Prince of Cats Page 2

  Before he could taste more of her she fled to claim her position among the slaves at the wall.

  Unsure what else to do, Bray re-claimed his seat but his focus stayed on the slave. She was beautiful. Fragile looking but strong if her acceptance of the Slave Master’s punishment was any indication. She was petite with long brown hair and startling blue eyes, a rarity in Thebes. He wanted desperately to study her face, but she kept her head down as slaves were supposed to. He studied the tattooed symbol that rested high on her cheekbone under her left eye. He knew it signified that she was a slave, but wondered what it actually meant—if anything. Funny, he’d never cared enough before to ever ask. As a matter of fact, now that he actually considered it he doubted he’d ever even looked directly at a slave. His eyes narrowed on the woman. She was different. Why hadn’t he noticed her before? Why hadn’t he scented her before? His eyes bore into her bowed head as he willed her to look at him. She did. His adrenaline spiked and his tongue ran over the roof of his mouth savoring the flavor of her that lingered there. He started to sweat. The affect she was having on him had only ever happened to him once before and that realization made him sweat more. Control yourself, he self-admonished, but he couldn’t seem to keep from watching her.

  Beside him, his best friend Madu leaned close speaking around a bite of bread. “Will you kill her?”

  Bray frowned, but kept his eyes on the slave. “For spilling wine on me?”

  Madu shrugged, “You’ve killed men for less.”

  “She is not a man.”

  Madu looked over at her seeming to actually take notice of her for the first time. “No.” He chewed and stared for a few moments. “She is pretty. You should have her make it up to you. Work off some of your aggression in a more pleasurable manner rather than always using your fists.”

  Bray’s abdominal muscles clenched. He’d been thinking the exact same thing. The other guardian Cats often ‘played’ with the slaves. It was one of their few pleasures, and one of which Bray had never partaken.

  “You eating?” Madu eyed Bray’s empty hands and turned to look at his friend but Bray was already getting up from the table.

  Just one sniff, Bray told himself. Surely that will satisfy my Cat. He smiled satisfactorily when he saw the woman tense. She knew he was coming.

  He stopped mere inches in front of her, leaned down, and inhaled sharply. His Cat growled in appreciation. Amon, she smells good!

  He was fighting the urge to toss her over his shoulder and drag her into the corridor to have his way with her when her head snapped up surprising him. She apologized again and called him Master, but the way she spoke the word let him know that she did not believe that he was any Master of hers. She was challenging him and it had his inner Cat fidgeting in giddy anticipation of the hunt.

  Bray laughed at her daring and it sounded funny even to his own ears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed, but he knew he hadn’t done it since his mate had died. My mate. The thought had him sobering. He shouldn’t be playing this game with another woman. He should leave. His feet didn’t move though. His Cat refused to go without some token of her, some piece to carry, to scent, to remember how close he’d come to once again enjoying the softness of a woman.

  His Cat eyed her gown, demanding he rip it off and claim it as a token. He knew if he did that he’d claim more than just her tunic. He eyed her long braid and decided it’d be a safer option. She didn’t move as he pulled his blade and cut a portion off the end. Her fear spiked and it too smelled arousing in its submission. He lifted her hair to his nose knowing he needed to drown out the sweet scent of her fear. He smelled her hair and moaned.

  Perhaps it was time to begin seeking out a new mate. First, he’d seek out the Slave Master and let the man know that he would pay dearly if he hurt the woman again.

  Chapter 3

  Neomee helped the other slaves finish cleaning the dining hall. She was reluctant to return to the slave quarters. The Slave Master would be waiting and he’d be furious. Nonetheless, it could not be avoided. She tried to keep from thinking of the beating she’d get as she walked woodenly toward the table she’d been assigned. Stopping, she eyed the still drying pool of wine on the ground at her feet. A shiver coursed through her when she remembered the look the Prince Cat had given her.

