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With their countries on the brink of war, Damen and his new master Prince Laurent must exchange the intrigues of the palace for the sweeping might of the battlefield as they travel to the border to avert a lethal plot. Forced to hide his identity, Damen finds himself increasingly drawn to the dangerous, charismatic Laurent. But as the fledgling trust between the two men deepens, the truth of secrets from both their pasts is poised to deal them the crowning death blow . . .
320 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 4, 2013
“His gaze dropped to Laurent’s lips. When he forced it upwards, it fixed instead on the earring. The lobe of Laurent’s ear was pierced through with the ornament of his uncle’s lover. It suited him, in the mundane sense that it matched his colouring. In another sense, it looked as incongruous as it felt to tear another mouthful of bread from the flat loaf, and lift it to feed him.”
“It was the earring. Laurent was always so austere. The earring reframed him. It gave the appearance of a sensual side, sophisticated and subtle.”




#1 Captive Prince ★★★★★
#2 Prince's Gambit ★★★★★
#3 King's Rising ★★★★★
“To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.”
“That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.
‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”
“Because a king maker would always choose the weaker man. The weaker the man, the easier he is to control.”
“Stop enjoying yourself," Damen murmured. "We're going to be killed, any minute."
"Giant animal," said Laurent.
"Stop it.”
“To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.”
“That’s right, I’m still captured,” said Damen.
“Your eyes say, ‘For now,’” Laurent said. “Your eyes have always said, 'For now.’”
When laced into his clothing, Laurent's dangerous grace lent him an almost androgynous quality. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was rare to associate Laurent with a physical body at all: you were always dealing with a mind.
“To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.
Never had he wanted something this badly, and held it in his hands knowing that tomorrow it would be gone, traded for the high cliffs of Ios, and the uncertain future across the border, the chance to stand before his brother, to ask him for all the answers that no longer seemed important.
A kingdom, or this.
"I wish it could have been different between us, I wish I could have behaved to you with more honour. I want you to know that you will have a friend across the border, whatever happens tomorrow, whatever happens to both of us."







“It felt, in all the lies between them, as if this was the only true thing.”

From the severe, straight-backed posture to the impersonal grace of his cupped yellow head; from his detached blue eyes to the arrogance of his cheekbones, Laurent was complicated and contradictory, and Damen could look nowhere else.
The warm, sweet kiss had been broken in a moment of promise: the first slight parting of lips, the hint that Laurent had been on the cusp of allowing the kiss to deepen, though his body had been singing with tension. When he closed his eyes, he felt how it might have happened: slowly, Laurent’s mouth opening, Laurent’s hands lifting hesitantly to touch his body. He would have been careful, so careful.
‘You want to take me, as a man takes a boy.’
‘As a man takes a man,’ said Damen. ‘I want to take pleasure in you, and to please your body with mine.’
He said it with soft honesty.
‘You make it sound simple.’
‘It is simple.’
Stirring drowsily, Laurent shifted a fraction closer and made a soft, unthinking sound of pleasure that Damen was going to remember for the rest of his life.






‘To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.’




After no more than a brief, dismissive glance at Laurent, the innkeeper gave Damen his full attention, greeting him respectfully.
‘Welcome, my lord. Will you and your pet require lodgings for the evening?’
‘I want your best room,’ said Laurent, ‘with a big bed and a private bath, and if you send up the house boy, you’ll find out the hard way that I don’t like sharing.’
He delivered the innkeeper a long, cool look.
‘He’s expensive,’ said Damen to the innkeeper, by way of apology.

Laurent finished the morsel, then rested a hand on Damen’s thigh, and slowly slid it upward.
‘Control yourself,’ said Laurent.
And shifted in, until, facing one another on the straddled bench, they were almost chest to chest. Laurent’s hair tickled against Damen’s cheek as he brought his lips to Damen’s ear.
‘You and I are almost the last ones here,’ Laurent murmured.
‘And so?’
The next murmur slid softly into Damen’s ear, so that he felt the shape of each word, made of lips and breath.
‘And so, take me upstairs,’ said Laurent. ‘Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?’
Damen moved before he realised it, heard the sounds of impact and resistance, felt the burn in his veins. His faculties were obliterated by anger. He was not thinking about tactics. That man had laid hands on Laurent, and Damen was going to kill him.
Damen felt Laurent start shaking against him, and realised that, silently, helplessly, he was laughing. [...]
The shaking, progressively, had worsened.
‘Stop enjoying yourself,’ Damen murmured. ‘We’re going to be killed, any minute.’
‘Giant animal,’ said Laurent.
‘Stop it.’
He applied a gentle pressure with his thumbs. He said, ‘You brought me ice, last night.’
‘This,’ said Laurent, ‘is a little more—’ It was a word of sharp points: ‘—intimate,’ he said, ‘than ice.’
‘Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders.
He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving.
And then, at the apsis of his thumbs, a muscle shifted beneath pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Laurent’s back. Laurent said, unwillingly, ‘I . . . There.’
‘Here?’
‘Yes.’
He felt Laurent subtly give himself up to his hands.

