Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Forgotten Prince - 5. Chapter 5
.::Taz::.
After Dane's surgery, he was moved to the ICU, so the doctors could monitor him. Taz and his parents had taken turns sitting at his bedside for the next forty-eight hours. Dane had slept through most of those two days, only staying awake for a couple hours at a time.
During one of those brief interludes, Taz had told him of his decision to marry Tepin.
“Dane,” he had said haltingly, “I told Tepin I'd marry him. I'll be leaving as soon as I get my passport.” He chewed his bottom lip as he waited for his brother to reply. He was a little afraid of how he'd react to the news.
“That's great, Taz,” Dane said. He smiled, but it was a sad, resigned smile, making him look older than his fifteen years. Taz hated to see that look on his brother's face.
“But...?” Taz prompted, because he knew there was something his brother wasn't saying.
Smiling sardonically, Dane said, “I knew you'd pick up on that.” Dane looked out the hospital room's big window, as if the mid-morning sun would tell him how to continue.
Taz said nothing as the silence stretched into a minute. He took the time to examine his brother. Dane's hair was disheveled, and his skin was a little pale. He looked tired and sore, but otherwise healthy, considering he'd just had open-heart surgery.
One minute became two. Taz was eternally grateful that his brother was okay. When the doctor had come out to talk to them after Dane's surgery, he had told them that the hole had been successfully closed. Once he was fully healed, Dane should be fine for the rest of his life.
Two minutes became three, and Taz was beginning to think that his brother might not tell him what was bothering him. He was about to say something when Dane sighed. His brother turned away from the window and looked at him. Dane's light brown eyes bore into his own. Taz held his gaze, and Dane nodded, seeming to come to a decision.
“You're doing this for our parents and me.” Taz just looked at him, and his brother continued. “You're going to go off to some foreign country, and marry some guy you don't know, all so you can spare our parents from going into debt.”
It wasn't a question, but he answered as if it were. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you guys,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. And to him, at this moment, it wasn't. “If there's a way I can help, Dane, you know I'm going to take it.”
“What about kids?”
“What about them?” Taz asked, frowning. He wasn't quite sure what his brother meant.
Dane had raised the head of his hospital bed earlier, so that he was sitting. He now leaned forward a little, careful of his chest. His face was earnest as he said, “You've always wanted kids.”
“And?”
“And,” Dane said, clearly exasperated, “if you marry this guy, and he doesn't want kids, then what? You won't be happy if you can't have kids.”
Taz sighed. He dug two pieces of Werther's Original hard candies from his pocket and offered one to Dane. When his brother took the proffered candy, Taz popped his own in his mouth, sucking thoughtfully on it.
It was true that he loved kids. It was also true that he wanted to be a father someday. It was definitely something he would need to discuss with Tepin. However, as long as his family was safe and debt free, Taz thought he could be happy with or without kids.
He smiled, a small quirk of his lips. “We'll work it out.”
Dane looked skeptical, and he had to laugh.
“You know, I find it amusing that I'm about to marry somebody I hardly know, and yet your only concern seems to be if I'm going to be able to have kids or not,” Taz said, smiling wryly. “Aren't you worried about the serious lack of love?”
Dane grinned mischievously, his eyes lighting up like the night sky on Independence Day. “I don't think you'll have to worry about that for long.”
“Why not?” Taz asked, frowning.
“Mom said he came over here with you.”
Momentarily thrown by the non sequitur, he blinked. “And?”
“Mom thinks he has the hots for you.”
Taz just stared blankly at him.
Dane rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “Mom said that Tepin couldn't keep his eyes off you.”
Tepin had been watching him? His heart skipped a beat. But that made no sense, because he had sounded bitter when they were talking about it in Tepin's hotel room. Tepin had seemed to resent that he had to marry him, instead of ruling his own island.
“Are you loopy? Is the morphine making you imagine conversations?”
“I'm serious, Taz,” Dane said earnestly. “Mom said that Tepin stayed close to you at all times. He even had his hand at the small of your back,” he said triumphantly.
Taz snorted derisively. “He stayed near me because where else would he go? This is a hospital; he's not going to just stroll down the halls, sightseeing.”
“I'll give you that,” he conceded, “but what about his hand at your back? That's an awfully proprietary touch. I'm telling you,” he said cheekily. “The man was staking his claim.”
