Triad

by Cyndi Friberg

  “And if I’m not sure what I want?” She looked at him and then away, unable to hold his penetrating gaze. “This isn’t why I came here.”

  He lightly touched her chin, guiding her gaze back to his. “Bilarrians choose their mates. With Rodytes it’s different. It’s instinctive, visceral, and impossible to resist.”

  “I was taught about what Rodytes call the pull. I understand what happens and what it means.”

  “But have you ever experienced it?”

  One of his arms encircled her waist and drew her against his body. His other hand pressed against the side of her face. It was obvious he intended to kiss her and her pulse began to race. He lowered his head slowly, giving her plenty of time to turn away. Her lips trembled, parting slightly as his mouth brushed hers. She’d been kissed before, but never by a potential mate. She wound her arms around his neck and increased the pressure of his chest against her breasts.

  His mouth slid back and forth, inviting rather than commanding. She tilted her head and fit her lips more securely to his. It was all the encouragement he needed. He teased her lips with his tongue, advancing by tantalizing degrees. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his scent. Sensory sparks flitted across her skin, making her nipples tingle. He groaned into her mouth. Apparently, he’d felt it too.

  Eager to explore the new sensations, she touched her tongue to his. He slid deeper, filling her mouth with his taste. His scent produced sparks, but his taste made her burn. She rubbed against him and returned his kiss as heat spiraled through her body.

  “Do you feel it, love?”

  Before she could answer, he kissed her again. His tongue moved boldly now, curling and sliding until she could think of nothing but him. She felt it. Oh gods, how she felt it. She wanted him now, needed him moving over and into her, filling the emptiness.

  She tore her mouth away and turned her head. “We can’t do this. This is not why I’m here.” She’d known he’d pursue her, but she’d thought he’d give her a day or two to solidify an agreement before he pounced. She should have known better. He was a Rodyte male in his prime. Nothing was more important than claiming his mate.

  “I can’t pretend I don’t feel this. I won’t. We are genetically compatible.”

  “I know.” She tried to move out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I feel it too, but the negotiation must come first.”

  “Or I can make you come and then we’ll negotiate,” he whispered in her ear.

  Temptation tingled down her spine. It had been so long since she’d shared pleasure with anyone. Her sexual experience wasn’t extensive, but she knew how good it could feel. “We shouldn’t.”

  “Do you always do what you should?” With his arm still encircling her waist, he led her to one of the long sofas facing the expansive window. He paused for a long, deep kiss, then urged her down onto the sofa on her back.

  “What if someone sees us?” She motioned toward the city beyond.

  “The windows are tinted. No one can see in, now relax and let me touch you.”

  He eased her legs apart and knelt on the seat cushion. Her skirt bunched around her hips, but he pushed it even higher. She shivered again, and uncertainty tainted her desire. If she let him join their bodies, there would be no turning back. “Letos, I don’t want to—”

  “I know. We’re not going to. This is about you.”

  He leaned down and soothed her with a long tender kiss. His lips caressed and his tongue stroked gently over hers, but his hands still moved, rearranging her clothing to give him assess to her sex. Then he slid one of his arms beneath her neck, supporting himself on his forearm while his other hand eased inside her undergarment.

  His mouth stilled and he groaned. “You’re so wet.” His tone was so dark and needful, she wasn’t sure if he was pleased by the discovery.

  Needing to understand his reaction, she lightly scanned his mind. Hunger and excitement blazed across the connection, inflaming her desire. Oh, he was thrilled by her response, but it made him anxious for more than she was ready to give. His fingers teased her folds, giving her time to accept his touch.

  “Only what you want, love. Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispered the words against her kiss-moistened lips and another tremor passed through her body.

  “I ache,” she admitted, then tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him.

  He gently parted her folds and slipped two fingers into her needy core.

  She groaned then turned her head aside, unable to think of anything but his touch. He slid his fingers in and out as she rocked her hips, deepening the substitute penetration. “I think that’s worse.” She whimpered.

