Prince of Cats Page 3

  Bray’s smile faltered. He knew he was especially sour today, but it was because he’d dreamt of Sanura last night. She’d called to him and touched him, and when he woke without her in his arms he knew today would be extraordinarily difficult.

  Madu sobered beside him, “You dreamt of your mate again last night?”

  Bray’s lips drew tight into a grim line, his eyes giving no hint of emotion as he simply nodded.

  “How long since she’s crossed over?”

  Bray shrugged. He didn’t like to keep track of the days since his mate was taken from him. Doing so meant that more time was passing and with that time her memory was expected to fade as well. He didn’t want it to.

  “The Honoring of Osiris Festival is nearly upon us,” Madu exclaimed with too much zeal. “Perhaps this year you will find a new mate.”

  “I do not want a new mate. I want the one I had!” Even as he spoke the words, Bray knew they were an impossibility. His mate had been killed in their bed while he’d been guarding the temple. All these years and he was still unable to forgive himself for not being there to protect her.

  “Maybe the slave girl…” Madu began but didn’t get to finish before Bray cut him off.

  “Maybe not.” He didn’t want to think of Neomee it somehow felt disloyal to Sanura’s memory.

  “Are you looking for a challenger?”

  Bray turned at the voice behind him. He knew it would be Hondo.

  Sanura’s brother was a mountain of a man, large and imposing. The men, both guardian Cats, had once been as close as brothers but the death of Sanura had ruined not only both men’s lives but the relationship they’d shared with each other as well.

  Bray couldn’t help the flash of regret that shot through him. He and Hondo used to spend hours casting the marked sticks and predicting the outcome with the loser forfeiting possessions. The Priest considered the game an affront and it was highly frowned upon. The Priest called it man’s attempt to seek knowledge of the future and the intention of the Gods. The Cats enjoyed the game in secrecy to avoid forced labor in the quarries, and none of the Cats had engaged in the diversion more frequently than Hondo and Bray had.

  “I am always looking for a challenge Hondo.” Bray’s eyes darkened.

  Hondo’s resentment of him was the result of Bray’s inability to keep Sanura from her untimely death. Bray didn’t need Hondo’s hatred, he hated himself enough for both men.

  Hondo removed his knife from where it was strapped at his hip. Flicking his wrist, the blade lodged into the sand of the training arena with a loud thunk. He smiled at Bray, delighted to battle his most hated enemy.

  “This is a bad idea,” Madu whispered in Bray’s ear.

  “For him,” Bray smiled devilishly and began circling Hondo as his hands curled into anticipatory claws.

  The men circled each other as the group of Cats who’d been training began to form a half-crescent around them. All guardian Cats of Thebes knew of the history and animosity that festered between Hondo and Bray. The Cats jostled excitedly as they jockeyed for the best viewing area.

  A roar went up when Hondo lunged for Bray and Bray quickly sidestepped and slapped his hands on the back of his fellow Cats. Shoving hard, he sent Hondo sprawling face first into the sand.

  Hondo’s head snapped up and he sneered at Bray as he spit sand from his mouth. Bray smiled condescendingly and held up his hands that were now covered in black oil-paint. Hondo quickly looked over his shoulder and growled when he discovered that Bray had smeared the painted on spots that adorned the shoulders and back of each guardian Cat of Thebes. It was an insult to allow your markings to be marred.

  Quickly, Hondo grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it toward an advancing Bray. Blinded momentarily, Bray halted his advance and didn’t see Hondo’s assault coming as Hondo launched himself full force into the Prince of Cats, thrusting his shoulder painfully into Bray’s midsection.

  Bray caught Hondo even as the duo stumbled back and fell to the ground. Still unable to fully see, Bray rolled effortlessly and had Hondo pinned underneath him as he jerked back his arm and curled his hand into a tight fist. His punch didn’t get the chance to connect as a horn sounded from the temple wall summoning the Cats to the temple. Training was finished for the day.

  Bray dropped his hand as the Cats around them slowly disbursed. Wiping sand from his eyes, he stood over Hondo and extended an arm offering to help his fellow Cat.

