Page 4 of Taken By the Barbarian King

Spoiled brat. I throw it again.

Might as well enjoy this now while I can. Who knows what other pleasures I'll have to give up when we get back to Aysgoth? What kind of pleasures I'll be denied after my nuptial ceremony is complete?

My father and grandfather, my commanders, and anyone who's been married reassure me that nothing has to change. We're still men and we can still do what we want. But I've seen all of them change. I've seen them reject things they used to enjoy and I know—I know it in my bones—that it's all because of their women.

Damned tradition.

Why can't I rule my planet as a single Aysgarthian? Why do I need a woman? What does that prove? Congratulations, Thundar, you can successfully abduct a woman. Big drakking deal.

Five minutes pass and I force Hailmak back to his daddy's room via the ducts. The wenches will be here at any second.

My ceremonial robe is hanging next to the bed. Pure white and heavily embroidered, it covers me from head to toe. I snarl as I pull it over my shoulders and fasten the clasps. It’s heavy. And itchy. And restrictive. I hate it. We, Aysgarthians, barely ever cover our bodies for any occasion but for some reason, the isolation interlude is where we draw the line? We’re supposed to be draking the whole time, for drak’s sake.

Stupid traditions.

The wenches arrive right on time. They're also dressed in the white ceremonial cloth and I roll my eyes as they escort me to the mating chambers.

Hailar and the rest of my men stand in formation outside the doors of the mating chambers. If we were on Aysgoth, my parents, the royal council, and the entire aristocracy would be in attendance to witness the beginning of the isolation interlude. Because it is so important for everyone to know what I’ll be doing for the next five days.

The wenches turn to face me and as one, they bow.

"Your Brutal Highness, she awaits," says one of them and the door opens.

Five days. Locked in a room with the human woman with nothing to do but eat, sleep, and drak. That’s not so terrible. Besides, what is five days? It’s nothing. A blink in the epic timeline of my reign. I can survive five days. I am Thundar.

I huff and grit my teeth before stepping across the threshold. Then the door closes behind me for good.

"Who… who the fuck are you?" says someone at the corner of the room and I take a deep breath as I set my eyes on her.

She's tiny. So tiny, I fear I might crush her just by looking at her. Her hair is mylk brown, and her skin… her cheeks are so pink and light I fear for her health.

But no, that's just what some humans look like, or so I’ve been told. I don't know much about them, to be fair. I never had much interest in the primitive planet she's from. But no one's ever mated a human before, so when the royal council informed me I needed a strong candidate to strengthen my claim to the throne, Earth was the first place that came to mind.

"I don't know who The Fuck is but I'm Thundar, Crown Prince of Aysgoth."

The human grimaces and takes several steps forward. Bold of her. Disrespectful, even. But she is an alien, so I will forgive her for not understanding our traditions.

"Why am I here? Why did you kidnap me?"

I pause and tap my temple. Is my translator malfunctioning?

"Are you a kid? I assumed we were abducting an adult female human. Are you a goat?"

"What the fuck? Did you just call me a goat?"

Here we go with this The Fuck again. Who is she referring to?

"I did not. You said we kidnapped you. Isn't that a term for abducted baby goats?"

The human lets out a growl that is actually quite impressive. I wasn’t aware that humans were capable of growling. She lifts her hands, fingers stabbing through her hair. The wide sleeves of her robes fall to her elbows, revealing more of that pink skin. So strange. So fascinating.

"Oh my God. What have I gotten myself into? No, I'm not a baby goat. I'm human. Kidnapping is what you did to me. You know. Abduct. Taken. Captured. Are you an idiot?"

I narrow my gaze on her and purse my lips.

"No. I'm a Prince."

She huffs. "Well, the two aren't mutually exclusive."

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