Mene
"Is it true you took that Terran as your mate?"
Mene gave a weary sigh and turned to face Nals. He had never been good friends with the male, but as often as their paths crossed, they were more than acquaintances. Reluctant friends, perhaps.
"It is true."
"I find it hard to believe that such an attractive female would agree to mate your ugly ass." A good-natured smile spread across Nals’ face. He jested. Still, Mene wanted to punch him right in his smug, handsome face.
Unaware of the danger he faced, Nals plucked a bite-sized morsel of food off Mene's plate. Mene, himself, had no interest in the food but holding a plate kept the more polite people away from him. They assumed he was too busy consuming food to talk. Nals, of course, had little regard for politeness. "My mate will be joining me this evening."
Inviting Rosemary to the gathering was risky, but he itched to be near his mate. He longed to take her in his arms and claim her fully, but just being near her would have to suffice. With so many Mahdfel present, those attuned to their senses could detect that Mene had not claimed his mate. However, with the visible claim mark on her shoulder, the lack of his scent on his mate could be explained as he had been away from his mate for some time.
He could not wait to get her alone.
Mene knew the moment she entered the room. The air changed.
She stood at the entrance to the Council chambers. She wore a simple black dress. The wide neck displayed his claiming mark brilliantly, and the star pendant he gave her shone a brilliant blue. The cut of the dress highlighted all her soft curves, and the hem stopped just above her knees. As she moved, he caught flashes of her thigh. A dissatisfied rumble started in his chest. He wanted to see more of those luscious thighs but despaired that anyone else would see the same. She was his and his alone. He was a greedy, selfish male and refused to share even the sight of her with another.
"She is lovely," Nals said. A warning growl rumbled in Mene’s chest. He did not like Nals looking at his mate or praising her.
Oran joined her, a hand on her shoulder protectively. He inclined his head to her and spoke, pointing out people in the crowd. Mene stood still, holding his breath, waiting. Finally, she saw him, and her joy blossomed on her face like clouds parting to reveal the sun.
"What do you know? I think she likes you." Nals slapped him on the back. "How did you convince her?"
"She did not need to be convinced." She didn't have a lot of options, true, but he did not grovel or beg. He made his case, pointed out the logic of their mating, and she agreed. Everyone benefited. He got a mate of his choosing. She got a husband she knew and remained in the life she made on Sangrin. Win-win, as Terrans said.
"Did you promise her credits? A position? I can think of a few positions I'd put her in." Nals growled in a manner that suggested Mene needed to beat him.
Because this was a social function and the entirety of the Council, both Sangrin and Mahdfel, were present, Mene refrained. He would rectify the situation later, and Nals would regret his lewdness. "Perhaps she likes my company,” Mene said.
"No one likes your company," Nals replied.
“Perhaps she likes my personality."
Nals laughed, not even bothering to hide it. "I forgot how humorous you are, Enforcer."
"Go now. I must collect my mate."
The annoying male snatched a morsel off his plate, shoved it in his mouth with a grin and gave a quick bow. "As you say."
Mene tossed the plate of half-eaten food on the nearest surface and marched toward Rosemary. Her smile widened. He felt all eyes in the room watching them. All evening he had ignored the whispers discussing him and his mysterious, sudden mating. No doubt he would find Nals at the heart of those rumors. The male frustrated him, but his gossip -mongering would work to Mene's benefit.
He intended to leave no doubt in anyone's mind that his mating was valid and complete.
"Mene, I'm so—"
He swept his mate into an embrace, dipping her backward. He claimed her mouth, devouring it and her. She was his. There would be no doubt. She melted in his embrace, responding to his touch with enthusiasm. His awareness of their audience vanished, and his world narrowed to just them, to their hearts beating, their tongues tangling and their breaths merging.
She was right there with him, matching his ardor and passion, not caring who saw. She was his true mate. He knew it with certainty. She might try to deny their connection, but her body knew its mate. She craved his touch, but her heart denied him. It kept secrets. Soon he would convince her stubborn heart and win her completely.
"Oh, wow," she whispered, eyes hooded and voice thick with lust. Her swollen lips, the color of crushed berries, tempted him to kiss her all over again. Or better yet, to find a secluded corner.
"I missed you," he said. "An hour away from you is too long."
That pretty pink blush crept over her face, urging him to find privacy. His mate needed him as surely as he needed her.
A hand brushed his sleeve, shattering the moment. Oran held two glasses of wine and offered one to Rosemary. "Son, let us show off your pretty mate and inspire some jealousy."