  Hondo growled and slapped Bray’s hand away. “I do not need your help!” Hondo stood and retrieved his knife before stopping to frown at his enemy, “And we aren’t finished.”

  Bray uncurled his fists and frowned darkly at Hondo. “No, I don’t expect that we are.” He turned and stalked to the temple with Madu fast on his heels.

  “Will he never get over his hatred?”

  Bray shook his head as he swiped the paint from his hands onto his leather kilt. Knowing that to sport the paint of another Cat attained while in battle was a great coup. “How can I expect him to be over it when I’m not.”

  Madu shook his head, “It has been many years my friend. You and Hondo both need to lay Sanura’s memory to rest and get on with your lives. The blue-eyed slave would be a good place to start.”

  Bray’s footsteps slowed and he considered punching Madu in the face for his affront to the memory of Sanura. Instead, Bray sighed resignedly. Madu was right, the problem was Bray couldn’t convince his heart to let go of Sanura’s memory even while the vision of Neomee haunted him.

  Chapter 5

  Neomee’s hopes of steering clear of the Prince Cat were never fulfilled and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t see anything she’d done to encourage his attention, but still he’d grabbed her at the morning meal. Luckily he’d been noticeably absent from the mid-day meal, as had all Cats. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was always followed by a dining hall packed for the evening meal with Cats in the foulest of moods. Neomee cringed at the prospect of approaching an angry Prince Cat.

  Halfway to the dining hall, Neomee turned in the corridor and pleaded with a group of fellow slaves. “Akila trade me tables?” She folded her hands together in a gesture of entreaty.

  Dark brows shot up over Akila’s almond eyes. “No.”

  Neomee shifted her gaze to the slightly shorter slave at Akila’s side, “Kesi? Please? I’ll give you half my evening meal for the next two moon cycles.”

  Kesi rolled her dark eyes and shook her head.

  “Bast?” Neomee’s eyes sought out the woman partially hidden by Akila’s plump frame.

  “You know where I stand Neomee. Don’t ask me again.”

  Shoulders slumped in dejection, Neomee was about to admit defeat when a willowy slave a mere two years older than Neomee approached. “Two moon cycles you say?”

  Hope sprang to life, “Yes!” Neomee couldn’t control the excitement that seeped into her voice. When the thin beautiful slave simply pursed her lips Neomee forged on, “Oh please Sabah?”

  Sabah’s eyes narrowed on Neomee as she crossed slender arms in front of her chest and looked down her nose at the shorter slave. “Make it four moon cycles and you’ve got a deal.”

  “Done!” Neomee didn’t even bother thinking about how she’d survive on half rations until she made her escape, but she was too excited to care. If all goes well, I’ll be long gone before the next moon cycle.

  Sabah shrugged a slender shoulder negligently, “I don’t know what your problem is. The Prince Cat has not claimed a woman and would make an ideal mate. I can’t believe your giving up your chance and half your rations.” Sabah strode past with her nose in the air, “You’re a fool. I’ll take your food and your Cat.”

  “He is not my Cat,” Neomee hissed defensively. Amon, I don’t need this. I’m practically finished stocking my supplies. All this attention isn’t going to help me any.

  “Not anymore,” Sabah winked with a cocky grin.

  The group of women entered the great ha
ll and the atmosphere was charged. The typically somber Cats were unruly and argumentative. Neomee had to flatten herself against the wall to avoid injury when two Cats began fighting mere feet from her.

  Sabah reached back and gripped Neomee’s arm, pulling her forward, “Keep moving! Gods be with us it’s going to be one of those days.”

  The chorus of voices in the hall was nearly deafening but if afforded Neomee the opportunity to whisper, “They’ve never been this bad before.”

  A smile split Sabah’s features as she lowered her head to whisper near Neomee’s ear, “One of the Cats grabbed me from our quarters just before we convened for the evening meal. While he was mounting me, he complained that the Prince of Cats had overworked them during training.”

  Neomee could only gape at the taller woman, “You let one of them mount you?”

  Sabah’s face screwed tight in annoyance, “Do you honestly believe that any of us can stop them from taking what they want?”

