The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3)

by Monica La Porta

  “That was supposed to be a surprise,” Valentine’s voice startled her, and she jumped up.

  “Valentine?” Turning on her heels, she found him, looking back at her from the mirror over the fireplace.

  She was glad that he had selected the two-dimensional view instead of the three-dimensional option that was the Brotherhood’s choice. Those faces protruding from the glass upset her.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Valentine laughed.

  Wearing all black, he sat on a low bench with his boot propped up on the cushion and his hands resting on the knee. She couldn’t see much of the room behind him because the place was shrouded in darkness, but gray seemed to be the dominant color, both present on the walls and the utilitarian furniture. Sprawled on the padded seat, he was the picture of decadence, and she was reminded of how her husband affected her even from afar.

  “I’ve been calling you all over the manor, and I finally found you here,” he said.

  Valentine’s voice was magnetic, and Mirella found herself closing her eyes to savor the rumble that distinguished him as a tenor. “How was your trip?”

  “Look at me,” he said, and only when she obeyed did he continue. “Uneventful, and I’ve already met with Aretius. How was your day?” He leaned against the wall, tilting his head to the side as he passed his hand over the thigh of his unbent leg. The leather of his pants was worn and fit him like a glove, showing his muscles as if he wore nothing.

  Mirella forgot his question. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, kitten.” His hazel eyes were bright, and his lips curved up in a mischievous grin when he added, “Now would be a good time to show you my gifts, but they are in our bedroom’s closet, and I don’t want to wait for you to cross the whole manor.”

  Under his intense stare, she felt warm.

  “Sit,” he ordered.

  Without thinking, she backed a step and lowered herself to the bed.

  “Open the bodice.” Valentine’s voice was soft, yet steely.

  Mirella’s hand went to the small mother-of-pearl buttons securing her low corset in place. Her fingers fumbled with the fastenings, while her uneven breathing pushed her breasts against the garment. A familiar tingling traveled from the apex of her legs to her belly. When the bodice opened and her hand brushed the softness of her skin, she moaned.

  “Raise your skirt.”

  She knew he would ask her to bare her legs next. Still, his command made her shiver. She leaned forward as her trembling hands reached down for her gown’s ruffled hem, and her bodice parted completely, fully exposing her breasts.

  “Exquisite,” Valentine murmured, his eyes darker. His hand traveled toward his belt.

  Dizzy with longing, she crumpled her skirt in her fisted hands, hiking it higher until the crinoline of the undergown reached her mid-thigh, chafing her sensitized skin like a rough, yet wicked caress.

  “Higher.”

  Again, she obeyed. The rest of the world had disappeared. Her senses, her whole being was centered on his voice.

  “Open your legs.”

  Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and her chest rose and fell in a few quick pants, making her feel lightheaded. Steadying her nerves, she slid toward the edge of the mattress and slowly parted her thighs.

  “Kitten—” He undid his belt. “I want you to caress yourself.”

  Mirella blushed and hesitated.

  “Brush your flower for me, kitten.” He opened his pants, uncovering his flesh.

  Mirella’s hand opened, releasing the fabric, and moved to her mound.

  A knock on the door intruded in their privacy.

  “Blessed Bride?” Crea called from outside. “Is everything okay?”

  Valentine grunted his dislike, then pointed at the door on the back of the studio. “Send her away.”

  “I can’t.” Mirella hastily pressed the bodice’s edges together, fastening the first button.

  “Stop,” Valentine said.

  “She’s not alone.” Mirella had completely forgotten there were people in the hallway. “My escort is waiting outside.”

  “What escort?”

  “Dragon and Gabriel are investigating the attack, so Martali sent me two of his men—”

  “What attack?” Valentine’s hand moved away from his pants.

  “You haven’t talked with Martali yet?”

  “No. I wanted to see you before the space station’s rotation reached the dark spot.” Valentine passed his hand over his head. In the last day, he hadn’t shaved his already short hair, and his fingers passed through longer stubble.

