CHAPTER THREE

 

The Feast of the Three was a spectacle unlike anything Mindrin had ever seen. Mouthwatering scents of spices and exotic dishes filled the air. A circular stage in the center of the room was filled with fire dancers, electric light acrobats, and sword jugglers. The music was lively, backed by a compelling beat that had her moving a little in her seat because it was so catchy. People were dancing in a space cleared in front of the mar’don musicians as they played a side stage. The rest of the main temple hall was filled to near overflowing with members from each delegation, guests, security, and media. What looked like over a hundred servers busied themselves making sure the drinks flowed freely and the food was hot and plentiful.

Mindrin sat at the main table, on a raised dais, with Prince Valdur on her right and Prince Tyal on her left. Water candles floated in golden stands along the table. Dedicated servers brought them food and filled their cups. As much as she tried to hide it, she was a nervous wreck, especially with the spotlights and cameras trained on the three of them. She clenched her hands to avoid biting her nails—an old habit she thought she’d beaten long ago. Her stomach felt like twisted coils of optic cable. Even though her mouth watered with every dish they placed in front of her, she only ate a little of each because she didn’t trust her stomach.

Tyal leaned close so she could hear him over the music and conversation humming in the room. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how stunning you look this evening, Ishtali. The most beautiful female in the room, and I’m not simply saying that because you’re mine.” His smile was charming but there was also heat behind it. “I admit, it is difficult for me not to stare.”

Warmth rose to her cheeks. “Thank you. You…you look great yourself.” She winced. That didn’t sound like something a fancy lady would say. Even though he was grinning at her, she had to try again. “I mean, you are quite handsome. And I love your outfit.”

Better, but she was going to have to work on it if she was going to be attending these kinds of parties as the wife of two princes. It seemed more difficult and tedious than rebuilding a breaker coil from the core on up, but she had to remind herself this was her life now. And Tyal really did look mouth-wateringly gorgeous. So this life certainly wasn’t without benefits.

Tyal smiled at her compliment. “Your words mean much to me, although I am but a moon reflecting the radius of your sun.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed aloud at that one because it was so over the top.

He didn’t seem offended by her laughter. In fact, he flashed her a charming grin. “Your dress really brings out the color in your eyes. You are beautiful.”

She could read the heat in his eyes as his gaze traveled along her body. She felt her blush spreading, but his bold words also thrilled her. Having a small army of beauticians who could work wonders certainly did much for a girl’s confidence. All the time she’d spent in a chair had been worth it when Tyal and Valdur arrived to escort her to the feast. The flare of raw desire in their eyes had set her heart to pounding fast and slickened her down below with her own surge of desire.

Mindrin especially loved the dress. Her attendants had told her the dress she wore was some designer number from one of the core worlds known as a fashion trendsetter in the Terras Alliance. She didn’t know one way or another, but as they altered the dress to fit her, she transformed in front of the mirror. It showed more cleavage than she was used to, bared most of her back, and kissed along the floor when she stood, but the venkose silk felt and looked divine, the dark blue and rich purples complimented her skin tone and her eyes, and the dress’s lines only served to flatter her figure. All of which meant that her heart rocketed into the air when she met her mates again and their eyes widened and desire they didn’t bother to hide burned in their eyes. For a moment she suspected both of them were considering dragging her into the bedroom and tearing the dress right off again and ignoring the feast entirely. They kept themselves under control, but knowing she’d had that effect on them made her feel beautiful and powerful and desired. It made her hot, her nipples tightening, and her pussy growing slick with her own desire. To see their raw attraction barely held in check had her head spinning, and that heat hadn’t left their eyes, even as they’d taken their seats and the feast began.

Valdur was watching her as well, a frown on his face. “Prince Tyal speaks truly, though his words are prettier than my taste. I have no such eloquent compliments for you, wife. But I am honored to have you at my side, a partner in peace for the galaxy, facing our duty together.”

She swallowed and tried to collect her thoughts. Valdur’s words had been almost shockingly blunt. Even though they hadn’t touched that feminine core of her in the same way Tyal’s had…they affected her just as deeply in another way. His words weren’t simply about how she looked, but praising her for doing the exact thing that had kept her from trying to flee the temple and swim to the next closest floating city. A duty that had been thrust on her only hours ago, but one that was extremely important to so many people. She nodded slowly, holding his gaze, hoping he could tell how much she appreciated his words as much as she’d appreciated Tyal’s.

Tyal, smiling, lifted his glass. “An ancient human custom is to toast sentiments we value. To beauty, duty, and peace.”

Valdur eyed him as if uncertain whether the other prince mocked him. But Mindrin quickly lifted her glass and gave them both her best smile. Valdur seemed to relax and nodded. All three of them touched glasses and drank.

The first course was brought out to eager murmurs from the crowd. The attendants served her first out of everyone in the room. A trickle of cold sweat ran down her back as they placed a bowl of some kind of purple soupy liquid brimming with vegetables in front of her. All this attention still had her rattled and self-conscious, and she’d probably never get used to it. Her mind felt blank, what thoughts she did have felt slippery like fish she couldn’t quite catch. She stared at the bowl and what seemed like half a dozen gleaming silver utensils. She couldn’t remember which eating utensil they’d told her was proper to use for soup-like dishes. A few of the utensils had such a strange shape she was afraid to try them out for fear of looking like a fool. Or proving it to everyone in the room.

Tyal reached out and touched her hand. His blue-silver skin was very warm, warmer than hers, and she loved the elaborate symbol patterns tattooed on his arms. She turned to meet his bright blue eyes. His smile was friendly, even tender, and he gently guided her hand to rest on a particular spoon from the selection. Anyone looking would’ve mistaken his contact for a simple display of affection, but she realized he’d noticed her hesitance and was helping her out.

Her cheeks heated in a blush. She bit her lip. “Thank you.”

A dizzying array of food was placed on their table and swept away. Even limiting herself to only a few bites from each, she quickly began to feel full. Tyal had slowed as well after the main entrees were served—traditional danzi fruit and nodosh boar roasted and covered with a tart wine sauce or dishes of grilled cuttesh fish on a bed of fluffy white seeds that seemed to melt in the mouth. They were so busy eating and watching the entertainment, they didn’t speak much. Although Valdur She seemed to recall mar’don had huge appetites, but it was staggering to see just how much food he put away without pausing.

She glanced at Tyal and noticed he was watching her with an amused expression on his face, as if he’d guessed her thought. But what he said aloud was, “I would be honored if you would share a dance with me.”

She nearly spit out the mouthful of food she’d been chewing. She managed to swallow it with an audible gulp. “I doubt I would be graceful dancing in these heels and this dress. I might embarrass everyone enough to start a galactic war when I fall over and tear it.”

That was a wince-worthy joke she wouldn’t have made if she hadn’t been caught off guard, but Tyal laughed, which boosted her confidence…and made her like him even more. How foolish was that? Liking a male because he had to good sense to laugh at your jokes? And yet she couldn’t deny her feelings.

“Somehow I don’t think dancing with my new bride will cause an intergalactic incident.” His grin widened. “But I’m willing to risk it for a woman so breath-taking.”

His grin was gorgeous, one of the things about him she was quickly coming to appreciate. It was so warm and open…and yet mischievous. She paused, wondering how to reply. Wondering if she should temper her words and or be who she really was. Prince Tyal and Prince Valdur believed she was Lady Ishtali, their perfect mate, not some grease-monkey robo-scrub. But that didn’t mean she needed to display the personality of a dead fish, did it?

So she took a chance and said what she wanted, not what she thought they should hear.

“It took an army of beauticians working for hours to get me to this stage,” she said. “I think they declared a state of hair and makeup emergency, complete with alarm sirens.”

He laughed. A warm thrill seemed to flare in her chest at the sound. She swallowed again even though her mouth was empty and felt really dry. Quickly, she took a sip of her drink—a famous mar’don spice wine called laqu.

“You have a talent for exaggeration,” he said. “I’ll share a secret with you. It was quite a shock when I saw you again, dressed as you are now.”

She froze, watching his face. “What do you mean?”

His smile was non-threatening. “It was such a dramatic change from your wedding attire. I admit, my studies had led me to expect you to wear something quite different for the ceremony than a…jumpsuit, is it called?”

“Um. Yes.” Oh crap. She’d been waiting for someone to bring this up. So far the Terras Alliance security had kept the media at bay, but what was she supposed to say to Tyal? “Where I come from, getting married in a jumpsuit is a traditional symbol of…strength?” Her cheeks began to heat. She was terrible at imagining cover stories. She would never make it as a spy.

