The Claimed: A Clash of Copper and Gold

Bonus Chapter #1: How to Fight a Prince (Scene 1 from Niako's POV)

The first time I met Prince Toom, I was fourteen years old.

He approached the palace with reverent wonder, feet shuffling forward like shoenails drawn to a magnetite. Standing in the shadow of a tree a distance behind him, I followed his gaze to the gold palace steps, marble pillars, proud turrets, and embellished window frames. And for just a moment, I saw my own home as I had never seen it before.

Just for a moment, the palace was beautiful.

Then the prince's eyes locked on the naked, gold-painted Claimed kneeling at the foot of the palace steps, and he froze.

I read the fear and alarm in his stance, and I thought he would run away. The thought brought both relief and an unfamiliar biting sensation I could not name.

Prince Toom stepped toward the Claimed.

"Why are you naked? And what happened to your hair?"

"Oh, Goddess," I murmured under my breath. I pressed the heel of one palm to my forehead and dug the fingernails of my other hand into the treebark beside me, anchoring myself in place. "I'm not talking to him. I'm not getting involved in this."

Toom crouched and waved a hand in front of Gold. Voice both tentative and determined, he said, "Hello?"

"He's not allowed to speak to you." The words spilled from me before I could stop myself. When he jumped and spun toward me, I reluctantly stepped out of the tree's shadow.

Now just ten feet from him, I noticed how the sunlight dappled his messy blonde hair and rounded boyish features. But I was most stricken by his eyes. Though I had assumed the comparison to the Paksha Sea was mere exaggeration, the vibrant blue swirling through seafoam green proved unnervingly hypnotic.

A person could drown in those eyes.

"Why not?" he asked.

When his voice cracked, his cheeks pinkened. I filed this weakness away for later use.

"Because Gold is a Claimed," I said.

"A Claimed?"

"Gold belongs to my brother, Makash." I stated the words with a practiced calm.

"Like a slave?"

I propped an elbow on one hip, eyeing a sliver of bark stuck under one fingernail. "Slaves keep their spirits and identities, but when a person is Claimed, their former self is completely erased. And when the Master tires of them or dies, the Claimed is killed."

"Why? Why would anyone do that to another person?"

Despite the hesitance in his voice, I also heard the kind of brash confidence born of a sheltered life and a lack of imagination. It was almost sweet, really.

I wanted to destroy it.

I glanced at Gold, whose gaze was still fastened to the ground near Prince Toom's feet. "Revenge. Power. Entertainment. And of course, unlimited sex." Then I cocked an eyebrow at Toom, waiting for his reaction.

He did not disappoint. His cheeks flushed several shades darker than before, and he blinked twice before speaking again. "So your brother prefers men?"

I swallowed a smile watching how easily he became flustered. Even pummeling the smug son of the Zarku tribal chief had not been as fun as this. 

"Actually, he has Claimed more women than men," I said. "I'm not even sure he is actually attracted to the men sexually — I think he just enjoys breaking them."

I watched horror play across his face before he squeaked out another question. "How many Claimed does your family have?"

I ran a quick count in my head. "My brother just Claimed his sixth. My father has five Claimed, and my mother has almost twenty. Voracious appetites seem to run in the family."