“Oh please,” Taz muttered, his cheeks heating. “That's nothing.”
“You, brotha, are in serious denial.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
“Ow,” Dane said, his laughter almost immediately stopping, his hands moving up to clutch gingerly at his chest. “Laughing hurts.”
“Do you need me to get the nurse,” Taz asked, his heart racing. He was ready to panic, but Dane calmed him.
“I'm fine, dork,” he said, smiling a little. “It's already starting to feel better. I just can't laugh.”
Dane yawned suddenly, a big, jaw-popping yawn that startled them both. He started to giggle, and then hissed.
“Damn it. Not laughing is gonna suck,” he complained.
Taz smiled, his chest tight. He loved his brother. He was protective of him, and he absolutely hated seeing him so frail in that hospital bed. It infuriated him that his brother had to go through this hell, and there was nothing that he could do to make it stop. The only thing making this even remotely bearable was that according to the doctor, he wouldn't have to go through this again after this. Dane could live his life as a normal, healthy teenager.
Taz reached over and ruffled Dane's dark hair. Then he got up from the uncomfortable chair. “I'm going to go home for a bit. I'll get Mom.”
Dane just nodded sleepily as he lowered the head of the bed. He snuggled down under the thin white blanket, his eyes already closing. Taz quietly slipped from the room.
* * * * * * *
“What's your favorite color?”
Tepin looked at him, and Taz couldn't quite read his expression. Disbelief, maybe? Disbelief that Taz still hadn't asked about King and Queen Bakhoun. Taz just wasn't ready for that yet. Maybe he was in denial. If he didn't acknowledge their existence by asking questions about them, then maybe this could all be a dream. A long, elaborate dream. He would wake up, and everything would be as it was, normal, safe.
“Green and red.”
“Like Christmas,” Taz said.
“Yes, like Christmas. What about you?”
“Gray, like your eyes.” Taz looked at him. Tepin was sitting on the black overstuffed couch, leaning forward slightly, his hands clasped in front of him, with his elbows on his knees. He was dressed in his fancy clothes again today; the only difference was that his slacks were black instead of tan. “They're beautiful, you know. Your eyes.”
Tepin blushed, and Taz was struck again by how amazingly attractive he was.
“Taz, why haven't you asked about your parents yet?” Tepin asked, effectively changing the subject.
“Because I'm scared,” he said. He saw Tepin's surprise in the way he sat up a little straighter. He shrugged. “If I don't address it, I can pretend none of this is real. I can pretend that I'll wake up in the morning, and I'll just be me, a normal guy going to college to be a social worker. I'll just be Taz Langley, part time college student, part time bag grocer, full time brother and best friend.
“I'm scared of leaving everything I know behind to go to a country I know nothing about. I'm scared that I won't fit in with the customs and the people there. I'm scared...” Taz let his voice trail off, because he wasn't yet ready to give voice to the real reason he was scared. So he changed the subject.
“What kind of music do you like? And movies?”
Tepin didn't respond right away, and Taz wondered if he would let the subject drop, or if he would persist until Taz told him his real fear.
He looked into Tepin's eyes, and the intensity of his gaze unnerved him. It felt as though he were trying to look inside him, into his very soul. He broke the eye contact, and looked around the room.
His house wasn't as nice as his parents', but it wasn't too shabby, either. He lived in a three-bedroom duplex. The living room was a little small, with minimal furniture and clutter. They had only one couch—the one Tepin currently occupied—a matching chair, a mahogany coffee table, a TV, a small shelving unit, and a stereo system/CD player.
The stereo was on top of the shelf in the corner by the door. The couch was on the right wall toward the middle, the TV on the left, directly in front of the couch. The coffee table was in front of the couch, and the chair, which Taz was perched in, was adjacent to the TV, at a slight angle, so that it faced the couch.
“Soft rock and romantic comedies. You?”
Taz was pleasantly surprised, and he looked at him. “Same here. Any favorite bands?”
“Peppersilk. Crumble Apple Pie and Jokerman Papyrus.”
“I've never heard of the first two, but I love Jokerman Papyrus. They're pretty awesome.”
Tepin sighed, and Taz's stomach churned. Here it comes, he thought. He's going to make me tell him.