  She quickly cleaned her assigned area then followed a group of slave women back to the slave quarters, which consisted of two giant rooms, one for men and one for women. Each night, the slaves would claim a bedroll from the storage area and find any place on the floor they could to sleep. Other than for sleeping and being used as a place for the Slave Master to issue commands and dole out punishment, the slave quarters were rarely occupied. Slaves spent most of their day and a great portion of their night performing various chores.

  The group of women in front of Neomee halted just outside the slave quarters. Typically if the slaves knew one slave was going to be punished, they would wait out in the corridor until the punishment had been delivered. It was the lone form of respect that the slaves were able to pay each other.

  “Dua.” Neomee whispered her thanks as she passed the women and entered the slave quarters. The large room was empty but for the Slave Master, who upon seeing Neomee enter the quarters picked up his leather whip and approached her intently.

  She knew she should lower her gaze. As the Slave Master inched closer, she managed to drop her chin, but her eyes refused to follow suit. She clenched her fists as her slight frame grew taut with anticipation of the severe beating she knew she was about to endure.

  The Slave Master’s glare bore into Neomee as he side-stepped her and strode out of the quarters without a word.

  Neomee stood trembling, and slowly turned in disbelief. The group of women waiting in the hall peered back at her with rounded eyes from the entryway, their mouths agape in disbelief.

  “I have no idea.” Neomee shook her head as she answered their silent question.

  ***

  The next day, Neomee woke with trepidation seeping from her pores. She’d see him today. She hadn’t slept much the previous night, only dozing off near dawn, but when she woke the first thing she thought of was the Prince Cat. Mortification still seared through her at her gaffe.

  She cleaned and dressed in her simple tunic before running slender fingers through her long hair and re-braiding it. Butterflies were alight in her belly at the prospect of serving the morning meal. I hope he’s gotten over it.

  The Cats were fed three meals a day and the routine was always the same. Slaves were assigned to a designated table and it was their job to prepare for, serve, and clean up after the Cats.

  When one of her fellow slaves made to exit the female slave’s bathing quarters, Neomee lightly touched her wrist, halting the woman who was close in age to Neomee’s twenty-four years. Neomee and the other slave certainly weren’t friends, but it was worth a shot.

  Neomee cleared her throat, “Bast, trade me tables today?”

  The other woman’s brown eyes saucered and she actually snorted before rolling her eyes, “Has you’re brain softened? I saw what happened at your table yesterday. The Cat scented you. Now he’ll begin his stalk. I am not throwing myself in his way.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she smiled and walked out tossing over her shoulder, “Gods be with you.”

  Neomee’s shoulders slumped. She could feign illness, but would rather face the Prince of Cats than endure the Slave Master’s wrath. Sighing heavily, she collected herself and forced her feet to carry her to the dining hall.

  All through the corridor, her lips mumbled prayers that the Prince Cat would have forgotten about her and the infractions she’d committed the previous day.

  Entering the hall she kept her head down and followed the feet in front of her as they led to the far wall where the slaves were lined to wait until the Cats had been seated. Her chin lifted slightly and she caught her eyes just in time to keep them from seeking out the Prince of Cats. Amon, don’t
look! He’s had time to sleep on it and could be angry now that he’s had time to consider the affront.

  It seemed to take forever for the hall to finally quiet enough indicating to the slaves that it was now time to serve the Cats. Neomee followed the procession of women to the kitchen area on the opposite side of the wall. The line of females was speechless as they made their way through, each picking up a platter of food, carafe of wine or henqet—a date flavored drink made from fermented bread and grain—or faience pitchers of water. The platters typically consisted of bread, figs, fish and various fruits and vegetables. Two platters were provided to each table and after the Cats had their fill, the remaining food was taken to the slave quarters and divided among the slaves.

  Neomee watched the line in front of her as two of the other females assigned to her table each snagged a platter. She felt ill thinking of having to re-pour the Prince Cat’s wine, but she exhaled a sharp sigh of relief when the fourth female assigned to their table grabbed a carafe of wine and smiled at Neomee knowingly. Neomee dipped her head in silent appreciation and her teeth dented her bottom lip when she saw how her hands trembled when it was finally her turn to reach for a pitcher of water.