  Before she realized what he intended, he rocked back onto his knees and used both hands to pull her undergarment off. She gasped and reached for her bunched skirt, but he grasped the bend of her knees and spread her legs wide.

  “Letos,” she cried, shocked by his boldness. But then he lowered his head between her thighs and rational thought scattered. His lips caressed her, his tongue tracing her slit while his warm hands moved up and down her thighs. It was wicked and decadent, but she couldn’t move, could only feel the sensations spiraling through her body.

  His excitement rivaled hers, which made her even more excited. He wasn’t doing this to seduce her into letting him claim her. He honestly enjoyed giving her pleasure. His lips closed around her clit and everything became a blur of sensation and urgency. She arched, pressing herself against his mouth, but her orgasm remained just out of reach.

  Then he pushed his fingers back inside her and focused his mouth entirely on her clit. Pleasure coiled through her abdomen, drawing her inner muscles tight around his fingers. One final draw from his lips shattered her control and sent her senses soaring beyond reality.

  He brought her back down with tender licks and featherlight kisses until she lay sprawled and trembling. “We have to stop,” she whispered, feeling selfish yet replete.

  “Only if you say we do.” He slowly drew his fingers out and licked her cream from his skin. “Gods you taste good.”

  She flipped down her skirt then covered her face with her hands. “What is wrong with me? I’m never this wanton.”

  He pulled her hands away from her face and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “There is nothing wanton about sharing pleasure with your mate.” His breath smelled like her sex, an inescapable reminder of her surrender.

  “Stop it.” She shoved against his chest. “I shouldn’t have let you do this.”

  “I’m not sure you could have stopped me.” He grinned, but shifted to sit beside her on the sofa. “I’ve thought of nothing but touching you since we met.”

  She swung her legs to the floor then stood, frantically looking around for her undergarment. “What did you do with my…” He held them out then motioned toward her feet. She closed her eyes as embarrassment and echoes of pleasure washed over her. Then she stepped into the undergarment and let him pull them up along her legs. She pushed her headband more securely into place and tucked a loosened strand of hair behind her ear. As soon as Xorran saw her he’d know what they’d been doing.

  Letos’s hands were still under her skirt, which made her feel even naughtier as he caressed his way back down. “If you’re feeling the pull too, it won’t stop.” He looked up at her, his expression suddenly serious. “The need grows stronger and stronger until we give in completely.” His eyes narrowed and suspicion hardened his expression. “Why are you feeling the pull? You’re Bilarrian.”

  He was her mate, the other half of her soul. She couldn’t keep lying to him. “I’m half Bilarrian,” she admitted with a sigh. “My father was Rodyte.”

  His expression didn’t change but he pulled his hands out from under her skirt and then stood. “Are you really Queen Aurelia’s granddaughter?”

  “I am.” She paused for another sigh, then rushed through the rest. “My mother was a war bride. We lived on Rodymia until my father’s death, then we returned t
o Bilarri. We lived in a cottage far away from court until my mother died as well. Then my grandmother sent men to fetch me and they brought me to the palace where I’ve lived ever since.”

  “Your mother was not welcome at court?” He clasped his hands behind his back as he watched her intently.

  She shook her head. “It was the other way around. My mother wanted nothing to do with court. She still saw my two half-brothers, but she refused to speak to the queen.”

  “I meant to ask you about that. What happened to her consort, the man who fathered her sons?”

  “He was killed in battle two years before she was captured. Theirs was not a love match, but she was still saddened by his passing.”

  “And why did she refuse to speak to the queen?”

  His expression was inscrutable now and tension began to knot her belly. “They fought bitterly when Mother decided to stay with my father rather than returning to Bilarri.”

  In the same nearly monotone voice, he asked, “When was this?”

  “When I was nine.”

  “Why did he wait so long to free her? That’s not how it’s usually done.”

  This was starting to feel like an interrogation rather than a friendly conversation. “He didn’t want her to leave, but he loved her too much to keep her prisoner. No one would believe it of him, but my father was very devoted to my mother and me.”

  Letos released his hands and let his arms hang at his sides. “Why would no one believe your father capable of love? Who was he?”

  His expression didn’t change, but triumph surged from him, blasting her empathic receptors. He knew! She had no idea how he’d found out, but Letos already knew about her father. This tender scene had been a clever trap meant to coax a confession from her.

  “You bastard,” she snapped, and then slapped him hard across the face.

  He looked confused for a second, then anger ignited his gaze. “You cannot play the wounded party here. You lied to me.”

  She didn’t dignify the claim with a response. She turned and rushed across the room.

  Letos caught up to her as she reached the door. “Let me explain.”

  She ignored him and threw the door open so fast he had to jump back to avoid being hit. She grabbed Xorran by the wrist and teleported to the Endeavor without another word.

  * * * * *

  Xorran stumbled out of the vortex with a groan. Gods how he hated teleporting. “What was that about? Why are you so angry?”

  The princess whirled to face him, eyes glowing with barely contained rage. “It was a setup. They know who I am. I have no idea how they found out, but they know.” Without giving him an opportunity to respond, she turned back around and stormed off down the corridor.

  So was the mission over? Did she intend to pack up her toys and go home? It only took two hours to reach Bilarri. It was more than likely she’d fire up the ship and run home to grandma. He’d never understand why they sent a princess into battle in the first place. Even if it was just a battle of words.

  Heaving a frustrated sigh, he headed for his cabin. Paytor needed to be updated immediately. Queen Aurelia might accept this failure, but AG Paytor would not. The bolder the rebels became, the more determined Paytor was to stop them. No, Paytor had surpassed determination weeks ago. The man was obsessed with destroying the rebels in general and Garin Nox in particular.

  Xorran stepped inside his cabin and activated his integrated com-system. Paytor didn’t immediately respond to the ping. Had the Triumphant moved out of range? Unlikely. The ship had covert shields that rendered it undetectable to sensors as well as the naked eye. Every time the ship was moved, on the other hand, its sheer size created detectible disturbances. That was why Paytor had found an out-of-the-way sector on the edge of Rodyte controlled space and he’d simply stayed there, watching and listening to every move the rebels made. If he had a reason to leave the Triumphant, then he took one of the smaller ships.

  Paytor finally responded to Xorran’s ping, so he refocused on the present.

  “Report,” Paytor barked with his usual abruptness.

  Following his example, Xorran got right to the point. “My assignment’s cover is blown. They figured out who she is.”

  “How is that possible? I searched their central databank myself. There was nothing connecting your assignment with her mother. Even her mother is barely mentioned.”

  “I don’t know, sir, but I heard it from my assignment directly.”

  Paytor rattled off a string of progressively more profane phrases, then fell silent.

  Xorran understood the reaction. He was irritated too. But he needed direction, not an outlet for his frustration. “I suspect the old lady will abandon us. What’s our next move?”

  “I’d hoped to avoid more drastic measures, but I see no other choice now. We cannot install our choice until the current situation drastically changes.”

  Dread dropped into the pit of Xorran’s stomach. He knew Paytor well enough to guess where this was leading. “How do you want the situation changed?”

  “Permanently. This requires a lethal solution, something that can’t be misunderstood.”

  Xorran closed his eyes, knowing what came next. “And you want me to see to this personally?”

  “Of course,” the general snapped. “You’re already in place. There’s no reason to start over.”

  “And who is my new target?”

  Apparently tired of the subtleties, Paytor broke his own rule and detailed his expectations. “Kill Letos and make it look like a battle born assassin. That should be enough to rid our lives of this nuisance once and for all. After the Triad implodes and the people turn on the rebels, I’ll calmly suggest the princess as a viable alternative to these radical changes. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” The response was automatic, but Xorran felt ill. Mirella was right. Paytor was insane. The war was already lost, and still he refused to acknowledge defeat.