“Taz—”
“Are you thirsty?” Taz asked nervously, jumping up from the chair. He started for a set of pocket French doors that separated the living room from the rest of the house, but Tepin's sharp tone had him stopping short.
“Sit.”
Taz sat.
“Now,” Tepin said calmly, “tell me what's really bothering you.”
“But I told you—”
“You told me some of it,” he agreed. “But you did not tell me the real—”
“All of it is—”
“You have not told me the most important reason. Better?”
“Yes,” Taz said grumpily.
“Good,” he said, clearly amused. But then he got serious again. “Now tell me what is bothering you.”
“I don't...” Taz stopped himself from completing that obvious lie. I don't know what you're talking about. He was going to marry this man, and if they were going to have even half a chance at living—if not quite happily, then at least comfortably—he couldn't start their relationship with a lie.
His heart sped up, and a trickle of sweat made its way down the back of his neck. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and then plunged right in.
“What if they don't want me?” he asked quietly. “What if, when I get there, they take one look at me, and then send me back home? What if I'm not what they're expecting? What if I'm just a—”
“What if the sky were green? What if the planet imploded—or your head?” Tepin asked wryly, his lips curved into a crooked, sexy smile. “Do not play the What If game, Taz; you will never win.”
Taz sighed heavily. “I know, but I can't help it.”
He dug a few Werther's Original candies from his pocket. He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth. When he set the wrapper on the coffee table, he held his hand out to Tepin, the other two candies in his palm.
“No, thank you. I do not really like sweets.”
“Do you like caramel?”
“Yes. Caramel, I like.”
“Then you should like these,” Taz said, swaying his hand slightly side to side, trying to entice him into taking one. “Try one. I promise it won't kill you.”
Tepin smiled his sexy, crooked grin, and he grabbed a candy. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste. He let out a soft, satisfied little moan that had Taz's cock stirring, and he had to wonder if he would make that sexy sound in bed. He couldn't wait to find out.
He froze. When had he started planning to get Tepin into his bed? When he had felt the shock of electricity with just an innocent touch yesterday? When he had run into Tepin, Dekklahn, and their guards? Or was it when Taz had very nearly dry humped Tepin to what he was confident would have been a mutually explosive, earth-shattering, simultaneous release?
Taz couldn't get the image of Tepin, flat on his back, hands tied above his head to the headboard as he pounded mercilessly into him out of his mind. He could imagine him chanting his name as he neared the cliff; the high, keening wail as he slipped over the edge. And that satisfied little moan as he floated down from his orgasmic high.
“Taz?” Tepin snapped his fingers an inch from his face.
Taz started, a light flush coloring his cheeks. He had to clear his throat before he spoke.
“I'm sorry. What did you say?” he asked. He shifted uncomfortably, his pants feeling suddenly too tight.
The movement must have caught Tepin's attention, because his gaze dropped to the now prominent bulge in Taz's jeans. It seemed his gaze stayed there forever, but it was really only a moment before Tepin looked back up. His beautiful, storm-gray eyes were dark with desire, and his cheeks were flushed. He licked his lips, and Taz's breath hitched. If they had been sitting closer together, they probably would have ended up in a passionate embrace, heatedly making out.
“I only said that the candy was delicious,” Tepin said hoarsely.
It took a moment for Taz's brain to click on and realize that Tepin was answering his question. He had to clear his throat again before he could respond. Still, he sounded like an inept fool.
“Oh. Good.”
“Now, let's talk about your parents,” Tepin said, all traces of arousal suddenly gone.
Taz's wayward mind snapped back into focus. His emotions raged inside him like a whirlwind stuck in hyper speed. He was all at once scared, self-conscious, and curious.
He took a calming breath, and the whirlwind slowed, and curiosity won.
“Do they have other kids?”
“No. They did not want to put any more kids in potential danger.”
“What are their names?”
“Bakari and Rayina.”
My biological parents are Bakari and Rayina. The thought was mildly disturbing. He had always thought that Stephen and Bethany Langley were his real parents. It felt wrong to think of them any other way than as his parents. But, at the same time, it felt wrong not to acknowledge his biological parents as his parents.
“How old are they?”
“I believe they are forty-seven.”
“What do they look like?”
Tepin smiled. “Go look in a mirror. The shape of your face, your nose, and your height and build are from your father. You have your mother's beautiful eyes, her hair, and her smile.”
