“You do have gorgeous eyes.” Nadiah sighed. “So exotic… All right, maybe you can make it work after all. But don’t blame me if it causes mischief. A mismatched tharp can be your worst nightmare.”
Sophie didn’t know why she was so worried. Holding the moss green fur up to herself in the viewer, she could see that it was the perfect shade for her.
She was going to be beautiful at the feast tonight. Beautiful and poised and elegant. She was going to make a wonderful impression on everyone there—even Sylvan’s aunt and uncle, and she was going to do her best to outshine Feenah. Why should you care about looking better than her? It’s not like you’re in some kind of competition for Sylvan.
Except it felt like she was. And try as she might, Sophie couldn’t ignore the stab of jealousy she felt when she imagined Sylvan’s ex meeting up with him again after all these years.
Twenty-Nine
It had been a long time since Sylvan had worn a tharp and the traditional dress of his home planet felt strange to him. To be honest, he would have preferred to remain in his Kindred uniform. But he knew that would stir up trouble with the Purists and he didn’t want to deal with controversy at the moment. So he reluctantly decided to dress in the traditional manner—at least for the feast.
He had been a little worried about breaking in a new tharp on such short notice, but luckily his mother’s sister had some that were new and not yet imprinted. He had chosen a shaggy brown one that looked mature for its age and let it know that he would tolerate no nonsense. The tharp had acquiesced to his will at once and draped obediently and securely around his waist as he directed.
Sylvan only hoped that Sophia, who had been shut up in Nadiah’s room for well over an hour now, was having similar luck. It would have been better if he’d had time to explain to her about the Tranq Prime clothing and customs, but he was sure Nadiah was covering all that as she dressed Sophia for the feast.
“Well,” he said aloud, looking at his new tharp in the viewer. “This one appears to be well behaved.”
His mother’s sister’s mate, Grennly, nodded in approval. “A good choice. As I recall, you always were good at subduing tharps to your will. Too bad you don’t have as much luck with females, eh?” He laughed and slapped Sylvan on his bare back.
“Yes, it’s a pity,” Sylvan said politely. And as I recall, you always were an idiot. But he didn’t say it aloud—one could not say such things to kin, no matter how true they were.
“So why did you really forswear yourself of the exotic little Earthling?” Grennly wanted to know. He had been taking sips from a small stone flask ever since he’d managed to slip away from his mate, and his proper Purist attitude seemed to be melting away along with his sobriety. “I mean, she’s not a Prime female but she’s pretty enough in an off-worlder kind of way. A bit short for my tastes but that dark hair is very fetching. I would’ve thought you’d snatch her up.”
Sylvan gritted his teeth and fought the irritation that rose inside him at the male’s ignorant words. “Sophia is a good deal more than fetching. And I am here to protect her—nothing more. She is being hunted by the Scourge.”
“Is that right?” Grennly took another swig from his flask. “Feenah will be at the feast tonight, you know,” he said, changing the subject with his usual lack of tact.
“I expected as much,” Sylvan said evenly. “She and Tyber will be sitting at the founding families table, no doubt.”
“You don’t know?” Grennly raised his thin blond eyebrows in surprise.
“Know what?”
“Why that Feenah is still unmated! She and Tyber went their separate ways barely a cycle after you left Tranq Prime for good.” He snorted. “Or rather, Tyber went his own way. He ran off with a female from the Twii grotto right before he and Feenah were to be mated.”
Sylvan frowned. “Such faithlessness in a male is shameful.”
Grennly looked surprised. “I would have thought you’d be glad to hear that Feenah got a taste of her own medicine.”
“I cared for her at one time—cared deeply,” Sylvan said. “How could I be happy about anything that hurt her?”
“Well…” Grennly shrugged his narrow shoulders and settled on the sleeping platform. “Just thought you might like to know. And she’s still unmated. Might be she’ll be more amenable to your, ah, attentions now than she was last time you were here.”
