Read SanClare Black (The Prince of Sorrows) for Free Online

sooner. Jary wouldn’t be dead, if...
    He bit hard into his lip and tasted blood , but he kept his tears from falling. He was a SanClare prince. He would be strong and make Jary proud of him, no matter what the pirates did.
    His cell door opened outward, startling him. A brief frown creased his forehead as he wondered why he hadn’t sensed the pirate’s approach, but that thought quickly vanished, chased away by his terror. The man who had carried him off now stood over Nylan, a cruel smile twisting his dirty face which was also marred by a very recent wound slashing across his cheek down to the tip of his chin. Jary did that.
    “ Well,” the man said, an unnerving look glittering in his eyes. “All hail the Prince of Sorrows, indeed.”
    Nylan suppressed a flinch at the sound of his royal sobriquet. He hated his prince-name. No Sorrows had ever had a good or happy life, and most of them ended up destroying something before they died. But he supposed this likely explained what was happening to him now.
    “ They never mentioned just how beautiful you are,” the man continued, taking a swaggering step farther into the tiny cell and squatting down in front of him so his face was only inches away from Nylan’s. “It’s all I can do to keep my men away from you. They ain’t seen a woman in moons.”
    Nylan had the odd feeling the man expected him to say “thank you,” but instead, the boy lifted his chin and stared back, playing at a defiance he didn’t feel.
    Though he wished for it desperately, h e had no reason to expect rescue. No one at Tanara would even begin to look for him or Jary for hours, and once they did find Jary’s body, what could they do? There were no wizards at Tanara to cast finding spells. And even if one could be found nearby to help, why would they look for him rather than assuming he was dead? His father had never so much as visited him, and his grandmother was too far away to know he needed help. Still, he knew he must trust in Vail. A miracle could happen. He was a prince, after all...that had to mean something.
    “ Too good to speak to a lowborn merc?” the man demanded, grabbing his upraised chin in bruising fingers to force his attention. “I’m the captain of this ship, if that means anything to a pampered landling prince like you.” The physical contact opened the man’s mind wide to Nylan’s knowing again, but he understood little of what he saw and felt. The emotions were harsh and mostly unfamiliar; the images violent and bloody. He closed his eyes and wished closing his mind’s eyes were as easy.
    The captain heaved himself up, catching Nylan by the arm and yanking him out of the cell and to his feet. His fingers sank into the boy’s arm, pressing more bruises into the soft skin.
    “ No one’s coming after you, little prince, so if you want to survive this, you’d better do as I say. I’m the only one who can save you.”
    “ Why are you doing this to me?” Nylan looked up to meet the man’s frightening eyes. “I’m not even the heir.”
    “ Don’t underestimate yourself, princeling. You’re the Voyan heir—we mustn’t forget that. Not that I care much either way. I’m just doing the job I was paid to do.” The pirate captain eased his grip and reached out with his free hand to catch a stray lock of Nylan’s raven-black hair which he fingered thoughtfully.
    Nylan bit his lip again, fighting back the urge to shout at the man. Never before this day had anyone dared touch him without his permission. He was a prince of the blood of SanClare—not to mention of Voyavel, the most ancient and highest-born family in all the world. It was against the law to touch him. Against two laws, for he was SanClare and a Sensitive. His father would hang these men from the highest scaffolds ever built for what they had done to him. If he knew...if he cared.
    The captain let go of Nylan ’s arm and reached around to undo the clasp holding the boy’s hair back. Freed, his