“Well, Prince, I hate to ruin your burgeoning relationship, but the Nyal government has given her to me. It is just a matter of filing the correct documents.” He reached out to stroke her arm, but she shifted away from him.
It was her instinct to hide behind Kebril, but this wasn’t his fight. “Lord Makadan, I challenge you to a duel for my hand.”
The words dropped into the room with the finality of shattering crystal.
“My, my, aren’t we over confident. Your hearing has not even been scheduled and you are challenging me to a duel?”
She frowned. “You said they had agreed to hand me over.”
“After the messiness of the court case was dropped. I dropped the charges yesterday, and now, I am here to claim my reward.” His smile was vicious.
“I have the right to fight for my honour.” His eyes gleamed yellow with evil humour.
“You have that right, but you will still belong to me after it.”
Horror gripped her, but Kebril put his hand on her shoulder. “Come with me now.” Makadan looked at them with suspicion.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to speak to her. Wait here.” There was no flexibility in his tone, and even the Yinshin froze in his tracks.
Kebril hauled her to an archway where couples stood and giggled in the moonlight. He let out a shrill whistle, and a man in formal garb stood up and took up position behind a flat pedestal with two large grooves inside.
Meena was standing on one side with her arm fit in the groove. Kebril’s was on top of hers, their wrists lining up.
The priest-like man asked. “Do you consent and give to your mate all you are, all you will be?” Kebril nodded. “I will.”
“Lady, do you consent and give to your mate all that you are and all you will be?” She took in the rapt audience and the formality of the words. She consented to her marriage. “I will and do.”
The priest lifted the dagger and sliced down into their joined wrists. Meena opened her mouth to scream, but Kebril leaned down and took her pain into his own body.
As the sharp agony receded, she looked down to see the welling of blood that was coming out of their wrists. To her shock, the blood coming out of her wrist reversed and returned to her body.
Light and warmth ran through her, making her smile and laugh. When he lifted his hand, she flung her arms around his neck and held on for all she was worth. Wild applause broke out, and she kept the kiss going far beyond a decent amount of time.
Kebril gradually released her, and she leaned against his chest. “I didn’t mean to rush this.”
“I am glad you did. Was it because of the Yinshin?”
“Sort of. Being near him made me want to be next to something clean. That would be you. You have never pressed your advantage.” She stroked his cheek, noticing the pink line that marked the mating scar.
“No, I have not, because I am not an idiot. You can’t base a relationship on force. But, my lovely mate, I now can claim something I could not before. The right to your body.” She blinked. “Here?”
There were plenty of couples going at it, but Kebril didn’t seem the type.
He grinned. “No. On the field of honour. Makadan is going to get his ass kicked, and you need only watch. I don’t want you having to get his slime on you.”
She held his hand as they returned to the party.
Makadan cut them off, “Have you had your lovely last time together? Be a good boy and hand her to me now.”
“Hand over my wife? Give a Genaran to a Yinshin? I don’t think so.”
“That bitch isn’t your wife. You had just met.” He was furious, and his scent gland started to produce a noxious odour.
“This princess is a Genaran by our rites. There were twenty witnesses to our nuptials just a moment ago. I wear my mating scar just as she wears hers.”
Kebril held his hand out and showed the mark that all mated Genarans wore. Even Drehl and Rhoda had marks like theirs.
“I challenge you for possession of the female.” Kebril shook his head. “You cannot. By Nyal charter, all Genarans are free.” Makadan grew sly. “Perhaps I could purchase her before the paperwork is processed.” Kebril lashed out and struck the Yinshin right in his smarmy face.
Meena held back a cheer and noticed the deeply interested audience they were getting.
Makadan rose from the portion of floor he had landed on and spit some of his dark green blood on the floor. “I challenge you to a duel.” Kebril smiled. “I accept. Now?” Makadan looked around at the milling crowd.
“In the gardens. Can we get blades?”
“Of course.” He signalled a servant, and the grinning female scuttled off to find the necessary duelling implements.