  Inside the dining hall, Neomee approached the Prince Cat’s table. With still trembling hands she tried to steady the large pitcher, but its contents sloshed as she slowly approached the table. She kept her eyes locked on the floor and was exceedingly careful as she leaned around each Cat to pour their water. Each Cat was provided one cup, and if they wanted wine instead of water, they’d simply cover a large hand over their cup when the slave with the pitcher of water came around and vice versa.

  When Neomee approached the Prince Cat she considered skipping his cup and hoping he’d assume she’d become confused and thought he’d wanted wine, but she knew the wine carafe had already gone around and the Prince Cat’s cup was still empty. Damn! She’d already offended him once, she wouldn’t chance it again.

  Leaning in from behind the Prince Cat, Neomee was hopeful that he wouldn’t know it was her until after she’d poured his drink. She was careful not to spill this time as she reached for his cup instead of simply pouring the water into it while it still sat on the table as the slaves were instructed to do. She gasped as his hand snaked out and caught her wrist as she reached for his cup.

  The other slaves continued with their chores, not even looking her way. Neomee froze. She lifted her eyes from her captured wrist to stare at the Slave Master who was glaring at her from across the room. He was clearly annoyed, but did nothing because he could not.

  The Prince Cat slid his fingers back and forth up and down her smooth arm then let his forefinger and index finger rest on the pulse that beat rapidly at her wrist. Feeling the tempo accelerate, Neomee jerked out of the Prince Cat’s grasp.

  “Apologies! I’ll find a replacement that is less…distracting.” Turning from the Prince, Neomee heard a fierce growl before she was jerked back. The pitcher of water crashed to the floor drawing the momentary gaze of the other Cats.

  The Prince had her in his lap as she shoved against his chest without making eye contact.

  The other Cats at the table, disinterested in the Prince’s game, returned their attention to their morning meal.

  “Look at me.” The Prince growled his demand.

  Neomee struggled against him, refusing to meet his gaze.

  “Look. At. Me!”

  Neomee stilled, her breathing heavy. Slowly, she looked up and met his amused gaze with an angry one of her own. Instantly, the odd sensation was back. Neomee could feel it coursing through her.

  She knew she shouldn’t have fought against him, but for some reason her traitorous body never seemed to do as her mind commanded. She looked at him and watched as his eyes transitioned from impossibly dark to a near yellow. Her heart rate picked up and she was mesmerized. He was so handsome, so strong, so virile. She felt small and feminine in his arms, and the way he looked at her made her remember that she wasn’t just a lowly slave, she was a beautiful young woman as well.

  Cradling her in his arms, the Prince slowly leaned in and licked Neomee’s lips.

  Her mouth parted in shock and she bit her bottom lip in response as she felt the atmosphere change in the room.

  From out of nowhere, desire welled in her belly and it was so foreign to her that it actually took a moment to register the emotion. Neomee’s heart raced as she fought to keep her composure. Suddenly she didn’t care what the Slave Master thought of her actions. It was almost as if she’d forgotten that everyone else in the room even existed. She wanted the Prince Cat and that realization was more than startling, it was terrifying. She was a slave and had trained herself over the years to yearn for nothing. The less she had the less that could be stripped away. Now, for the first time in many years she wished she could have something…someone.

  The Prince sniffed her and moaned, “Careful my sweet smelling lily, or the other Cats will want a bite.”

  Neomee tore her eyes from the Prince to look at the other men. Every Cat at the table was eyeing her with the same lust that the Prince had worn days earlier when she’d spilled the wine on him.

  The Prince slowly stood and placed Neomee on her feet, “Back to your quarters!”