Sylvan adjusted his tharp and frowned. “I thought you and Zeelah were Purists now. Why would you encourage me to pursue a pure-blooded Prime female—especially one who has already rejected me once before?”
Grennly cleared his throat. “Well, all that Purist sentiment is mainly for Zeelah’s benefit. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I wouldn’t want Nadiah bonding with a Kindred.” He took another drink. “No offence.”
“None taken,” Sylvan said dryly, reaching for the pair of extra-large brown fur boots that his mother’s sister had somehow managed to procure for him.
“Good.” Grennly nodded. “As to why I would encourage the match, well, Feenah’s people have always been a little too proud of their blood lines.”
Sylvan raised an eyebrow at the other male. “So you want me to bond with Feenah in order to ‘pollute’ their blood with my inferior Kindred stock and put them in their place?”
“Exactly.” Grennly was either completely immune to sarcasm or not sober enough to notice Sylvan’s tone. “They think they’re so important because their domicile is closer to the main grotto than ours.”
“They are dreadfully self-important.” Zeelah’s strident voice preceded her as she entered the guest room they had given Sylvan.
Grennly, who had been lounging on the sleeping platform, quickly hid the stone flask under a pillow and sat up straight. “Just so, my dear. Just so.”
“Sylvan, my dear, just look at you.” Zeelah came forward, smiling. “So handsome! A bit brawny for my taste, perhaps but you can’t help that—it’s the Kindred blood in you.”
Sylvan looked at her. “I’m proud to be what I am—a Kindred warrior.”
“Of course. Of course.” Zeelah made a gesture with one hand, as though shooing his words—and his less than pure blood lines—away. “But you’re first and foremost a male of Tranq Prime and tonight we’re going to remind everyone of that.”
Sylvan raised an eyebrow at her. “And just how do you intend to do that?”
“Not to worry—I have everything in hand.” Zeelah gave him a reassuring smile that he didn’t trust a bit, but before he could say anything Nadiah stuck her head in the doorway.
“What’s everybody doing in here? We’re going to be late for the feast!”
“Coming my dear.” Zeelah smiled at her daughter. “Is Sophia all ready for her first Snowdrop Festival?”
“As ready as I could make her.” Nadiah sounded a little doubtful. “We had some trouble with her tharp but it’s behaving itself now—I think.”
“Nadiah Vil-delano Quii—that was all you had to do, just find her a suitable tharp,” Zeelah scolded. “Couldn’t you even manage that?”
“I did manage it,” said Nadiah defensively. “She looks fine and we’re ready to go. But we can’t leave until the males do—unless you want to break with tradition and all go together. My friend Lenrah’s family are all going together at the same time. She told me so.”
Zeelah sniffed. “Really, Nadiah, where do you find these friends? Is their domicile even anywhere near the main corridor?”
Nadiah bristled. “Lenrah’s people are perfectly nice and respectable, Mamam. And who cares where their domicile is located?”
“You had better care, young lady, if you want to make a good bonding match,” Zeelah said tartly. “You’re judged by the company you keep, you know. And furthermore—”
“Sylvan and I are ready.” Grennly got to his feet looking surprisingly steady for a male who’d been drinking as much as he had. “We’ll go on ahead, shall we?”
“Yes, yes, go.” Zeelah made a sho
oing gesture. “But don’t be seated until I get there. You won’t have to wait long—we’ll be right behind you.”
“All right then. Come on, Sylvan.” Grennly nodded for him to follow but Sylvan stayed where he was.
“I would prefer to escort Sophia to the feast myself.”
“What?” Zeelah fluttered around him in agitation. “But you can’t do that, Sylvan! The males in the family must always arrive first and you’re not even a bonded pair—think what people will say.”
“I don’t care what they say, Sophia is uncomfortable enough as it is and I am the only person she knows on Tranq Prime. I won’t abandon her just to please convention.”
“But Sylvan—”
“It’s all right.” Sophia appeared in the doorway, smiling hesitantly. She looked lovely in a moss green tharp that draped beautifully over her curves and brought out her eyes. “Excuse me, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be in here but I heard voices so…”
“Of course it’s okay.” Nadiah smiled at her. “What happened to you, anyway? I thought you were just going to relieve yourself. What took so long?”