  Mirella missed his wild mane, even though his eyes shone brighter without the light-brown locks falling to his shoulders.

  “What happened?” he asked, standing as he tucked himself in.

  Straightening her clothes, she told him what she knew.

  Censure in his eyes, he shook his head. “Dragon and Gabriel should be with you at all times. Why did they leave?”

  She shrugged. “They didn’t say, but my guess is that something else happened and they didn’t want me to worry.”

  “I need to talk to Martali—”

  “Of course.”

  “There isn’t enough time to call you back tonight. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow when Sidera Prime and Lupine have aligned once again.” He paused. “I want you in the studio.”

  “I’ll be here,” she said.

  “Bring my gifts.” His eyes lit with the mischievous light that Mirella loved so much.

  “I will.” Her imagination was already running wild, and she blushed.

  Valentine chuckled. “Until then.”

  Circular waves wrinkled the smooth surface of the mirror. The glass became opaque for a moment, then it reflected the studio and Mirella.

  “Blessed Bride?” Ike called, the door handle rattling.

  After a brief glance at the mirror to check her appearance, Mirella decided she was decent. “I’m coming out.”

  Once in the hallway, Crea gave her a good look, her eyebrow rising slightly over a smile she hid behind her hand.

  “We heard a voice,” Ike said, peering over Mirella’s shoulder.

  “My husband called me,” she explained.

  Crea’s eyes went to her bodice, and Mirella followed her glance only to realize she had missed one of the buttonholes and the fabric was misaligned. She turned away from the guards and hastily passed her fingers through the buttons, pushing the small disks back into their rightful place.

  When she looked up again, Crea smiled at her, but her face also bore a bittersweet sense of longing.

  “I’m tired,” Mirella said. “Let’s retire to my apartments.” She intended to talk to the girl as soon as they had some privacy.

  They had reached the main hallway when Dragon rounded the corner in haste.

  “Blessed Bride—” the Solarian called her.

  Mirella frowned. They had dispensed with titles already. “Is something amiss?”

  “Balenus was kidnapped,” Dragon answered in that direct way that was his trademark.

  “Balenus? When?” Mirella asked.

  “One of the ancillae reported his disappearance earlier today, and a ransom note just arrived. It was signed by the Revolution.”

  “The Revolution.” She couldn’t help but scoff.

  “We have until dawn to pay the ransom.”

  “How much?”

  “Half a million reales.”

  “Why would the rebels kidnap the medicus?” Mirella hugged herself, suddenly wary.

  “News of your pregnancy has spread throughout Lupine. Not everyone is happy about it.”

  “And Balenus oversees my health.”

  Dragon nodded. “Be assured that we are doing everything in our power to rescue the medicus.”

  “Valentine must be informed.”

  “Gabriel is trying to reach him.”

  “Where is Martali?” she asked.

  “He’s flown to Adris, foll
owing a lead.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “From now on, we’ll all feel better if you could relocate to the safe quarters.”

  “What safe quarters?” Mirella’s extensive wanderings through the manor had never revealed the existence of such a place.

  “They are hidden inside the harem.”

  “That explains it,” she murmured under her breath, not pleased by the idea of having to visit the only place in the house she had avoided. “Let’s go,” she said out loud, starting to walk toward the right wing.

  As usual, servants and mechanical workers filled the hallways, but Mirella barely noticed the activities taking place as she ambled through the house. As if sensing her stormy mood, nobody in her retinue talked.

  Only outside the gilded gate to the harem did Dragon clear his voice. “It’s only temporary,” he said, pushing the gate open.

  The sound of splashing water from the fountain decorating the atrium in front of the harem echoed loud in Mirella’s ears. If she closed her eyes, she could see Ronda rounding the corner, tightly grabbing Dragon’s arm. The courtesan had goaded Mirella mercilessly since the first time they met. The memory was still raw. The woman had only caused pain and suffering, and even though she was dead, her ghost lingered close.