‘This is instructive. I’ve seen you put half a dozen men in the dirt without breaking a sweat.’
‘Not right now, I couldn’t.’
‘I can see that. You’re relieved of your regular duties in the morning.’
‘That’s nice of you. I can’t get up. I’ll just lie here. Or did you need something?’
‘Oh, how did you know?’ said Laurent. ‘Take me to bed.’
Damen said, ‘It’s not naive to trust your family.’
‘I promise you, it is,’ said Laurent. ‘But I wonder, is it less naive than the moments when I find myself trusting a stranger, my barbarian enemy, whom I do not treat gently.’
‘I wish it could have been different between us, I wish I could have behaved to you with more honour. I want you to know that you will have a friend across the border, whatever happens tomorrow, whatever happens to both of us.’
‘Friends,’ said Laurent. ‘Is that what we are?’
Laurent’s voice was tightly knotted, as though the answer was obvious; as though it was as obvious as what was happening between them, the air disappearing, mote by mote.
Damen said, with helpless honesty, ‘Laurent, I am your slave.’

The touch he offered was accepted as it had not been last time, fingers gentle on Laurent’s jaw, thumb passing over his cheekbone, soft. Laurent’s controlled body was hard with tension, his rapid pulse urgent for flight, but he closed his eyes in the last seconds before it happened. Damen’s palm slid over Laurent’s warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth.
They were kissing now, slow, intimate kisses, their bodies in full alignment, Laurent’s arms twining around his neck. Damen slid his free arm beneath Laurent, palm travelling over the flexing incurvations of his back. He felt Laurent draw up one of his legs, felt the slide of Laurent’s warm inner thigh, the press of Laurent’s heel into his back.

He felt some sense that he needed to hold onto this, to hold it tight and never let it out of his grip.
You’re mine, he wanted to say, and couldn’t. Laurent didn’t belong to him; this was something he could have only once.
‘You thought of it?’
‘You kissed me,’ said Laurent. ‘On the battlements. I thought of it.’
Damen couldn’t help the furl of pleasure in his stomach. ‘That was barely a kiss.’
‘It went on for some time.’
‘And you thought of it.’
‘Are you angling for an earful of talk?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and the warm smile was helpless too.
‘I lack,’ said Laurent, ‘the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with,’ you could see him pushing the words out, ‘a lover.’
‘You lack the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with anyone,’ said Damen.
Every now and again, Laurent shifted against him without waking. Damen lay in the warmth beside him and felt the soft golden hair against his neck, the slight weight of Laurent in the places where their bodies touched.
[...]
Just a little longer, he thought, and it might have been a mundane wish to drowse in bed except for the ache in his chest. He felt the passing of time like a growing pressure. He was aware of each moment because it was one fewer that he had left.

Stirring drowsily, Laurent shifted a fraction closer and made a soft, unthinking sound of pleasure that Damen was going to remember for the rest of his life.
And then Laurent was blinking sleepily, and Damen was watching Laurent grow aware of his surroundings and come awake in his arms.
He wasn’t sure how it would be, but when Laurent saw who was beside him, he smiled, the expression a little shy but completely genuine. Damen, who hadn’t been expecting it, felt the single painful beat of his heart. He’d never thought Laurent could look like that at anyone.
‘I intend to survive, I intend to beat my uncle, and I will fight with every weapon that I have.’
He had come to this fort a slave. He would ride out of it Damianos of Akielos.
4,5 'Captive Princes' stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐/⭐
5 'A kingdom or this' stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
5 'Our both babies are kingly!!' stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
4 'Much deserved HEA' stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐





