THE CURSED PRINCE: BOOK 1, page 1
THE CURSED PRINCE
By D. B. Watson
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 1
Alone tavern surrounded by dense woods sat on the side of a road that was only found by wanderers, sometimes lost travelers. No matter what time of day it was, the sun never managed to reach the inn because of the tight-knit branches above.
Two travelers approached the two-story tavern on foot. The tall, broad-shouldered one who took the lead was dressed in black and gray, mostly leather in layers with a worn duster cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. He was fortified by a long sword on his back, two handguns in holsters on his hips, and various weapons concealed on his body.
His companion, who came just past the other’s shoulder, wore boots, leather pants, and a yarn top open at the chest in a long coat with a hood where his fair locks spread from.
They moved in silence when thunder echoed above them, then the sky opened up and a downpour doused them.
Both were annoyed but never hurried their pace.
Inside was no different from any tavern. The owner took pride in its cleanliness. Since the only light was from candles, no one was sure the place was truly clean, so they just took the owner’s word for it.
The tavern’s door opened as rain, which was now blowing sideways, entered along with the trekkers. The few patrons there took notice only until the door was shut and then returned to their business.
The new arrivals moved to the bar. They never bothered to shake the water from their garments as they stood waiting.
No one approached them and they never said a word, bringing the focus back on them from the few bodies in the room.
The silence inside was deafening. No one spoke or drank. The only sound was the pounding rain outside that rumbled on the roof.
As quickly as the storm came, it went. The drumming rain slowed to a gentle tapping and then vanished.
The attack came quickly from all sides toward the new arrivals. The smaller of the two stepped out of the way as his companion turned his head to catch sight of the advancing horde. Daggers, swords, and clubs were drawn. All four beckoned to strike their target first.
The advancement stopped when the stranger pointed his two side hip weapons at them with his fingers on the triggers and a smile on his face.
“Excuse me,” spoke a low voice.
Everyone glanced around, not dropping their weapon.
“Excuse me,” the voice said again, trying to sound louder.
“The voice is coming from over here,” said the stranger’s companion. “He wishes to be heard so I suggest we all pause our actions to hear him out.”
There was a pause, and then slowly they all lowered their weapons and turned to the voice. On the counter stood a small goblin, no bigger than the mug he stood beside.
“Hello!” He waved, wearing only shorts and a smile. “I’m the owner of this bar and there are rules, no guns,” he said as a matter of fact, “is one of them. The others are displayed on the wall behind me.” He pointed without turning away.
They all looked and saw a list of ten rules and, indeed, No Guns was at the top.
The laughter came at the stranger’s expense, who turned and looked at the amused crowd.
He glanced at his unfazed companion and shrugged his shoulders, holstering his guns.
More laughter erupted but slowly diminished like the falling rain.
The stranger stood with the same expression he had when they first encountered him. “You all have a bounty on your heads. Do you yield?”
“Nothing in the rules said no sword or club,” sneered one.
“Wrong answer,” said his companion sitting at the bar with the goblin.
Before anyone knew what was happening, a fist connected with a jaw that cracked under its mighty force. Before a sword was wielded, a foot was thrust into a chest, breaking several ribs and sending the surprised victim back to the floor.
Some cunning evading threw his attackers off balance, allowing the stranger to gain the upper hand over all of them. In the end, the stranger was the victor.
His companion took charge to shackle the men, but as he latched the first cuff on the last man’s wrist, the man pulled out a gun, grabbed the companion, and pressed the barrel to his head.
“Now I’m in charge!” he yelled. “Free my men, or he dies!”
The stranger was about to respond when he saw a growing dark shadow looming behind the man.
“You broke the rule!” snarled the voice behind him.
The man turned and eyed the goblin, who nearly reached the ceiling, staring at him. He released his hostage and turned the gun on the goblin, who responded by eating him whole.
Once done, the goblin shrank back to its original size. He walked past the stranger and returned to the bar.
The stranger and his companion dragged the men outside, forming a circle around them in the dirt. His companion removed a card from his pocket and read the incantation in Elvish. The circle glowed, opening a portal the men fell into. Once gone, the stranger and his companion kicked the dirt until the circle was gone.
A few seconds later, three bags of gold were in their place. They gathered their payment and left in the direction they came.
Once out of sight, someone wearing a hooded cloak, with the hood shielding their face, exited the tavern and followed the pair.
CHAPTER 2
After a successful mission, the two mercenaries arrived at a mining town that would have taken them four days to reach on foot. The town called Cyprusmoor, had two forms of entertainment. A bar, and a bathhouse. Both men had their fill of bars so they opted for the bathhouse.
“This is going to be amazing,” said Justin, standing beside his partner while he washed his body and blond hair.
Adam did the same but seemed distracted. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed.
“Adam? Adam!” shouted Justin.
Adam jerked his head toward his friend of ten years. “What?”
“Good question.”
“What do you mean?”
“Where did you go just now?”
Adam turned away and splashed water on his face. “Just working out our next mission.”
“Not now. Now is the time to focus on your needs.”
“My needs?”
“Do I need to say it? You’re back up. You need release.”
Adam gave him a sideways glance before rinsing the soap from his battered skin.
“Think I’m wrong?”
“Justin, you’re young and dare I say, cocky. Sex is always on your mind.”
“Oh is it? Well, what about that forest sprite in the hills?”
“He was—a distraction.”
“Exactly.”
Adam decided to drop it, while they finished rinsing off his body. Adam paid the centaur to clean their clothes when they came out.
“I’m going to the hot spring. Coming?”
“I need a shave and trim first. I’ll join you later.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
Adam enjoyed his face and hair being groomed by the twin male cat folk. He declined when they wanted to give him more attention but tipped them both handsomely. He headed for the bath and caught sight of Justin in a threesome with a tree spirit, a Druid, and a blind rogue monk.
Justin took full liberty with the establishment and explored his expressive side.
Adam wasn’t interested in joining. His mind was on his hunch. He adjusted the towel around his waist and headed where his clothes were being cleaned when he saw wild, light-brown curls halo the most enchanting face he had ever laid eyes on.
He wore a thin robe that covered his slim, bronze body that blazed through the fabric. He entered a room where they performed massages. Adam couldn’t help himself from investigating. He moved closer, peering through a window. His vision, whom he named ‘Mue’, had removed his robe, showing a small towel wrapped around his waist.
Mue posed on his belly down on the table, his face turned from Adam’s observing eyes.
Instead of being allowed to see his face, Adam was treated to the chaotic splendor of his two-tone curly hair and creamy, bronze skin. Adam imagined his fingers weaving through the soft spirals and along his flawless body. He watched while the centaur, whom he knew as Kassane, kneaded Mue’s firm, soft flesh across his shoulders and down his b
Without reason, Adam moved closer, further into the room. Not making a sound, he tapped on the masseur’s shoulder and held out three coins to the centaur, who started to glance from him to Mue stopping himself, and instead took the bribe and left them alone.
Mue kept his eyes closed, seeming asleep.
Adam wasn’t sure what he intended to do. He wanted only to be alone with his Mue. But then what? he wondered. He was crossing a line that he didn’t want to cross. He started to back out of the room when Mue spoke.
“Please keep going,” he pleaded while he folded his arms under his cheek and shifted his body, not opening his eyes. “It’s been so long since my body felt so alive.”
Adam felt possessed by his voice, which filled his senses like a drug. He moved back to him and saw the vessels of oils by him. Adam picked one, smelled the sweet, woody scent rising from it, and wanted to smell it on his skin. He poured some into one palm, rubbed it against the other, then placed his oiled hands on Mue’s left thigh, who tensed from his touch but didn’t open his eyes. With care, Adam slid his fingers along the hairless thigh down to his calf and ended at the ball of his foot. He repeated the technique to Mue’s right leg and Mue moaned his approval.
“You are so good at this.”
“I was well motivated,” Adam said, not realizing he had given himself away.
Mue opened his eyes and glanced back to see Adam. He sat up and grabbed the towel he used as a pillow to cover his waist.
Adam wasn’t sure what to say to the stunned man whose eyes were more mesmerizing than he could imagine.
Both said nothing but wanted to.
Adam wasn’t sure if Mue was terrified; he wasn’t calling for help or throwing a tantrum. “Hey—I guess you’re wondering why I’m giving you a massage.”
Silence.
“Okay, are you in shock?”
But before Mue could speak, an explosion interrupted him.
Adam turned to see smoke pouring into the room.
“Adam!” called Justin, rushing toward him through the smoke.
Adam had to grab his rushing companion, who held his clothes in his hands, to stop him from colliding with him. “Justin, what’s happening!” he asked, yanking his clothes on.
“It’s Hunters. They’re looking for someone!”
“Hunters! Who pissed those highbred jackals off!”
“I don’t know but we got to go. They torture first before questioning!”
“Right! Wait, Mue!”
“Who?!”
Adam turned to tell Mue to come with him but saw that he was gone.
“Adam, come on!”
“Mue. We have to find him!”
“Who’s Mue?”
“He’s—we’ve just got to find him.”
Another explosion caused them to duck while screaming erupted around them.
“If we don’t go, we’re dead!”
Adam knew he was right and hoped Mue found a way out. “Let’s go.” Adam led them out and avoided being seen by the invading Hunters.