  Crea stepped forward and silently squeezed Mirella’s hand.

  Mirella nodded at the girl, then crossed the threshold and entered the one place she had never thought she would ever put a foot inside.

  Chapter Seven

  “Balenus has been taken,” Valentine repeated Gabriel’s words, sitting straighter on the ergonomic bench in the Brotherhood quarters.

  As soon as he had contacted the communication mirror in his studio, Gabriel had answered. The haggard expression on his friend’s face would have scared him if he hadn’t just talked to Mirella and seen with his own eyes that she was fine.

  “Not even two days away from home, and first my house is desecrated, now my medicus is kidnapped.” Valentine was tired. He hadn’t slept much aboard of the Beagle, his mind occupied with thoughts running wild. “What else?”

  “We’ve been contacted a few minutes ago by the Revolution—”

  “They have a name now.” Valentine stretched his neck. “What do they want?”

  “Half a million reales.”

  “Well, at least they kept it reasonable.”

  As Gabriel relayed the rest of the news, Valentine debated if he needed to head back home.

  “We have everything under control,” Gabriel said as if he had read Valentine’s mind. “We’ll keep Mirella safe. As we speak, Dragon is escorting her to the safe quarters.”

  “Why him?” Jealousy reared its ugly head, leaving a sour taste in Valentine’s mouth. He knew better than to fill his mind with ugly thoughts, especially when it came to the loyal Solarian whose sense of honor was second to none, but he couldn’t shrug the feeling. Given that Valentine had entrusted Mirella’s wellbeing to both Gabriel and Dragon, his sentiment was irrational and irritated him.

  Gabriel raised his hands to the side and shrugged. “I figured your bride isn’t fond of the place and I didn’t want to have to convince her if she refused to go.” For a moment, he had the grace to look sheepish, then added, “I didn’t want to be the one to displease the Blessed Bride and incur your ire.”

  Valentine scoffed. “So you sent the Solarian to do your dirty work instead.”

  “He’s already under your radar.”

  Valentine laughed, then he gave Gabriel the code to access his vault. “Withdraw the sum the kidnappers have requested.”

  “Do you want us to pay without negotiating?”

  “I wouldn’t abandon a person in my care to the whims of a bunch of terrorists.” He pressed his fingers against his temple to assuage the small throb that promised to become a strong headache. “And Balenus is the only medicus on Lupine specialized in blessed bride pregnancies.” A dull pain built up behind his right eye. “Pay, but keep investigating. The sooner we stop this leader of theirs, the better.” Mirella would need him in the months ahead, and he wanted to devote himself to her. Fighting an anonymous enemy wasn’t on his agenda.

  A long blip followed by three short ones announced that Sidera Prime’s orbit would soon reach the no-communication zone. Bringing both feet up to the edge of the bench, he hugged his knees and leaned his head against the wall. He needed to sleep. “I’ll enter the dark side in a few minutes.”

  His image already dimming, Gabriel nodded above a static sound. “Stay, do your research, come back with a solution. We’ll keep you informed.” He brought two fingers to his temple and closed the call.

  Massaging the stubble on his jaw, Valentine stared at the empty mirror, hating that he was far away and had to delegate the management of the crisis to his friends. He also didn’t like that Mirella was to experience any undue stress. Helplessness was an emotion he had rarely experienced and would have liked a sparring session to release the pent-up energy that made his hands clench and unclench.

  The mirror blipped one last time. He wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone else tonight, and now that his migraine was in full bloom sleep would elude him as well.

  Pushing himself up, he opened the door with a vocal command. “Fastest way to the Brotherhood Library,” he said once in the hallway.