“Oh, I…” Sophia’s cheeks went nearly scarlet. “I had a little difficulty. I mean, your, ah, facilities are different from what I’m used to. And then I got lost. Your, uh, domicile is very beautiful and very large,” she said, turning to Zeelah.
“Well, of course.” Zeelah puffed up with pride. “The Quiis are one of the first families. We couldn’t possibly live in a smaller or less prominent dwelling.”
Nadiah rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Because everyone knows your worth as a person is determined by your blood lines and social rank.”
Zeelah turned on her daughter. “That’s enough out of you, young lady. You may turn up your nose at our social standing now but when it comes time for you to choose a mate I’m sure you’ll think differently.”
“Now, now.” Grennly stepped between his mate and daughter. “Let’s not argue on a festival day. Sylvan and I need to get going or we’ll all be late.”
Sylvan crossed his arms over his chest. “You can go ahead. I’ll be escorting Sophia.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Sophia said quickly, before his mother’s sister could protest. “I’ll be fine going with the girls.”
“Are you certain?” Sylvan walked over and took her by the shoulders. Looking down into her eyes he murmured, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine, really.” She smiled up at him. “Nadiah and I are already friends and besides, I don’t want to make things hard on you in your own hometown. Er…home planet.”
Sylvan scanned her face, wanting to be certain she was really all right. “If you’re truly certain…”
“Positive,” she assured him brightly.
“And your tharp is well suited to you?”
She looked down at herself. “It’s, uh, fine. Nadiah had a hard time getting it fastened at first but now it fits like a glove.”
“So I see.” He couldn’t help noticing that the tharp in question was clinging to her in a way that was almost indecent. From what Nadiah had said, it had been troublesome to begin with. Well, it appears to like her well enough now, he thought, eying the way it was draped lovingly over her full breasts and hips. “Just keep it in its place,” he told Sophia.
“Of course I’ll keep it in place.” She frowned. “I mean, it’s not like I would take it off in the middle of the feast.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant—” Sylvan started to say, but then Grennly was taking him by the arm. “Your lovely young lady is fine, Sylvan and we really need to go.”
“Go on, you two.” Zeelah shooed them out the doorway. “We females will do a last bit of freshening up and we’ll meet you at the feasting grotto.”
Frowning, Sylvan cast a last look over his shoulder at Sophia. But she was arm-in-arm with Nadiah and the two females were already talking about something else. He told himself he was being overprotective. After all, it wasn’t like the Scourge could reach down and pluck her away from him here under the surface of Tranq Prime. She was as safe as she could possibly be—she didn’t need him keeping her caged in every minute, especially when it seemed that she and Nadiah were already fast friends.
Still, it was with a certain amount of reluctance that he allowed Grennly to lead him out of the domicile and toward the feasting grotto. Sophia was so beautiful in the clinging, moss green tharp and if another male looked at her or wanted to talk to her, he would have to sit by and watch it happen. Because despite what his heart told him, he technically had no claim on her.
No claim at all.
Sophie watched Sylvan walk away and tried to subdue the small spark of panic that tried to set fire to her nerves. I’ll be fine, she told herself nervously as Nadiah squeezed her arm. Just fine. And I’m sure we’ll sit together at the feast so it’s no big deal that we aren’t walking there together now.
She wished she’d had five minutes alone with him before he left, though. She wanted to talk to him—really talk, not just mouth pleasantries, which was all she felt able to do in front of his relatives. And she wouldn’t have minded a little time to admire him, either. Though the Tranq Prime style of dress looked absolutely ridiculous on his uncle, Sylvan pulled it off with style and class.
With his bare chest, the brown tharp draped around his waist like a furry kilt and the brown fur boots to match, he had the whole barbarian vibe going on in a very hot way. He looked like a primitive warrior ready to go into battle and Sophie couldn’t help thinking that no woman in her right mind could resist him. Especially not an ex-girlfriend that still had the hots for him.