  Guilt over her words was quickly followed by pity for Sabah.

  “Oh don’t look at me like that,” Sabah chastised, “I received enjoyment out of it as well.”

  Full of questions, Neomee was just about to speak when another pair of Cats began pummeling each other near-by. This time, the fight was short lived.

  “CLAIM YOUR SEATS!” The command was growled with authority and Neomee allowed her eyes to shoot up to the source, locking on Bray as he dropped into his seat with a dark scowl.

  The Cats followed suit and the noise quieted down.

  Worry gnawed at Neomee as she rethought her and Sabah’s agreement. He’s not in the best of moods today, perhaps I should see if Sabah wants to begin our trade tomorrow. She turned her head to speak to Sabah, but it was too late. The willowy slave was already headed for the kitchen area. As the line in front of her began to move, Neomee quickened her pace in hopes of catching Sabah before she had a chance to exit the kitchen.

  Inside the kitchen Sabah had moved too far ahead in the line for Neomee to catch her attention. Amon! Her belly knotted in fear as she watched Sabah grab a carafe of wine and exit the kitchen with the other slaves assigned to Neomee’s table.

  Simply going through the motions of shuffling through the line and snatching up a pitcher of wine seemed to last an eternity. He has to have noticed by now. How will he react? She was nearly to the doorway when she got her answer.

  A loud roar sounded in the dining hall followed by a shrill scream. The ferocity of the roar caused Neomee’s heart to stutter and her feet to stall.

  A snarl drew her attention and her eyes locked on Bray’s furious gaze. His large hand was clamped around Sabah’s throat as he pulled the other slave along with him through the doorway that led to the kitchen.

  Without a word he stomped toward Neomee and released Sabah, tossing her to the ground. The other slave dropped to her knees, coughing and clutching at her throat.

  Neomee opened her mouth to speak but Bray was too quick. He gripped both her arms and jerked her into him, his voice loud enough for the remaining slaves to hear as they stood transfixed on the scene.

  Bray bent so his nose touched Neomee’s, “The next slave that takes your place at my table will die at my table!” He didn’t wait for a response, simply released Neomee and stalked from the kitchen.

  “You stupid fool!” Sabah hissed as she struggled to her feet. “You nearly got me killed!”

  “Sabah, I’m so…”

  “Save it! Our deal is off. If someone is going to die at his table, it’ll be you and not me!” Sabah shoved her way to the serving area before snatching up a second carafe of wine and storming angrily back out into the dining hall.

  A loud crack sliced the air and Neomee turned to see the Slave Master scowling at her. “Get back to work!” he bellowed.

  Neomee dropped her head and forced her feet forward. What have I done?

  ***

  Bray overreacted and he knew it. I shouldn’t have gone to the dining hall, he self-admonished. He’d intentionally worked through lunch to avoid seeing Neomee. He’d felt guilty about his interest in her after dreaming of his deceased mate, but after training had ended he realized two things. One, he was famished and two, he’d secretly been looking forward to seeing Neomee at the evening meal.

  He growled in frustration as he paced back and forth on the wall overlooking the mouth of the temple. He’d threatened to kill one slave and had terrified his Neomee. He winced, my Neomee? He couldn’t start thinking of her like that, it would only cause problems. Perhaps Madu is right. I should mount her and get her out of my system. But the thought of forcing something so intimate on her seemed wrong. She deserved to be approached respectfully, to be seduced.

  The thought of seducing her brought a smile to his lips but it faded just as quickly. He wondered where she was and if she was still afraid. He’d seen the terror in her eyes when he’d entered the kitchen. She’d intentionally tried to avoid him and that was the biggest mistake she could have made. His Cat saw it as a chance for pursuit.

  He didn’t even want to think about what her attempt to avoid him meant. He’d scented her arousal when he’d touched her, so he knew she was interested in him…sexually at least. But his pride was a little wounded that she wasn’t flattered by his attentions. He was, after all, the revered Prince of Cats.