They managed to escape being captured while they watched from a distance as the bathhouse was destroyed.
“We need transport,” Adam stated.
“We have it,” Justin responded. “Our contact has a new job for us. All we have to do is get to the town called, Eden.”
“Then let’s get going.”
Justin recited a few black Elvish words that opened a portal.
They stepped through the gateway, finding themselves in a forest, in the evening hour.
“What’s going on?” Adam asked.
“I’m not sure; this is as close as I can get us. The village should be on the other side of the woods.”
“Fine, stay close.”
They ventured on toward their next mission unaware the portal, before closing, was copied by Mue, who followed.
CHAPTER 3
Roaming performers visited the Valdez Palace for the young prince’s sixth birthday. A magician requested an assistant for a magic trick. Patrick wanted to be a volunteer. His parents were wary of allowing their only son on stage, but the magician assured them Patrick would not be concealed during the trick. The king made sure two guards were near the prince at all times.
The magician performed the disappearance of a small black rabbit that he allowed Patrick to hold and show the audience, then placed it in a box. Patrick watched as the magician tossed several powders at the box, saying a few magic words. The box fell apart, showing the rabbit had vanished.
Patrick was shocked at first, then inconsolable. He ran to his parents, crying for the rabbit’s safe return when the magician told the crying prince to look under his chair. Patrick was coaxed by his mother, who saw the rabbit first. Patrick was overjoyed and was gifted the bunny by the magician.
That evening, Patrick couldn’t sleep and wanted to play with the rabbit that he kept in a cage by his bed, only to find it gone. He climbed out of bed and searched for the hare in his room when he noticed his room door open. He peeked out, seeing the bunny hopping down the hall. He thought of waking his nanny, but then decided he could get the rabbit back himself.
He raced after it, gaining ground, when in a flash of light he found himself outside, barefoot, and only in his sleeping gown at night in the woods.
Frightened and confused, Patrick didn’t know what to do when surprisingly, the bunny crossed his path. It stopped and looked at him, gaining his attention. Patrick held back his tears when he saw its fur glowing. He reached for the fluffy, black cottontail, but it ran away.
Patrick raced after it, calling for it to stop when it suddenly vanished. Patrick was now alone in the dark woods, cold and frightened.
He called for his parents, but his voice vanished in the night. He ran back the way he came but only went deeper into the woods. Tears fell as he cried for anyone to hear.
“Do not cry, you are not alone.”
Patrick heard the voice of the magician and turned to it, but saw no one.
“I have a gift for you.”
Patrick tried to speak but found he could not.
***
In the palace, his nanny had woken to check on Patrick but found him gone. She called for the guard, who in turn informed the king and queen. Everyone searched the castle and the grounds to find Patrick. The king joined the search in the woods when he and his guards came across the magician.
“Your Humble Grace.”
“Where is my son?!”
“He is well and in his bed, but I would be wary of looking upon his face.”
Not only did his guards but King Raoul drew his sword, pointing them at the magician.
“What have you done to his face?” Raoul sneered.
“For whosoever looks upon his face will be overwhelmed with desire that only he or death will quench. Heed my warning.”
Before they could advance on him, he vanished.
Raoul hurried back to the palace and rushed to his son’s room where he entered alone, seeing Patrick lying in his bed. As he drew near, an overwhelming desire came over him and he found it hard to break eye contact with his son. He remembered the magician’s threat and fought with all his will to look away.
He ran from his son’s room shutting the door, and locking it. He closed his eyes and backed away, trying to suppress his longing to ravish his son. He saw a fountain and raced to it, drenching his head and face with cold water, feeling the spell break. He sat on the ground crying, gripping the key.
When his queen found him, he told her what the magician said. She wanted to see for herself. He told her the curse was too dangerous when they heard their son screaming from his room. Before the king could stop her, Queen Drusilla was racing for her son’s room, finding the door locked.
“Raoul, open the door! Our son is in danger!” she screamed frantically.
Raoul told his guard to hold the queen back as he hurried and unlocked the door. Inside, he saw the nanny on top of his screaming son, whose dressing gown was yanked up. Raoul rushed in, grabbed the woman off his son, and pulled her out of the room without looking at his crying son’s face. He tossed her to the ground in the hallway and quickly locked the door.
Drusilla watched in horror as the woman she had trusted to care for her son screamed and hollered about needing to taste and hold him.
“Guards, hold her down until I return!” Raoul ordered, rushing to the nanny’s room and moving to the open adjoining door. He listened as his only child cried. He eased to the door, fighting the urge to look in as his desires tried to resurface. He grabbed the handle and yanked the door closed, locking it. He turned to leave when his son’s voice came through the door.