Surprisingly, Valdur settled his huge hand over hers and gave her a gentle squeeze. She turned to meet his serious expression. Even though he was striking—and she loved how the sunset colors of his skin perfectly complimented hers—she couldn’t help but wonder if he ever relaxed and smiled. He seemed to be in full warrior mode all the time.

“Symbols of strength are to be admired,” Valdur told her. “The mar’don carry their kardev blades as a symbol of their honor and power. I think there is much in common between us.”

She bit her lip, only answering with a nod.

“So will you dance with me?” Tyal asked.

She didn’t see any way to get out of it without making things even more awkward or offending him. “I would love to.”

Tyal took her arm and led her down from the dais. She was getting better at these heels, but she still wasn’t one hundred percent confident. The crowds parted as he escorted her over to where the stage was and took her in his arms. The music was faster than she’d expected, but he only looked into her eyes and calmly said, “Follow my lead.”

She thought that was easier said than done, but when he began to move, she was delighted to find herself moving along gracefully with him. The room whirled around them, but all she could see were his striking blue eyes, both piercing and strangely kind. She had the sensation that he would never let her go, never let her stumble and fall. That his arms would hold her and keep her safe forever. That he took as much happiness from her pleasure as she experienced as the dance went on.

When the dance was over, she felt exhilarated. The applause startled her, and she began to blush as she looked around at the guests and cameras that had been focused on them. Valdur was standing there, looking impressive in his dress uniform.

Tyal escorted her over to him. Valdur bowed to her. “I wish to dance with you.”

She bit her lip to keep her a surprised laugh in check. He was so different from Tyal, so blunt it was both surprising and refreshing. The big mar’don prince took her in his arms as another song began. Maybe it was their difference in height or her inexperience in these kinds of heels, but their first few dance steps were awkward. She began to sweat, afraid she was going to make a fool of herself and him, but after she stepped on his foot for the second time, he caught her up in his arms. She gasped, but he merely danced with her, easily holding her against him but not too tightly, while her heels swung a good foot off the ground. The powerful muscles in his arms bulged as he kept her aloft and spun her faster around the room. His eyes remained intense, but the very corner of his mouth turned up in the slightest hint of a smile. She knew she should’ve been embarrassed by this huge alien swinging her around so effortlessly to the music, but instead she found herself laughing with every new turn, new whirl. Valdur might have been large and strong, but he could dance like nobody’s business when he set his mind to it.

When the song finally ended, Valdur set her down again and bowed. The crowd applauded even louder, and she looked out on a sea of smiling faces. Then he presented her with his arm and escorted her back to the dais. She was a little breathless as she took her seat again, her heart pounding fast, but she couldn’t deny it had been fun. And certainly not something she’d ever forget.

Her life had turned into a rocket ride. It was all she could do to hold on.

 

* * *

 

All celestri of the noble high bloodline were highly attuned to the emotions of those around them, and Tyal had spent years heightening the skill. It was a talent they called ajasa, which could be roughly translated as “knowing.” It had served the ruling family well for a thousand years, allowing them an advantage over other celestri whose perception and ability to read others was sharper than a mar’don or human, but not as sharp as someone blessed with ajasa. It had helped keep them in power and maintain harmony across the planets. Now Prince Tyal found himself relying on it heavily to navigate his relationship with his two new mates.

His ajasa had proved invaluable so far. When he’d sensed his new bride’s reluctance to dance, he’d understood the reason. And when she’d trusted him enough to say yes, he’d used the ajasa to help lead her flawlessly through the steps, their intertwined auras allowing him to guide her with both his body and his mind. The swell of pride and delight in her when she’d danced so well had become his pride, his delight, when he shared it with her. Making her feel good about herself gave him a pleasure he hadn’t expected, different from the pleasure of holding her close, feeling her breasts pressing against him, her curves under his hand—different but just as intense.

Sitting beside her again as the mar’don feast wound down, he couldn’t help but steal glances at her face. He admired her high cheekbones, those expressive violet eyes that seemed to reveal everything she felt so that his ajasa was barely necessary. He found her beautiful and compelling…and mysterious. He thought back to the moment he’d first seen her, when all he’d known and all he’d expected had veered wildly off course into black hole territory.