  A green arrow appeared on the right wall, and it started moving when Valentine took the first step. If the Brotherhood’s quarters had been kept the same for centuries, the rest of Sidera Prime underwent cyclical changes. Since Valentine had left the space station and moved permanently to Lupine, the home of his youth had remodeled itself several times to optimize spaces and save energy by eliminating communal rooms that were no longer in use. A large portion of the station was sealed already, and hallways had been rerouted. Adjacent sections were now divided by corridors, and their entrances lay far away from each other, even when they belonged to the same compound. The old way to the library Valentine had taken daily for several decades had been barred, and the new path proved to be more convoluted.

  Meandering through corridors that shrunk as he moved away from the central hub, he jogged to find an outlet to his nervousness. The pace wasn’t fast enough to calm his stormy mood, and he soon sprinted, the arrow flying on the wall, adjusting to his speed. He pushed his legs past the point of pain, but didn’t stop or slow to a jog again. His chest ached, straining to pump air in and out of his lungs. He could have hopped on one of the few automated rickshaws that remained, just to give his body the respite it needed, but it wouldn’t have helped him. Physical pain he could deal with, it was the uncertainty of what lay ahead that kept him on edge.

  What if he wouldn’t find the answer he was looking for? He would have spent a week away from Mirella for nothing. Seven days that would never come back. During a crisis.

  The arrow stopped before a hatch door.

  Out of breath, Valentine pressed his hand against the plaque on the wall. The door retracted, and he stepped into the familiar darkness of the Brotherhood Library. He had always preferred the airy public library to the brothers’ and had only entered the cavernous room to complete his required hours of Werewolf History.

  The thumps of his heavy boots were absorbed by the soft flooring that seemed to ensnare him deeper and deeper inside the library as he walked along its perimeter. Suffuse lightning turned on at his passage, turning off as soon as he had moved to the next spot. Several long tables filled the central floor, while three-story high bookcases lined the walls. Passageways cut the walls, framed by wrought iron parapets that created a gentle contrast against the rest of the severe atmosphere. The mezzanine-like floors were connected by helical staircases that were motionless now, but would float when needed.

  He had no idea of where to start with his research, so he said, “Blessed Brides.”

  On the other side of the room, an entire section of the library lit from floor to ceiling. The pale blue light served as a beacon as he walked
around the tables, dragging his tired limbs. His stomach contracted before the sheer amount of knowledge in front of him. Hundreds of books, diaries, recordings, and excerpts waited for him.

  Would a week be sufficient?

  “Blessed bride pregnancy,” he said, prioritizing the content he needed to read first.

  Up toward the ceiling, a large portion of the blue column changed into a red hue. Valentine sighed in relief. Only a few hundred documents remained to peruse. One of the helical staircases floated closer to him, and he climbed onto the first step. Silently, the staircase rose to the third story’s passageway where he alighted. Within a white cloud of chilled air, the red section protruded out of the bookshelf. The temperature lowered several degrees before it stabilized again.

  Valentine waited for the frost on the books to dissipate, then reached for the first five tomes in the upper left corner and lowered them to the narrow ledge jutting from the parapet. He studied the spines, reading the titles.

  Interspecies Breeding

  Werewolf DNA vs. Human DNA

  Human Female Physiology

  Interbreeding Pioneers

  The Science of Werewolf Reproduction

  With the books tucked under his elbow, he hopped onto the staircase that deposited him on the first floor. He chose one of the sofas instead of sitting at a table and picked his first read randomly.

  “Interbreeding Pioneers it is,” he murmured, carefully raising the cardboard cover.

  The Brotherhood Library with its wealth of paper publications was another example of how the werewolf community had never cared to assimilate with the humans. Instead of mending differences, the brothers had flaunted their power, reminding the rest of the population that their affluence put them on a different plane altogether. In a society where paper was one of the rarest commodities, the Brotherhood Library contained only physical books. No digital copies for the haughty werewolves who could decorate their quarters with wood and glass. They could pay the luxury tax for the privilege, and kept the precious collection for themselves. No human DNA was allowed in their library, besides the medicus and the scientists who worked alongside the werewolves. In passing, Valentine wondered why the humans had helped them. It wasn’t like his species had endeared themselves to the humans.