“Shall we?”
Meena took Kebril’s arm, her knees still weak from whatever the nanites were doing in her bloodstream.
They walked to the gardens with their audience. In the centre, there was a fountain with a projected image playing against the wall of water. The servant walked in with two sabres in her arms and the governor was on her heels.
“What is going on, Prince Kebril?” Kebril addressed Governor Orthian. “The ambassador is laying claim to my mate. When denied, he became insulting, and this is the only way to answer matters.”
The governor looked at her with surprise. “She was not your mate when she arrived.”
“We keep the Genaran altar at this event for just that reason, Orthian.” He lifted Meena’s hand to his lips, and the kiss warmed her.
“Well, if that is the case, Lord Makadan, you had better offer apology.” The governor shrugged.
The offended party was indignant that he was being ignored. “I am owed an apology for an assault. I will have it in his blood.” The governor looked around. “First blood?” Makadan shook his head. “To the loss of one limb.”
Kebril shrugged and selected a sabre. “Which one do you prefer?”
“What?”
“Which limb do you prefer to lose? I would like to abide by your wishes.” Kebril looked magnificent. His black hair was held from his face with two narrow braids that confined it and joined to run the length of his back.
The gold and black he was wearing in the form of a fitted vest and matching leggings with gold lace marching down the outside of his leg was a clear indicator to anyone who wasn’t blind that they were a matched set.
With a howl, Makadan attacked. No polite civility, just raw ferocity.
Kebril moved lazily, counterattacking only when necessary, deflecting the rest of the inbound blows into harmless sweeps. There was no chance that this was a fair fight. Makadan had definitely picked the wrong man to insult.
When he got bored, Kebril moved forward and overpowered Makadan with the fury of his blows.
He nicked the Yinshin’s face, carving a pattern with lightning-like flickers.
Dark blood flowed down Makadan’s face, and he was filled with terror as he lost his footing and hit the ground with a thud.
In the fountain, a vid began to play. The image of her facing off and agreeing to first blood with Makadan’s confirmation of first blood was playing.
It was Noree’s video. She had been hidden in the shrubs and recording the duel. Everything was there, including Makadan’s refusal to accept his loss.
The governor looked from Meena to the ambassador. “I don’t think that you will be useful for your people, Lord Makadan. Either leave right now or lose the limb you have forfeited.” He spluttered, glaring at her. “This is your fault, bitch.”
Kebril lashed out with the blade and slapped him on either cheek. There was a faint glow left behind that told Meena Lord Makadan was going to be wearing those marks for the rest of his life.
“Do not call her that. Do not speak to her again unless the words are apology. You owe me a limb, Makadan. I will remember, and if you set foot on Yacaro again, I will collect.” His lordship scrambled to his feet, looked for assistance in the crowd, but as most of the higher-ranking Yacaro were there and had seen everything, he had no one to stand with him. He ran from the party without looking back.
Orthian sighed. “I am sorry for the distress caused you, Miss. Yacaro is usually much more civilized.”
She inclined her head and took the blade from Kebril’s hand, planting it in the ground. “The most civilized of societies tend to have very violent impulses just below the surface. Some subvert those impulses into sex, but I am not sure how that works.”
Kebril wrapped his arms around her, and he whispered, “I will explain it to you later.”
T
he rest of the party was surreal. Kebril lay back on a couch with Meena draped over him, and they made out like teenagers for hours.
Agheda had found her own likely candidate, and she blew Meena a kiss while she walked out on the arm of a charming Nyal earl.
Meena propped her head on her chin and sighed. “When do you have to go home?”
“Whenever you like. We are now a
we
by the way. It was not just for show.” He muttered, “Though my mother is going to kill me.” She chuckled. “I am ready to leave now.” She bent her knee, and it slid free of the fabric, exposing her gold-wrapped limb to his gaze.
He lifted her so suddenly, she yelped. While he carried her out, she asked, “Do you think he is gone?”