Sophie only hoped she looked as good in her own tharp. It really was an amazing piece of clothing. The way it draped around her and joined at just the right places—it was almost as though it had a mind of its own. But of course that was ridiculous. She was just glad that Nadiah had finally gotten it fastened after working with it for almost half an hour. It had taken her much less time to put Sophie’s hair up into an elaborate loopy up-do, held in place with thin combs made out of some kind of translucent, glittery mineral.
When Sophie had looked in the viewer she’d had to admit the effect was very nice. The moss green tharp draped across her breasts like a strapless gown, leaving her shoulders bare. But it also managed to form long, flowing sleeves that covered her arms from the elbows down and made her feel like a princess. The bodice—if you could call it that—was a little tight and clingy, but it fell gracefully to her feet, which were covered in furry white dress boots that Nadiah had loaned her. She had found Sophie’s flip-flops fascinating and also a little naughty—apparently females on Tranq Prime didn’t show their feet to anyone but their mates.
The only thing Sophie didn’t like about her new outfit was the fact that she’d had to take off her bra and underwear to put it on. She’d begged to be allowed to keep her panties on at least but Nadiah had vetoed the idea firmly. Apparently wearing any other clothing besides footwear was some kind of insult to the tharp. Sophie supposed it was like trying to modify a gown made by an important designer back on Earth. Maybe Nadiah was afraid that they would meet the person who had made her particular tharp and he or she would be upset.
She had never been a slave to fashion before but in the end, she reluctantly agreed to leave off her underwear in deference to the Tranq Prime customs. It made her wish for her simple cotton sundress, though. Despite the fact that it was completely sleeveless and much shorter than the tharp, she had felt a lot less naked and vulnerable wearing it.
“So tell me what really happened in the necessary room,” Nadiah said in a low voice as they walked slowly down the long stone corridor behind her mother. “Was there some kind of problem?”
“A little,” Sophie confessed, feeling her cheeks get hot. “There was some kind of, uh, animal in there—I guess it must be your family’s pet? Anyway, when I finished, uh, relieving myself it suddenly got very, er, very friendly.
”
She shivered just remembering it…
The facilities were strange—the toilet was on a stone pedestal and she had to climb a set of elaborately carved steps to reach it. It made her hope she didn’t have to go in the middle of the night—she could just imagine falling off because she was half asleep. When she was finished, Sophie looked for the tissue but she didn’t see it anywhere. Great, she thought to herself. So what am I supposed to do now—drip dry?
It was then that the thing she’d assumed was a furry purple bath mat at the base of the pedestal, climbed up and insinuated itself onto her lap.
Sophie was frightened at first and almost screamed. But then she remembered Liv’s story about Baird’s blue teddy bear, Bebo. The first time she saw him, Liv had been sure the little animal was some kind of predator intent on eating her up, when in fact he was just a harmless pet. Sophie was determined not to repeat her sister’s mistake. I’m not going to get all freaked out when it’s obviously just some kind of pet, she told herself firmly. I can handle this—it’s no big deal.
The mat was a little creepy but she liked animals—especially little furry ones—and it sort of reminded her of long-haired purple cat. A very flat cat, to be sure, but it made a soft humming sound that was sort of like purring when she stroked it and seemed loveable on the whole.
“Good girl…or boy,” Sophie murmured, petting its flat, furry back. “Aren’t you a good little…whatever you are? Good—”
And that was when the mat started trying to work its way between her legs. “Hey!” she yelped. “Bad mat…cat…thing. Whatever you are. Stop it—no!” She pushed it firmly away but it was very insistent. Now it reminded her of one of those dogs that wasn’t happy unless it had its snout buried firmly in someone’s crotch. Only most people didn’t usually leave their overly-friendly dogs in the bathroom to ambush unsuspecting guests at such a vulnerable moment.
Brides of the Kindred Volume One: Books 1-4 Page 73