True, she’d been prettier than he’d dare hope, with pale, unblemished skin, and long, black hair twisted into a surprisingly utilitarian braid. Her female shape was alluring and tempting, immediately stirring the deep ache of lust in his groin despite the odd outfit she’d been wearing. He couldn’t remember the last time his body had reacted so strongly to the first sight of a female, and a human one at that. That boded well for their bonding. But even from across the platform, he’d been able to sense her fear and tension. He hadn’t needed ajasa at all to read her. She’d radiated her emotions with the force of a supernova. He didn’t understand it—not completely. The humans had claimed the bride they presented was a “perfect” choice by their most powerful mainframes, taking into consideration a staggering amount of data and formula. If that was the case, why did it feel as if his bride hadn’t been adequately prepared for the very ceremony she’d been chosen for?

Like he’d said. Mysterious. And mysteries always inspired him to chase after the truth.

He leaned back in his chair enough so he could see Ishtali and Valdur without making them uncomfortable about being watched. His bride had a huge grin on her face as she watched the main stage in the center of the massive room. On the stage, mar’don sword warriors spun and danced and juggled their blades while leaping around, kicking and dodging in an elaborate fighting ritual set to lively music. The act was impressive, if not typical, mar’don entertainment. Right now he was more interested in his new mates…and mostly Ishtali, whom he’d known nothing about only this morning thanks to the rules of the accords.

Although he wasn’t even certain Ishtali was her true name. Usually when he spoke a name in the presence of the person it belonged to, he felt a wash of connection, emotion, and history between the spoken name and the physical person. It was difficult to explain, but names had power, and speaking them activated the power. But whenever he used Ishtali’s name in her presence, he felt nothing of the sort. No emotion, no reaction, no connection—not to that name anyways. It was beyond odd. But why would they give a false name in the first place? It wasn’t as if he’d known anything about the bride he was to marry before the ceremony began. He’d first laid eyes on her only minutes before they’d been mated and stone-bonded, the three of them forging a symbolic alliance charged with maintaining the peace between civilizations…

As if his thoughts of her caught her attention, Ishtali turned to look at him with those big, violet eyes that seemed both guileless and animated. “Do the celestri have wedding feasts like this?”

He smiled. “We do. Only the celestri ceremony is called desalla mon, or sacred stone, and the male and female to be married eat first, before all others. Then there is singing and stories of the newly stone-bound lovers.”

“I’d love to see that too,” she said. “This mar’don feast is great though. It’s so big, loud, and vibrant. So many things moving around it makes my head spin.”

As she spoke, a wash of her emotions hit him. Excitement, curiosity, and beneath those, fear, lingering like a layer of cold water in the ocean. He’d been trying to set her fears at ease all night, but at least the wild mar’don theatrics had distracted her from a few of her worries. At least for a while. The emotions he sensed from Valdur were simpler. Pleasure, sated hunger after all he’d eaten, but also a building lust for their shared bride. Tyal could certainly understand that—his own cock had been uncomfortably stiff whenever he’d let his gaze linger a little too long on her cleavage, her perfect lips. The mar’don prince was also pleased things had gone so smoothly and that he’d fulfilled the duty he was born to.

She leaned back in her chair and looked from him to Valdur, a smile on her lips. “This was certainly fancier than I ever—” Her smiled faltered, and he sensed her sudden alarm, as if she’d almost said something she shouldn’t have. “I mean, it’s more energetic than they told me.” Her smile came back twice as bright, but he got the sense it was mostly forced. “So, how does it feel to be married? I’ll be honest, it’s really blowing my mind right now.”

Valdur nodded. “Our feasts and foods can be a little intense for those who are not mar’don.”

Tyal did his best not to laugh or shake his head. The mar’don prince had completely missed her point, but he supposed it wouldn’t be the last time he got something wrong. Instead, he led in with a story, hoping to ease her tension. While he and Valdur had known from a very young age their lives were headed toward this moment, the continuation of the accords that had led to decades of peace, he definitely had the feeling she had been nowhere near as prepared for this.

“I used to tease my mother about marrying one of the palace guards,” he said. “We’d hijack a celestri warship and head for the outer rim. We’d live there happily, mining asteroids and producing dozens of offspring.”

She smiled, and when she did her entire face lit up. A surge of attraction, desire, and warmth spread through him, surprising him with its raw strength. That she could pull those feelings from him with only a smile… What was it the human’s said? Yes, he could easily see himself losing his heart to her and those smiles.

“You told your mother…the queen…that you were going to elope with a guard? That sounds crazy enough to be true.”

