CHAPTER ONE
The Falling Water Temple on Andurai
Before the Andurai Peace Accords, Mindrin Zeras believed she’d landed the best job in the Delfi system. Andurai was a stunning ocean planet. She had a low-stress career working as a sys/mech technician. And finally, her pay at the Falling Water Temple was more than enough to meet her needs. But since the signing of the peace accords, her opinion had changed drastically.
Of course she wanted the galactic peace to continue—who didn’t? And her pay was still fine, the planet still breath-taking, but the stress… Holy stars, her stress right now was off the charts. All the techs had been working in crisis mode ever since the announcement that the wedding between a mar’don, a celestri, and a human would be held at the Falling Water Temple.
The event would be the focus of the entire galaxy and had to be perfect. And right now, the biggest wedding ceremony in the galaxy—a marriage keeping war at bay and scheduled to happen in less than twenty minutes—was about to be derailed by a critical malfunction in one of the elevator lifts.
Mindrin hurried down an access corridor, trying not to panic, with her small GRX-D “Grixdee” maintenance robot flying at her side. She was confident she could deal with the problem, but how quickly was the vital question. The lift was crucial to bringing the bride to the central amphitheater, and if it didn’t work, this entire spectacle would fall on its face.
Mindrin had her tool box and her scanner, and with Grixdee matching her near-run, she’d almost reached the understage area below the temple’s amphitheater. The lighting in the windowless access corridor was blue-tinged from the transparent flow pipes that fed the thousand waterfalls throughout the temple. The ocean water gave off a cool glow thanks to all the bioluminescent cordekon and other plankton-like life drawn in through the temple’s water intakes.
She heard music and a great many voices ahead of her in the understage room where the lift was located. She took a deep breath to steady herself as she tried not to appear frantic. To get to the lift, she had to pass through the lift’s assembly room where the human delegation had gathered. She would keep her head down and ignore them and hopefully they would ignore her so she could do her job.
Two beefy security guards stopped her at the end of the corridor. She let one of them scan her credentials, trying not to fidget at the frustrating waste of time when she had so little to spare. The security guard went back and forth on his comm, talking with someone who sounded even grouchier than he did, until finally he waved her through with a scowl. She wasn’t intimidated by a suspicious glare from a no-tech meathead. She scowled right back as she hurried into the pre-stage assembly room and moved straight for the elevator lift.
This room was far more representative of the temple’s beauty than the access corridors. Huge windows at opened at either end of the room, giving sweeping views of the unending Andurai ocean and the clouds high in the atmosphere. The sunlight streaming in through the windows was bright, and the room’s floor had more of the big ocean water flow tunnels beneath transparent plasti-steel panels, making it seem as if the gathered people were walking on top of aquariums. Not counting the heavy security, at least twenty people were gathered here, many of them clustered around the bride. She ignored the dignitaries, advisors, and assistants and tried to catch a glimpse of the bride.
As expected, the woman was stunning. Probably had genetic code modifiers too, Mindrin guessed, though she tried not to be bitter about it. She was an auburn-haired, green-eyed beauty with perfect skin. She held herself with poise and dignity and didn’t seem the least bit nervous or stressed about the looming event. Her gorgeous bridal gown even made Mindrin feel a surge of clothing lust, even though she usually didn’t go in for apparel emphasizing form over function. The elegant wedding dress was made of shimmering venkose silk, with deep purples and blues and a scattering of illuminated diamonds.
Mindrin forced herself to stop being distracted and focus back on her vitally important task. She certainly didn’t have time to waste yearning to look as beautiful as the bride did and maybe wear something far more attractive than her technician uniform. Someone had to fix the lift. Otherwise this bride would be stuck here looking beautiful a hundred meters below the amphitheater stage, miss her wedding, disappoint billions of planets tuning in to the subspace video feeds to see it, and worst of all, jeopardize the future of the peace treaty.
No pressure.
She wove through the crowd with Grixdee floating beside her, trying not to growl at all the people in the way. She reached the far end of the room where the problematic lift rested in a five-meter wide, semi-circular alcove. She set her tool box down and ordered Grixdee to begin running system calibration scans.
An aide of some sort rushed over to her. “What is the meaning of this? You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was puffed with self-importance but also sharp with worry. Seems she wasn’t the only one stressed today.
She didn’t bother to look up from the data on her scanner. “If you want the bride to reach the main stage platform without a rocket pack, you need to back off and let me do my job.”
“She isn’t in any danger, is she?” he demanded.
“No, because unless I fix the servo firing sequence, this lift isn’t moving from this spot. Now, I can either waste more of my time explaining things to you, or you can keep quiet and let me do my job.” Usually she wasn’t so curt, but time was rapidly slipping away. She had no doubt that if she failed, it would cost her this job. The political marriage between not two but three different races—a mar’don prince, a celestri prince, and a Terras Alliance woman chosen by a quantum supercomputer to be the perfect match to them both—was one of the biggest events in the galaxy.
With an offended sniff, the aide left her alone. Thank the stars. She began to review the data coming from Grixdee’s deep scans, but a voice sounded in her earpiece, breaking her concentration. It was Brysen, her team supervisor in the temple’s high tech control booth. “Give me a status update.”
“Servo firing sequence failure,” she said. “Recalibrating the actuators now.”
“We need this finished yesterday, Mindrin. I have high level ambassadors demanding updates.”
“You want it done fast or do you want it done right?” She initiated another diagnostic, looking for program feedback loops. Something was definitely screwy here.
“Fast.”
She decided to ignore him, shifting her attention on the servo activation sequence Grixdee was fine-tuning. She stepped onto the lift, which was locked into position flush with the floor. At the center of the lift, she pulled the access hatch, and scanned the power-feed lines. Looking good for the most part, but one of the sequencers was still off. She began to adjust it with a grakon torque wrench. They’d just done a thorough maintenance check yesterday. How had this thing gone so wrong in such a short time?
And then Brysen decided to interrupt. Again. “What’s your status, Min? The wedding happens in minutes.”
“Working on it,” she growled. How did he expect her to concentrate when he was chattering in her ear every two seconds?
“Hurry!”
She ignored him for the second time, running a calibration adjustment on the servo firing sequence. She was finding a lot of corrupted data, commands that were shunted off into feedback loops, and that was a serious problem—
The guard rails shot up around the circular lift platform, startling a squeak from her that had heads turning her way. On her scanner screen, the local override suddenly went into a cascading data fail before she could halt it. The servos hummed to life. Grixdee’s warning alarm went off, but it was too late.
The lift rose upward into the access tube, leaving the understage area behind. Dread turned her veins to ice as she caught a glimpse of security guards running toward her and the panicked expressions on the faces of the aides. Then the room was already below her and out of sight as the lift ascended the tube-shaped elevator shaft. She didn’t even have Grixdee along with her on the lift as she was rushed upward toward the temple’s amphitheater. The lift would stop at the main platform in the amphitheater, surrounded by hundreds of waiting galactic citizens, all expecting to see the bride-to-be. She’d be caught on the subspace video feed to the rest of the galaxy, trillions of galactic citizens all eagerly awaiting this momentous occasion…
Oh karzi balls. This was bad.
She darted over to the emergency stop panel and yanked it open. She pulled down the red lever. The lift continued to rise. She cursed and tried again. Nothing.
“What is going on with that lift, Min?” Brysen barked over her earpiece. “The readouts here say it’s rising toward the amphitheater.”
“I know,” she shot back through gritted teeth. “I’m on the lift now.”
Shocked silence came over the comm. “Did I copy you right? You’re on the lift? The ceremony is about to start. You can’t be on that stage.”
“I know.” She furiously used the interface on her scanner to try to subvert the loops and deactivate the servos, the main power, anything that would stop the lift from continuing its ascent. “The kill switch is caught in a feedback loop.”
“We’re trying to shut it down from here, but we can’t isolate the power-feed and stop it without—”
The hatch above her hissed open. She dropped her scanner and scrambled to her feet as the lift reached the end of its journey, raising her into the temple’s amphitheater. The lift seamlessly locked into place with the rest of the central platform and the guard rails lowered back into the floor.
Mindrin stood there wide-eyed, her breath caught in her throat, while she stared around her at the huge amphitheater. There was no way to sneak away unnoticed. Bright spotlights shown down from the upper arches, and she couldn’t escape the platform without suddenly being able to fly. She stood on the circular platform stage in the center of the amphitheater more than fifty meters above a deep pool of ocean water below her. The platform was at the top of a huge, thick column, through which she had just been lifted from the understage area. In the center of the platform was another pool, overflowing its edges into a channel that encircled the pool and ran out in the four cardinal directions to flow off the edge of the platform in a waterfall all the way to the pool below. Twenty meters from the railing at the edge of the platform, the tiered seating began. All the seats seemed to be filled. All those citizens watching her…
“Welcome, fortunate one,” the priest standing on the northern quadrant of the platform said. Feeling as if she were trapped in a dream where everything felt slow and disconnected, she turned to stare at him. He must have been brought in specifically for the ceremony because she didn’t recognize him from the temple. “You are early.”
She opened her mouth to say something—probably “help get me out of here!”—when an unfamiliar male voice sounded over her earpiece. It wasn’t Brysen. This man sounded military.
“Listen closely—Mindrin is it? I am Commander Dolzen of the Terras Alliance delegation. Do you understand the level of trouble we’re sitting in at the moment? Your face is being broadcast to an untold number of planets across the galaxy to billions who now believe you are the bride representing humanity in the peace accords.”
Her panic had reached mind-numbing levels. Luckily her feet seemed frozen in place, because right now she felt so lightheaded she might just fall over. “I-I realize it—”
“Good,” he snapped, cutting her off. “Because this treaty is the most important thing in the galaxy right now. Thousands of planets are counting on it. We’ve kept the bride’s identity a secret to this point, so as long as the two princes don’t see you on that platform, we can still salvage this space wreck. Now, before the princes arrive, I need you to finish fixing that lift and get the hell off that platform.”
She gritted her teeth, biting back her sarcastic thanks for pointing out the glaringly obvious. If she didn’t fix the lift, the only other option was throwing herself over the railing and hoping she survived a long plunge into the pool of water below. It took all her self-control not to stand there quaking in the near-blinding lights. Her ears were ringing, and her mouth was drier than sand. She didn’t have much time. Fixing the lift would be tougher without Grixdee here, but now that the lift had safely docked, she could access its subroutines—
Ceremonial music began to play over the temple’s loudspeakers. The hatches in the western and the southern quadrants of the platform opened at the same instant. She froze, her heart lurching in her chest and cold fear in her stomach. She could only watch helplessly as the two lifts brought the alien princes onto the platform.
She didn’t know which one to gape at first. The mar’don prince stood on the quadrant directly across from her. He was huge, at least two meters tall. His head was shaved. His skin color was striking, an unforgettable gradient of orange-red that reminded her of the sunset. He had dark eyes that seemed to bore into her. His chest was massively broad, and her heart skipped quite a few beats when she noticed his arms were thicker than her thighs. He wore what was unmistakably a military uniform, although it was different than anything she’d ever seen before. Wide features, square jaw that looked like it could break mountains, two gleaming metal earrings that looked like spikes. Everything about him screamed power and strength.
Beside the mar’don, the celestri prince seemed almost small. To her, he was a size closer to a human male. His skin was a silvery blue, his eyes another shade of blue, and he held himself with unmistakable grace and dignity. His hair was black and long, twisted into a braid and secured with a silver clasp. His clothing was a perfectly tailored Llenso suit and coat in the celestri style. Knee-high boots, coattails, a coat and shirt sleeves rolled up above the elbows. Black and silver tattoos decorated his arms and even his neck. She wondered what the symbols meant.
In her earpiece, she heard He cursed in several galactic languages. “It’s too late. They’ve both seen you.” More curses, which weren’t helping calm her panic any. “We can’t back out now or we’ll endanger the entire peace accord. Listen to me very closely, Technician Mindrin. You need to play the role.”
“What do you mean, play the role?” she whispered. She had a deeply bad feeling that she knew exactly what he meant, and it had to do with both of those stunning alien males here on the platform with her. They were both watching her with such intensity that her heart began racing until it was pounding like crazy. And it wasn’t the good kind of crazy, but more like heart seizure crazy.
“I don’t think I need to spell it out for you. You need to complete the ceremony and marry them—”
“No way. I’m out of here,” she interrupted, starting toward the access panel. She’d finish fixing the lift as millions of planets watched, and she’d escape this nightmare. Then she would catch the next deep space freighter for the outer systems, because she was never going to be able to show her face again.
“The terms of the peace accords were extremely specific to prevent any corruption, manipulation, or undue influence. The two princes are to first see their bride together, in the presence of a water priest, at this exact time. It’s all a copy of the previous ceremony, laid out in excruciating detail. But listen, all the accords require is a human female to bind with them, because this isn’t about the Terras Alliance. Not really. Any human female will do.”
“Sorry. That doesn’t make me feel any better.” She was sweating now. In the stands, the crowd was growing restless. She could hear their murmurs over the music. Both princes were watching her and seemed to be catching on that something was wrong. The priest asked her if she felt okay, and she smiled at him. Or at least she tried to smile. She might’ve looked more like a grinning skull right then, she wasn’t sure.
“This is no longer about you, Mindrin,” Commander Dolzen continued in an urgent voice. “This is about the galaxy. It has been since the moment you sent that lift on its way up.”
“I didn’t send it up,” she whispered harshly. “The actuators—”
“Doesn’t matter. If you leave, you could kick us back to the years of strife and instability the peace accords ended. This could mean war.”
She stood there with her mouth open, not knowing what to say, and all her thoughts spinning through her mind. It was utterly and completely unfair to put this on her shoulders. Because of a faulty actuator, she was now the savior of the universe or something and that was insanity. She stood there, frozen, unable to decide the right thing to do, praying this was a nightmare she would wake up from any second now.
Any second now…
But the nightmare wouldn’t end.
Prince Valdur Darkon faced his impending marriage with the bravery of a true mar’don warrior. Still, he felt naked without a kardev blade on his back and a blaster at his side. No weapons were permitted within the temple’s holy amphitheater, and besides, weapons might frighten his tiny human bride. She was dressed oddly, even for a human, and seemed to be whispering to herself. No matter. An eccentric human female was nothing compared to some of the challenges he’d faced. This marriage ceremony was his sacred duty, a task handed him since his birth, and he knew deep within his bones that he had to see it through to the end. Like battle, this challenge had to be faced head-on and without fear until victory was achieved.
Victory should not be a problem. He’d battled space pirates in the Chradal System. He’d conquered a violent robot uprising on a star station in the Honai Quadrant. What was a marriage to him? Nothing to fear, certainly. Even if the particular marriage in question was like few others in the galaxy, that didn’t mean he would feel pre-battle jitters. Only the weak succumbed to fear.
But despite his words, his heart went out to the human female, who was clearly pale and terrified and feeling her share of pre-battle nerves. How could he blame her? Valdur knew he made an impressive, even intimidating sight, dressed in the traditional black-and-white uniform of the mar’don, with rank insignia on his shoulders displaying his royal heritage. As second prince in the Darkon royal line, this duty fell to him—a political marriage to continue a peace treaty held dear by the galaxy and avoid the chance at any future war. He expected both his mates to be impressed by the strength and power of the mar’don empire, but he had to remind himself that his bride also had the right to expect his protection, and his grim expression might be a little too intimidating, judging by her wide eyes and stricken expression.
He ignored the crowd filling the tiered seating and focused on the human female who would be bound to him by galactic law in only minutes. He couldn’t deny his eagerness to finally see her. According to the exacting terms of the peace accords, he did not yet even know her name yet, and with all the secrecy, rules, and security this was the first time he’d laid eyes on her.
Valdur was no expert on human females, but she pleased him well enough. More than well enough, in truth. Her expressive eyes dominated her face—the violet-colored eyes of humans from Areth. She was quite small in stature compared to him, although most humans were when judged against the mar’don. His new mate’s oddly utilitarian clothing showed she was shapely, with good hips and breasts. Valdur already felt the deep pull of lust for her heating his blood, although her outfit was not what he’d expected. Hadn’t he seen other workers at the temple wearing similar outfits? His briefings on human wedding customs indicated that the female usually wore elaborate, beautiful dresses. So it was strange. But then again, humans were strange, and who could deny that females of any species had their quirks?
He would know for certain how much fun or how much duty this political marriage would end up being once he finally had these vows out of the way and he could get his hands on her. If she purred like a drafa cat under his touch, he would be satisfied. If she was spirited, so much the better. He enjoyed feisty. All he would ask was that she be loyal and do her duty to the galaxy, as he was doing, as was the celestri prince.
The water priest stood in his elaborate robes, smiling at them with his arms lifted in blessing. Valdur ignored the priest as well. He respected holy ones, but he never felt particularly at ease around them. Usually they talked too much, and usually it was about whatever path to enlightenment they offered. Instead, his gaze shifted to Prince Tyal Garios. He was to be bound to this prince, along with this human female. He’d met Tyal before this ceremony, as the accords allowed. He respected the celestri prince as much as he could respect any male who did not openly carry a weapon. But Tyal seemed honorable enough, and he was certainly intelligent, although perhaps too well-mannered for Valdur’s personal taste. The files the empire’s spies had given him had told the story of a very bright, highly educated prince who trained in unarmed combat and was not to be underestimated. He would be a strong ally, bound to Valdur through their shared bride.
Music had been playing from the moment he’d arrived, and he waited for it to stop so the ceremony could progress to the important parts. His jaw tightened. One would think he’d be used to all this pomp and circumstance, being the second in line to the throne, but it never failed to annoy him. His gaze was once again irresistibly drawn back to the human female. She had been staring at him with those pretty eyes, but when he met her compelling gaze, she looked away quickly, and her pale skin turned pink along her cheeks. He found that color endearing. He was eager to see other pink parts of her. But he would take his time, ensure he set her fears at rest. At first the look in her eyes had been one of panic, again understandable, as he was impressive and his enemies trembled before him. But she seemed to have found her inner reserves of strength, because she’d stopped whispering to herself or into whatever communicator she had that he couldn’t see and stood straight with her chin held high, her expression that of a soldier ready to do what needed to be done. He felt a spark of admiration for her.
As long as she did her duty the same as he and Tyal must, he was certain things would turn out fine. Having to share his female with another male was not something that came naturally to Valdur by any means, but once the vows were said, he would have to accept that she would belong to the celestri as much as she would belong to him. Just as they would belong to her.
He felt a sudden sharp desire to know her name. It had never sat well with him that such an intimacy had been withheld from him, her future mate. As dictated by the treaty, for security and political reasons, the human female’s identity had been kept secret. The Terras Alliance delegation had promised only that she would be the perfect mate for both princes, chosen by using advanced data modeling techniques and personality analysis by quantum supercomputers. In Valdur’s opinion, humans relied too heavily on their machines, but he was not the one who had negotiated the treaty, even if it affected his future more heavily than anyone else in the empire.
The music finally ended. He noticed a commotion in the stands where many of the humans were seated. Security guards and aides were pressed against the railings. They were staring at his future mate, as were the galactic media broadcasting the marriage ceremony. He glanced at his delegation to see if anything was wrong. But they seemed as curious about the Terras delegation as he and the celestri did.
Before he could ponder further, the priest began to speak. His voice was amplified through omni-directional speakers, making it loud enough to be heard clearly even over the sound of the waterfalls.
“Welcome all, in peace and harmony. We are gathered to witness an event of far-reaching import. Today, peace in the galaxy continues with the sacred union between three races. The mar’don, the celestri, and humanity.”
The crowd showed its approval by cheering, applauding, stomping feet—as the mar’don preferred—or making other unique noises specific to their cultures and physiology. It was noisy and chaotic and he liked it. He raised a fist into the air and pumped it, reveling in the swell of sound that greeted the gesture. The celestri prince looked amused by his antics; the human woman still looked pale. He felt a flash of concern for her. Perhaps she feared crowds or heights? He did not understand fear personally, but he knew that it could be a true trial for other races that weren’t as bold as the mar’don.
When the crowd settled again, the priest continued. “I present to the galaxy those who are joining in body and soul. Prince Tyal Garios of the Celestri Kingdom. Prince Valdur Darkon of the Darkon Empire. Lady Ishtali Shanel of the Terras Alliance.”
Valdur gave a bow of honor to each of his new mates. A small part of him would have preferred to be announced first, but part of the overly specific details of the accords had already given announcement precedence to the celestri. No matter. He was a mar’don of honor, and would obey what had been agreed to. What was more interesting was that now he finally knew the name of the attractive human female. Lady Ishtali. For some reason, the name didn’t really suit her.
The priest moved toward the small pool in the center of the platform where a turquoise and red-brown orb spun, turned by water from below, on a small stand in the center of the pool. He gestured them closer. “This pashrondal stone, created by the celestri, will bind you in blood and spirit to your vows. This was agreed upon by all three races. Each of you, please place your right hand upon the sacred stone.”
Without hesitation, Valdur strode forward and put his hand on the pashrondal stone. The surface of the stone was wet and surprisingly warm. It stopped spinning under both his and Tyal’s touch as they both laid their right hands upon it. Lady Ishtali was still standing in her quadrant of the platform.
Her eyes were wide, and her lips were compressed tightly together in the thinnest of lines. Those striking violet irises made her creamy skin appear like new snow. He felt a pang of fierce protectiveness for her, seeing her delicate, refined features, struck by how small she was, barely coming up to mid-chest on him. He did not blame her for her hesitation. After all, he was an overwhelming presence in any room and had long since grown used to the effect his size and forceful personality had on others. Instead of being offended by her hesitation, he silently urged her on, willing her to tap the strength he was certain she held in her heart. If she didn’t have hidden strength, she wouldn’t have been here with them in the first place. It spoke well of her—and of Tyal—that both his mates had enough strength and honor to stand here with him on this momentous day.
Then Lady Ishtali took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. Her violet eyes shifted to Prince Tyal, held his gaze for a long moment, then shifted to meet Valdur’s. He returned her gaze steadily, hoping she took strength from him if she needed it. Once the vows were said, he would be sworn to protect her, to cherish her, to support her with all his power, but there was no reason he could not do his best to help her before those vows were said. If she were frightened, he would be her shield. The sudden complexity of these emotions caught him off guard, but he did not fight them. Neither did he dwell on them for too long. He was determined to see this through, no matter what.
But it seemed as though his little mate finally came to some kind of conclusion, because she stepped forward and joined them at the small pool with its falling water and the waist-high pillar supporting the stone. She placed her hand on the pashrondal stone, and he could not miss how her small fingers trembled on its surface. Even so, she kept her head high and even smiled at Tyal, then at him. Usually he was not much for smiling. Humans put too much stock in it. But he had to admit to feeling a thrill similar to the rush of winning a hard-fought battle when she smiled at him.
“Good,” the priest intoned. “Say your vows with me. ‘In the name of peace, I shall love you, I shall honor you, I shall stand with you forever, come prosperity or strife. We three are bound.’”
The three of them repeated the vow, speaking together in galactic common. Beneath Valdur’s hand, the smooth stone sphere grew warmer and began to glow as they spoke. Ishtali’s voice was sweet and clear, amplified along with his and with Tyal’s over the omni-speakers. Her words came out steadier than he’d expected, given how rattled she seemed. He was proud of her. Even though part of him was amused that his first-ever words to her were of undying devotion required by a political treaty, he found himself taking a liking to his tiny human with every passing moment.
“By the power invested in me by the galactic council,” the priest said, “I declare you bound as mates, lovers, and allies forever in flesh, blood, and mind. Even should the vastness of space separate you, you shall never be divided in spirit.”
The smooth orb glowed even brighter and warmer. He felt as if it drained part of his strength, but even as it drew from him, it replenished him with far more than it took. It seemed to pour two other energies, both alien, both different and yet not threatening, back into his body through the contact. The stone sphere finally stopped glowing, leaving a ringing silence behind.
The power of the stone surprised him, despite the fact that he’d been briefed on how the pashrondal stone worked. It used celestri bio-quantum interlacing technology the celestri claimed was a spirit-binding, establishing a vow deeper than words. The mar’don did not need fancy stones. The word of a mar’don was his bond, but the celestri had insisted as part of their demands for the original peace accords, so the mar’don had agreed so they would have leverage of their own.
Triumphant music began to play throughout the amphitheater. The crowd cheered. Media reporters pushed up against the railings across the wide gap, calling out question. Valdur found himself glad of the separation between the seating areas and this platform.
The priest was giving them a fatherly smile. “Congratulations, all of you. Per the accords, you may now return to your respective delegations until tonight when you share the first meal ritual at the grand feast.”
The first meal ritual was a mar’don tradition of vital importance to a mating ceremony. The importance of sharing food was very significant to his empire’s culture, but even more so after swearing vows. He looked forward to sharing some of his people’s traditional dishes with his new mates. Especially with his intriguing little human. He had a great many questions for her and looked forward to learning more of her. At least until it came time to take her to his bed and claim her. Then all he would be looking to hear from her lips were her moans of pleasure as she quivered beneath him. He intended to drive her to the very heights of pleasure, making her first experience with him absolutely unforgettable and driving memories of any other lover she’d ever had from her mind. He and the celestri prince might be mated through this woman, but that did not mean he did not intend to win in all things, as he always did.
He would show his human and celestri mates the stamina and prowess of a true mar’don warrior.