  “Good. Com me when it’s over.”

  Xorran stared straight ahead as his ears began to ring. Killing the enemy was part of battle. He was no stranger to violence, but what Paytor expected was murder. Coldblooded, premeditated, murder.

  If he refused a direct order, he’d be court-martialed or worse, Paytor would send someone after him. Yet assassinating a guild master was out of the question. If he approached the battle born, would they believe Paytor’s second-in-command was ready to join the rebellion? Unlikely.

  Surprised by the direction of his own thoughts, Xorran shook his head. Was he ready to turn his back on a lifetime of honor and dedication to join the battle born rebellion?

  For the first time in Xorran’s life, he honestly had no idea what to do.

  * * * * *

  Mirella paced Queen Aurelia’s presence chamber. The room was much smaller and less ostentatious than the throne room. The throne room was used to intimidate visitors who needed to understand Aurelia’s power, while the presence chamber was meant to put visitors at ease and make them feel welcome. Mirella was glad she’d been taken to the less formal setting, but she didn’t feel at ease.

  Queen Aurelia entered a few minutes later, looking regal and splendid as always. Her gown was an elegant blending of jewel tones and her white hair was styled in a braided coronet rather than requiring a headdress. “Back so soon?”

  The casual humor in her grandmother’s tone caught Mirella by surprise. The queen had to realize the mission had failed, so why wasn’t she angry. “I’m not sure how, but they figured out who I am.”

  “I would have been shocked if they hadn’t.” Motioning her toward the plush sofa, the queen sat beside Mirella. “One of their monarchs legitimized the daughter of his last war bride. That sort of thing doesn’t go on without notice.”

  “Then why did you send me, if you knew I’d be exposed as a fake.” She tended to use more hand gestures when she was upset, so she folded her hands in her lap.

  “You were never in any danger, but I needed to see how th
ey’d react to an unexpected rival with a legitimate claim to the throne. I needed to know if their interest in peace was legitimate or not.”

  Mirella stilled as possibilities raced through her mind. “You needed to ‘see’ how they reacted?” Resentment suddenly spiked her pulse. “You mean that literally, don’t you?”

  A wily smile parted Aurelia’s lips, but she looked away. “The circuitry in your headband might have been a bit more sophisticated than a panic button.”

  “You spied on me.” And not just in her cabin on the Endeavor. The queen had watched and listened to everything that took place while Mirella was on Rodymia. The observatory, the queen had been watching while Letos pleasured her! At first she felt betrayed by the invasion, but anger quickly burned through the hurt. She shot to her feet, hands clenched at her sides. “If you didn’t trust me to assess the situation, why send me at all?”

  “It’s not a matter of trust. You are what I have made you.”

  “What the hells is that supposed to mean?” She was too angry to care that her tone was disrespectful and her posture was overly aggressive. She’d been manipulated from the start, but it wasn’t the Rodytes who had twisted the situation. She’d been betrayed by her own grandmother.

  “My top priority since your mother’s death has been keeping you safe.” Queen Aurelia pushed to her feet and slowly approached Mirella. “I’m not a fool. I know this isolated you, kept you ignorant of the uglier aspects of life.”

  “I’m not as ignorant as you make me sound,” Mirella protested.

  “No, but you’re innocent, perhaps even naïve.” She halted Mirella’s next objection with an upraised hand. “I only point this out to validate my decision to spy on you.”

  “I’m such an ignorant fool that I needed to be watched every moment I was out of the palace? That’s incredibly insulting.”

  Queen Aurelia shook her head, looking tired all of a sudden. “You’re being needlessly difficult. I spied on you because you’re incapable of the sort of deceit this mission required. That’s why your cover story was kept so close to the truth. You’ve never been able to lie convincingly. I knew someone like Letos would see right through you.”