  Prince of Cats was a title given to the guardian Cat who proved himself most worthy. It wasn’t a royal designation, rather an indication to all slaves, Cats, town’s folk and visitors that the guardian Cat deemed the Prince of Cats was the most well versed in knowledge of the temple, the Gods, in fighting skill, and in tracking and killing.

  Bray hadn’t sought out the title, but once Sanura died he had nothing else to devote his life to so he’d given his all to the only thing he had left, being a guardian Cat. It didn’t take long for him to ascend the ranks and once he challenged and bested Hondo, he had taken the Prince title.

  Being the Prince wasn’t all servitude and dedication. Choice of women, sleeping quarters, station assignment, and being in charge of the time, regiment, and length of training were a few of the perks. More importantly, he carried the respect of his brethren Cats…well, except for Hondo who hated Bray for the loss of his sister and his title.

  He stopped pacing and bent to brace his hands on the wall, staring down at the townsfolk as they milled about the tent-covered vendors trading for dried herbs, fruits, and nuts. From atop the wall, life outside the temple seemed so much simpler. He heaved a great sigh wondering again, for more times than he could count, what it would be like to retire his position as a guardian Cat to seek out a menial existence as a farmer, which was the profession of most men who resided outside the temple.

  It wasn’t typical for a guardian Cat to step down from service. Typically, they spent their lives in servitude until such time it was deemed they were no longer fit to bear the title of guardian Cat. At that time they would be rewarded for their service with a tract of land, small dwelling, choice of mate—if they hadn’t already claimed one—and an undisclosed amount of billon coin.

  In fact, it was so frowned upon to step down from service that the right actually had to be earned. Any Cat seeking to prematurely leave their station was required to defeat five of his fellow guardian Cats in consecutive battles. The task was so daunting that Bray only remembered two Cats ever having tried the feat. Not only had both men failed, they’d died in the attempt.

  Straightening, he forced his mind from foolish thoughts of retiring his guardianship. He had no reason to even consider it. It’d be different if he had a mate, children…a family. Both men who’d died attempting to gain their freedom had done so in hopes of spending their days in a peaceful existence with their mates and children. Bray on the other hand had no mate and therefore no reason to risk his life only to spend it alone away from the temple.

  Instead, he’d stay and spend his life in servitude. His lips quirked, And I shall take advantage of my title to bring my days more
pleasure.

  Chapter 6

  Although no word was ever mentioned of Neomee’s attempt to avoid him, the Prince Cat continued to torment her. He’d grab her during meals to nuzzle her neck or stroke his hands down her bare arms. Her traitorous body would react and he’d growl at his fellow Cats when they seemed to notice.

  She’d approached the Slave Master and begged to be placed on a different station in hopes of avoiding the Prince Cat, but the Slave Master refused. “And I should explain to the Prince why you are absent for his amusement? I will not.”

  At night, Neomee plotted her escape and during the day her belly was in knots wondering what humiliation the Price Cat had in store for her. Worse, she couldn’t deny that some small part of her actually looked forward to his hands on her.

  Some days he simply watched her every move. Most other days, he wasn’t satisfied until he licked her lips or sniffed her hair in front of the entire dining hall.

  The other slaves now avoided her completely. Neomee couldn’t blame them, for she herself had no idea where the Prince Cat’s intentions lay. With any luck, she’d be gone before he could see them through.

  The Honoring of Osiris Festival was mere days away and as it rapidly approached the tension Neomee felt seemed to be matched and amplified by the Cats. Even her fellow slaves seemed to feel some tangible change in the air.

  While the Cats grew more restless and excitable, the slaves grew more submissive and docile. The slaves worked faster and quieter hoping to go unnoticed while the Cats grew louder, more violent, and more demanding. None more so than her Prince of Cats.

  He no longer waited for her to come to his table to pour his wine before he began his harassment of her. Instead, he’d had the Slave Master inform her that upon the slave’s arrival to the dining hall, she was to be stationed and waiting directly at his table.

  Some days he pulled her onto his lap, others he’d pick her up and sniff her, but everyday he touched her, and struggle as she may she couldn’t help but being drawn to him. He made her feel fragile and special and she was fighting to keep from believing that she was.