she lowered the invisible mental wall between them, allowing him to connect with her for the first time. His chest tightened with emotion when he sensed her confusion, making it hard to breathe.

“We can talk when you are ready,” Adalard said.

Samara gave him a brief, uncertain smile before she walked away. He sighed and watched her hurry into the barn. Walking around to the driver’s side, he paused and studied the door with the missing window.

With a mischievous smile and a devilish glint in his eyes, he lifted his hand and focused on the door. The small fragments of broken glass rose out of the empty slot in the door, and with a burst of energy, they were expanded and reformed, creating a new window. He tested his repair, pushing and pulling the button on the door to make sure that the window functioned properly.

“Yes, misha petite lawarrior, we will have much to talk about later,” he murmured with satisfaction.

He climbed into the truck and shut the door. Samara had unwittingly given him a chance to familiarize himself with a human vehicle, which might come in handy over the next few days. He turned down the heat, shifted the truck into reverse, and took his time following the road back to Paul’s house.

Five minutes later, he parked the truck outside of the barn. He contemplated what he should do with the keys before an idea formed that made him smile. Lifting his hand, he thought of the painting in the house with the vase of flowers in it.

Adalard relished the feeling of energy flowing through him as a bright red stem formed. It twisted, flowing upward from the palm of his hand. Bright yellow leaves branched out at intervals before delicate, violet petals the color of his eyes took shape.

This flower species only grew along the riverbank near the palace grounds. As a child, he had been fascinated with them. He gently stroked the closed center and it opened. He carefully dropped the keys inside the flower and placed the blossom on the driver’s seat. He was confident that none of Samara’s brothers would return today, and her truck would be safe.

He shut the door and looked back up the road. Today was without a doubt one of the strangest days of his life. He had started out with the idea of having some fun exploring a new world but discovered his mate instead. Now, he just needed to figure out how to keep from ruining it.

“First things first—find the device on my ship. It is a danger to me and that makes it a danger to Samara,” he murmured.

It was too far to phase-jump to his ship. He would have to travel by foot. The journey back would be easier because he could use a hoverboard. Within minutes, he was deep in the forest.