Taz felt oddly pleased that he looked like both of his parents. He had always wondered why he didn't look like either Stephen or Bethany—
When had he started referring to them by their given names? They may not be his biological parents, but they had raised him. Loved him.
There was the crux of his turmoil, Taz realized with sudden clarity. He wasn't sure if Stephen and Bethany had loved him freely, or if it was obligation to their sovereigns. He didn't want to think about that right now, so he pushed it aside for later.
“What—” Taz licked his dry lips. “What are they like?” he asked. He was afraid that he wouldn't like them. He was afraid he would like them. Either way felt like a betrayal.
“Your mother rules Hotep fairly. She is kind and matronly.” He smiled, and his eyes had a twinkle to them. “She doted on you hand and foot before you had to leave. I suspect that she will try to dote on you again when you get there. She mothered me, too, whenever I found myself in Hotep, or she in Nefer.
“Your father is more reticent and strict—at least in public. Get him behind closed doors, and around people he trusts implicitly, and he turns into a teddy bear. He was—is—as wrapped around your little finger as your mother.
“Your parents are very loving, gentle souls who were meant to be parents and rulers. And they miss you fiercely.”
Tepin's words sent a myriad of emotions through him. His biological parents sounded like wonderful people. With every word, Taz had felt a little more of his world slip away. He wanted to get to know these people that Tepin had spoken of with reverence. It was clear that he thought highly of them.
“Why did they send me away? Why couldn't they just assign guards to me? Did I do something wrong? Something to make them want to be rid of me?” he asked, his heart in his throat.
“Absolutely not. They did not want to entrust your safety to the guards, because they believed one or more of the Royal Guard were corrupt. They were unwilling to take a chance with your life.”
His answer was plausible, and it appeased some of his anxiety about that.
“So, why now?”
Tepin frowned, clearly confused about what he meant. So he clarified.
“I have been of legal age to marry for five years. I have been old enough to travel for quite some time, as well. Why, then, have you guys waited so long to contact me? And if Bakari and Rayina are so eager for me to return, then why have they not contacted me themselves?” Taz asked, piqued by his new-found uncertainty.
“Well,” Tepin said with a wry smile. ”You have, indeed, been of legal age to marry—here in the states. However, twenty-one is the legal marrying age in our island countries, not eighteen. Twenty-one is when our bodies fully mature, and our magic begins to stabilize. For most of us, our magic is fully stabilized two months after our twenty-first birthday. Our marriage was set for three months after your twenty-first birthday, to give your magic time to stabilize.”
Taz's brows knit together in confusion, and he wondered if Tepin was off his meds. The man was talking about magic as if it were real. Magic didn't exist. Magic was something in fairy tales, something for kids to dream about.
Tepin must have sensed his skepticism, because his eyes widened. “You do know about our people's magic, right?”
“Magic doesn't exist, Tepin,” Taz said, superciliously.
“I see,” Tepin murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear. “Your powers are bound. No wonder...”
“No wonder what?” Taz asked irascibly.
“Ask the Langley’s about magic.”
“Why?”
“Just do it,” he said, tiredly.
“Fine,” Taz griped.
“I will go for now.”
Tepin got up, and Taz almost let him go. But he wanted to know why his parents hadn't contacted him themselves, so he called him back.
“Tepin, wait.”
Tepin turned around and met his gaze. Taz wasn't sure what he saw in his in eyes, but he nodded, and sat back down.
“Tell me why they weren't the ones to contact me.”
“Your mother took ill a few weeks ago and cannot travel. Your father was torn between coming to you, his long lost treasure, and caring for his sick life mate. I volunteered in his stead.”
His mother had been sick for a few weeks? Taz was worried that something was seriously wrong with her. Could it be the flu?
“Is she okay?” Taz asked.
“She will be fine. I believe she is pregnant,” Tepin said, smiling wistfully.
Taz’s eyes widened. “Pregnant? But she’s forty-seven!” He said, his voice raised a little in surprise.
“Indeed,” Tepin said, inclining his head. He caught Taz’s gaze, and he had to mentally fight not to get lost in those storm-gray depths. “Our people are fertile until their fiftieth birthday. That is when our women go into—what is it called?—menopause. The men start shooting blanks. The only exception is if the woman is pregnant on her fiftieth birthday. Being pregnant when you turn fifty is very dangerous to both mother and child.”