  Wordlessly, she dropped her eyes and rushed from the dining hall without a backward glance. Once she hit the hall she ran back to the slave quarters as fast as her legs could carry her. She raced through the room and dashed into the slave bathing quarters, which was the furthest point from the door. The small room housed two long benches and dozens of water-filled jars lined the walls.

  Amon, what just happened? She paced as she wrung her hands together and eyed the doorway praying she wasn’t followed. She rubbed her hands over her arms still feeling the effects of the Prince Cat’s touch. When he’d touched her, her body had instantly responded. Compounding matters was the fact that the other Cats apparently sensed her desire. She dropped her face into her hands and shook her head. I just need to steer clear of him for a few more weeks. The Honoring of Osiris festival was drawing near. Just a few more weeks!

  Chapter 4

  Bray knew he needed to stop toying with the slave. He’d found out her name was Neomee. He’d discovered as much as he could about her from the few sources he had that knew information about the slaves. He’d become “obsessed” as Madu put it, and he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t the truth. For some inexplicable reason he couldn’t leave her alone. He’d had a firm talk with himself and was fully prepared to ignore her at the morning meal but once she’d gotten within reach his Cat surged forth and pounced on its prey. It was almost instinctual and aside from the fact that Bray greatly enjoyed the interaction with Neomee he couldn’t deny that it was distracting and disconcerting in that she was clearly displeased with the sport.

  He couldn’t understand her reaction. He knew he was appealing to the eye and a great catch for any woman especially a slave. That line of logic had him questioning whether she was bound to another. Once the thought was conjured up, he couldn’t let it rest until he had the answer. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he enjoyed feeling.

  He stormed through the temple, knowing he’d find Madu stationed on guard duty atop the thick stone wall that surrounded the temple and the garden plots.

  Spotting his friend he began speaking before he’d even reached him, “Madu? Is Neomee mated?”

  Startled, Madu bristled before a smile broke his features. “Bray! Good to see you my friend.”

  “Is Neomee mated?” The words were bit out from between clenched teeth.

  “Neomee?” Confusion was clear on Madu’s features.

  “From the dining hall. The slave!” Bray’s tone was clipped with impatience.

  “Ahhh, Neomee.”

  Bray could tell that Madu was toying with him. “Madu!” he threatened.

  “Alright!” Madu threw up his hands in mock surrender. “No your slave is not mated, nor have any of the Cats I’ve spoken to ever mo
unted her. Apparently she is fairly new to the temple.”

  “How can she be new?” Bray barked, “The Slave Master is too familiar with her.”

  Madu smiled, “It is said that she is not good at submission. She has been punished frequently since her arrival for various infractions.”

  Punished? The thought of her being hurt called forth an overwhelming surge of anger.

  “Calm my friend,” Madu caught Brays’ reaction. He didn’t get to placate his friend further as a horn sounded indicating that it was time for the noon training session.

  ***

  The late day sun beat down relentlessly on the sand covered training arena of the great Cats of Thebes.

  “Again,” Bray growled as sweat glistened on his hard rounded shoulders and blood dripped from the knuckles of his clenched fists. As Prince of Cats, it was his responsibility to ensure that the Cats were frequently and properly trained.

  “Easy,” Madu whispered through a smile beside his friend, “if you continue to train like this with the men, they’ll stop coming to training altogether.”

  Bray growled. He reveled in the exercises. It was a distraction from his now empty life and it gave him an excuse to get out some of his pent-up aggression. A wicked grin curled his full lips to display even white teeth that shone brightly from his sun-bronzed skin. His silky, long, black hair was pulled back tight into a waist length braid. Dark eyes squinted against the scorching afternoon sun as he pinned his gaze on his retreating foes.

  He watched his two opponents slink back into the ranks of the other guardians, the Cats of Thebes. “Seems they’ve had enough,” he smirked eyeing Madu. “You wanna go?”

  Madu threw up his hands and smiled broadly, “Not when you’re in one of these moods. I know better.” Madu turned his face toward the sun, “You’ve worked them through the mid-day meal. Perhaps you should call it a day.”