He placed his hand over his heart and donned his most serious expression. “I swear on my family’s name. She threatened to disown me and exile me from the palace if I ever did so.”

He’d meant to keep her spirits high, so he was surprised when a look of genuine dismay crossed her face, followed by a wash of sadness and distress his ajasa could not miss. Those emotions surprised him, had him wondering if he would ever be able to read his new bride well.

But even Valdur stopped watching the blade dance to look Tyal’s way. Mar’don were harder to read than humans, but Tyal sensed the prince was curious himself. Which also wasn’t what he’d expected. What he’d expected was to be tolerated by the mar’don prince for the sake of the treaty. After all, the mar’don weren’t always the most expressive—or friendly—people in the galaxy.

Ishtali reached out and touched his arm. Immediately, his heart began to beat faster, and his cock twitched at her touch, at the warmth and softness of her skin. Part of him yearned to experience more of that warmth. Wanted to bury himself deep in her heat and claim her as his own. He had to steady himself and shut down his rapidly flaring desire. That would be for later, when she was ready, when he had her trembling with desire, ready to give herself to him completely.

“Was your mother serious when she threatened to exile you?” Ishtali asked, her violet eyes wide. “Would she really have exiled you?”

He chuckled. “Never. My mother and I have a very relaxed relationship. We’re always trading jests. It annoys my father, but he’s usually more concerned with what my older brother is doing. Being the heir is not as much fun as being the second prince.”

He cast a glance at Valdur, trying to judge the effect of his words and see if they could find common ground over their shared status as second princes. Valdur only grunted and raised his glass to his lips, although the mar’don’s emotions were mixed. More devotion to duty, more single-minded focus, and a tinge of regret, which Tyal found curious. Was that regret for the wedding or for something else? Tyal could not blame the other prince if he harbored some doubts and reservations. Mar’don were very protective of their mates, and celestri formed lifelong bonds, reinforced by the pashrondal stone, so this three-way relationship was not ideal according to standard ways. But they were also royalty, and standard ways did not always apply. Besides, Tyal’s two uncles and his human aunt had always seemed so happy and in love whenever he’d seen them together. The threesome had been beloved of the media in all three civilizations. Celestri worlds had mourned for months when Lady Rikari had finally succumbed to old age. And that had led directly to this moment where the next generation locked in the peace they’d enjoyed for another cycle.

The main show and the music had ended. Ishtali applauded, then pumped her fist in the air and made a whooping noise that had more than a few amused or surprised looks cast their way. Tyal couldn’t help but grin. His little human was certainly vibrant. And energetic. He hoped she proved as energetic when he stripped her bare of that dress and finally got his hands on her naked body. As her skin was so pale, he couldn’t help but wonder what color her nipples would be. Pink? Darker? And lower down, would she be pink there as well, pink and wet and ready for his tongue, his fingers, his cock? He wanted her breathing hard, her body overwhelmed with all the pleasure he intended to give her. He wanted her feeling bliss, feeling cherished and desired and utterly sated. He wanted his name on her lips as she quivered around him. He wanted to drive away any doubt she had, pleasure away any lingering fear. He wanted to say her name as he came inside her.

But not if her name wasn’t really Ishtali.

The servants cleared away the main course and brought them dessert. The mar’don dish was strangely spicy, yet cold and creamy and sweet. It was a striking combination of flavors that surprised him.

“Oh stars, this is great!” Ishtali said, shoving another spoonful in her mouth. “I could eat an entire freighter full.”

Valdur was watching her…and was that a smile on the big warrior’s face? It was indeed. Valdur was amused, and pleased, that she enjoyed the food from his homeworld. So his mate could smile after all, and for some reason, seeing the smile filled Tyal with relief. Their bride had brought a smile to the usually stone-faced mar’don. This might just have a chance of working, of the three of them sharing the same closeness as Zagar, Sygen, and Rikari had when they had been the pioneers.

A drip ran down her chin. Valdur reached out and tenderly wiped it away. She laughed, blushed, and thanked him. Another good sign. He didn’t know how well the three of them would fare in bed, but he didn’t need his ajasa to feel the sexual tension in the air. They both wanted her…and she wanted them. The combination was going to be like rocket fuel.

He shifted in his seat as his cock began to stiffen at the thought of having her. Having her soon. He promised himself it would be an experience she would never forget…