Taz was intrigued—if skeptical—by the idea of a whole nation of people turning infertile at the same time. “Why is it dangerous?”
Tepin was quiet for moment. His brows furrowed slightly and his lips pursed. Taz had seen this particular face enough to know that it meant Tepin was thinking. His gaze drifted down to those sensual lips, and his body tingled at the memory of their kiss. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull Tepin into another one of those bone-melting kisses.
“It is dangerous because the body knows it is time to change. In some cases, the body expels the fetus so it can change as it was meant to. There are ways to prevent this outcome, but the best way, obviously, is to not get pregnant any less than nine months before her fiftieth birthday.”
“That would be awful. I can’t imagine how devastating having a miscarriage would be.”
“Devastating is a good word for it.”
Taz popped a Werther’s into his mouth, sucking thoughtfully on the caramel. If what Tepin said was true, and his mother was pregnant, then that would be a plausible excuse as to why she hadn’t come for him herself. He could even understand his father wanting to stay with her. However, he had some worries. Older women tend to develop complications during pregnancy. He didn’t want anything to happen to his mother.
The front door opened, and Connor walked in, his backpack slung over one shoulder. A lock of his short, shaggy blond hair fell in his face; he swatted at it with one hand. He was talking on his cell phone and hadn’t noticed them yet.
“Yeah, that sounds great, Mom. Yeah. Yes. Okay, Mom. See you then. Yeah, I’ll ask him. Love you too. Bye.”
Connor closed the phone and finally looked up. He smiled and, after setting his backpack by the door, he moved further into the room.
“Hey, Mr. Blankht. Good to see you again.”
“Actually, it is Prince Tepin, not Mr. Blankht,” Tepin said.
“My apologies.”
“What does your mom want you to ask me?” Taz asked.
“She and Dad want to see you before they leave, so I’m supposed to ask you if you’ll join us for dinner tonight.”
“Is Elsie cooking?”
Connor grinned, and Taz groaned. He loved Connor’s mother, but she couldn’t cook to save her life. The woman could burn water, for shit’s sake.
“Can we go out to eat?” He asked hopefully.
Connor looked at him for a moment, his expression thoughtful, but then he grinned. “We’re going to Bob Evans.”
“Jerk,” Taz said, throwing a caramel at him.
Connor laughed and dodged the Werther’s.
“I had you going there for a minute,” he said smugly.
* * * * * * *
“So how have you been, sugar?”
Taz looked across the booth at Elsie Beckham. She looked like an older, female version of Connor with short blond hair, sun-kissed skin, and sea green eyes. She was shorter than Connor by a good foot, but her personality made up for it in spades.
“I’ve been okay.”
Taz wondered briefly if he should mention everything that had been happening lately. Before he could decide one way or the other, a pretty brunette walked up to their booth.
“Hi, my name is Mindy, and I’ll be your waitress for this evening. Are you folks ready to order?”
Once everybody had ordered and the waitress left, conversation flowed around him. Taz turned his attention back to Elsie.
“Why did you cut your hair, Elsie?”
“Have you ever been to Florida in the summer, dear?”
“You know I haven’t,” Taz said.
“Well, the heat is unbearable. I cut it off during the summer. I donated it to the Locks of Love.”
“Of course you would donate it,” Connor said, effectively inserting himself into the conversation. “You would donate my brains if you could.”
“Don’t be silly, dear. What would anybody do with a brain as small as yours?”
“Mom!”
Taz bit his lip to keep from laughing, but when Connor pretended to be insulted, he couldn’t hold the laughter in. Connor turned a mock glare at him, but then he started laughing, too.
Then it hit him; Taz was going to miss his best friend something fierce. His chest ached at the realization that he would not be able to just hang out with Connor any time he wanted. He was going to be literally thousands of miles away.
He just hoped like hell that their friendship was strong enough to contest the miles apart.
“Taz?”
Taz looked up, meeting Connor’s gaze. He didn’t want to leave him. He didn’t want to leave anybody. He expected his family to move back to Hotep soon—his parents always talked about going back home someday—which meant he wouldn’t be leaving them.
As he looked into his best friend’s eyes, an idea came to him. Maybe he wouldn’t have to leave Connor behind after all…
- 14
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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