“I think he will have to change targets. He is known now to have no honour, and I am going to force the recording through the courts. He had no right to demand your person, and they had less right to agree to it.”
She huffed. “Yeah, that much I know. The fact that the Nyal court system is so corrupt makes me worry for other Terrans in this section of the universe.”
“You should be worried. You are a very desirable woman, and if the others of your kind are found to be as rare and lovely as yourself, they will be hunted here.”
She scowled and looked around as he settled in the pilot’s seat of his skimmer. With a single push of a button, they were off and on their way back to his home. She wondered, as she kissed his jawline, when she would think of it as her home.
He held her close as they left the capital and cruised over meadows and fields before they passed over the foothills that led to the mountains.
“Why do the Genarans live in the mountains?”
“We don’t need the land to live, so we leave it to those who do.”
She nodded but then had a thought. “Where does the food come from?”
“We trade our skills for the basic necessities of life. Food, clothing, the miscellany of life.”
“Do all the Genarans live so far from the cities?”
He shook his head. “When my parents pass on, the village will move to surround my home. The Genaran villagers stay near their leaders at all times. They draw strength from them, literally and figuratively.”
Her skin was tingling, and she could feel changes taking shape inside her. “What do you mean
literally
?”
“When we live in a community, the leader gives some of his nanites to his villagers. This increases their immune response as well as their creativity.”
“So, the one with the greatest power is given the place at the head of the community?”
“It does seem to come through along genetic lineage. The power that gives Charm the ability to save lives is also apparent in our father and myself, though far less public. Speaking of parents, mine will not be pleased that I rushed things.”
She chuckled and pushed away the fleeting ache that the mention of family caused her. It was better to concentrate on the moment.
Meena curled against him and relaxed, secure in the knowledge that something had started at that party.
When they landed at the palace, Kebril stopped her from going inside. He inhaled and then exhaled, blowing a stream of air toward his home.
“Watch.”
She watched, and a light went on inside the crystal. Inch by inch, the palace lit up, a thousand colours and a million points of light came alive as she watched. She stepped forward as a piece of light came and floated ahead of her.
Meena giggled and extended her hands, cupping the mote of light in her palms. She lifted it high, and it flitted away once again. “What is this?”
Kebril wrapped his arms around her from behind—one arm across her collarbone and the other around her waist. “This is me and how you make me feel every time you laugh or smile at me, when we fight or just speak. This one day I will show you and anyone who cares to look exactly how you make me feel.”
She smiled and watched the lights twirl and pulse in twisting strands that formed patterns as they snaked through the crystal walls. “It is wonderful. I wish I could show you something similar.”
He pressed a kiss to her neck. “It isn’t necessary. Your agreement to join with me is all the proof of affection I need.” She smiled and placed her hands over his, stroking his arms slowly. “Is it?” A soft groan in her ear made her smile.
“Perhaps not. What did you have in mind?”
Meena turned in his arms and looked up at him, stroking his cheek, neck and caressing his chest. She moved her hands over him as slowly as she could manage when a set of instincts she didn’t know she had kicked in. Each hidden muscle group flexed as she ran her hands over him, enjoying the feel of the jerking and twitching beneath her hands.
Her fingers tried to find their way under the fabric, but he was wearing one of his own creations, and it was bonded to his skin. “This is frustrating.”
He smiled. “You want it off, make it go.” Kebril leaned down and pressed soft kisses against her neck before working his way back to her mouth.
She concentrated on her hands, and while she was kissing him, an image of her hands covered with a pale glow came to her thoughts. She moved her hands over him, and the clothing disappeared wherever she touched him. She was surprised that flesh appeared under her touch, but she kept kissing and concentrating as she swept every piece of his form-fitting vest away.
She moved closer to him and cleared the fabric from his back before she cupped his buttocks, smiling as skin suddenly pressed against her hands in the form of his firm, tight ass.
Meena kept kissing him as she stripped him of every bit of fabric she could reach, and with his cock pressing against her, she simply had to kneel to remove the last of his trousers and his boots.