Jullien shrugged adorably. "I don't know. It's part of the CAS I developed in school."
"CAS?"
"Contentious Asshole Syndrome. It made my grandmother and instructors insane, which delighted me to no uncertain end."
Laughing, she kissed him. "Well, I find it charming and it gives me a reason to malehandle you."
He sucked his breath in sharply as she brushed her hand against his abdomen. "Then I'm glad I developed it so early that it's now an ingrained habit."
"Mum? Paka? Are you ready?"
"We're ready, Veelee," Ushara called, stepping past Jullien to open the bedroom door. "Are you?"
Vasili was on the other side in full face paint for his Confirmation--something the two of them had requested Unira delay to the next cycle of candidates when Jullien had gone missing, since Vasili had wanted Jullien here for the ceremony.
Jullien's breath caught as he saw that it wasn't Altaan and Davers painted on Vasili's face.
It was Altaan and Samari.
Vas hesitated as he saw Jullien's stunned expression. "Is it all right that I did this, Paka?"
Recovering from the initial shock, Jullien pulled him in for a hug. "Absolutely. I'm more honored than you'll ever know. It just caught me off-guard. You are more than welcome to everything I have. Especially my name."
Ushara swallowed back her tears at the sight of them. She was grateful how much the two of them loved one another. Her greatest regret had always been not having a father for Vasili.
What amazed her was that Jullien had never tried to replace Chaz in either of their lives. Yet he couldn't love Vas any more had he been his real father. He doted on him constantly, in ways that continually floored her. She'd never seen any male love a child who wasn't his so thoroughly.
Her gaze went to Vas's door where Jullien had even painted the Gorturnum screaming skull logo against a solid black background with the words Vasili the Brave and Terrible circling it--that had been the one change to the house he'd wanted to make that he'd asked about on his return.
Jullien had done the same thing inside his ship and hers for Vas to counteract the "overwhelming" feminine influences that she'd unwittingly subjected her poor son to--something she hadn't even been aware of until Jullien had moved in and she'd seen them together. Even though she'd grown up sandwiched between her unruly brothers, she'd never been so keenly aware of the male code of conduct until now, and it amused her how they playfully teamed up against her to tease her until she smiled and laughed about it.
A knock sounded on their door.
Vasili went to answer it while Ushara turned toward Jullien. "We'll resume our fight later. And I will win it. So prepare yourself mentally for your eventual defeat."
With an irritable mumbling under his breath, he followed her to the front where her family was fussing about running late. Little Nadya ran straight to Jullien for her ritual ride to temple in his arms.
While they walked on ahead, Mary grabbed her. "Have you told him?"
"Not yet. Shh! He'll hear you."
Her sister scoffed at her. "You have to tell him." She mouthed the words at her.
"No!" she mouthed back. If she told Jullien she was pregnant, he'd never leave to finish his citizenship training. He was too afraid of his cousin harming them. Since the school incident, he hadn't slept through a single night.
He'd hardwired their house with the most frightening security system she'd ever seen in her life. Both she and Vasili wore rings that transmitted their vital signs to his link at all times.
And he checked it constantly anytime they were out of his sight.
She could barely go to the bathroom alone now. In fact, Jullien walked only slightly ahead and continually stepped back to check where both she and Vasili were peripherally to ensure they were with the group. She was amazed he didn't insist on a tether line for them.
He really was that ridiculous.
But at least most of her family was slowly acclimating to him as her husband.
Kirill, Gavin, and Klavdii, and their branch, notwithstanding. In fact, they wouldn't even walk with them to temple anymore. And they sat away from them during service. Which was probably for the best, given Jullien's hostile, unforgiving temperament where they were concerned.
And hers.
Unira greeted them as they approached the temple. "There's my beautiful boy." She winked at Jullien. "Has he behaved this week, m'tina?"
"Not too much bloodshed, High Mother. No arrests. He's getting better."
The priestess touched Jullien's cheek where Ushara had painted the Samari symbols on his face. "Are you still heading out in the morning with Davel's crew?"
He glanced to Ushara. "Depends on who wins our fight tonight."
Unira laughed. "In that case, after the ceremony, I should like to exord him before we send him out."
Ushara smiled at them. "I think that's a great idea."
"You say that now," Jullien said churlishly. "Until the holy water touches my flesh, starts to boil, and we burn down the temple. For that matter, we're all lucky I don't burst into flames whenever I walk beneath the arches."
With a gentle push, Ushara urged him forward. "We're holding up the line. Go, you silly zumi."
He obeyed without another comment.
When Jullien started to sit off with her parents, Vasili stopped him.
"I wanted both my parents with me. If that's all right, Paka?"
Jullien brushed his hand through Vasili's hair and nodded. "Absolutely." He offered his arm to Ushara and allowed them to lead him to the candidate section.
It was still strange to him that Vasili accepted him as his father without hesitation. More used to being rebuked, Jullien continued to have a hard time being part of their family. Every time, he automatically expected Ushara or Vasili to hurt him.
They never did.
He wondered if his stomach would ever stop habitually shrinking in expectation of being rejected. If he'd ever grow accustomed to this new existence where they didn't kick or hurt him. He was trying, but it was so difficult when he'd lived defensively for his whole life.
His gaze went to Ushara's family.
No. His family now. Why did he have such a hard time accepting that? Over the last few weeks, they'd gone out of their way to prove to him that he really was a member of their nyth.
And yet ...
He kept waiting for the betrayal to come. For them to throw him into a hole or sell him off again.
Davel inclined his head at him and smiled as he held his infant son in his arms. Maksim. Their other son was named after the cousin who currently wasn't speaking to him because of Jullien. Davel's daughter, Yasha, lay curled against her mother. Fara was a beautiful blonde, but she paled in comparison to Ushara.
Jullien had mixed emotions about Fara since she was essentially the reason he was here. For that, he owed her his entire life and existence. But for Fara and her insistence that Ushara loosen her hold on Vasili, he'd be dead now.
Yet that insistence had put the boy in danger, and like his wife, that angered him at the female. So Jullien treated Fara with polite deference.
And she was utterly terrified of him. Anytime he neared her, she ran like the Korilon himself was after her.
He had yet to formally meet Ushara's brother Dimitri who had been with her at Steradore. The one they'd all warned him would hate him most.
Perhaps it was a blessing they'd been kept apart.
Ushara reached over and took his hand. Jullien's heart sped up at the contact. Glancing over, he smiled at her.
"You all right?" she whispered.
He nodded. But it was a lie. He wasn't used to this sense of normal. Like wearing a pair of oversized shoes that had been stretched to someone else's feet. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se.
Just didn't feel quite right.
Not to mention, he still had that feeling he was being watched. That someone had eyes on him. No matter what he did or where he went, he couldn't shake it.
There were times, when he swore he could feel Nyran or his grandmother standing over him.
Even now.
By the time the solemn religious ceremony was done and the young candidates who'd been confirmed were free to mingle with friends and family, he was having a hard time breathing and focusing as Ushara led him toward the open area that was decorated for the public temple party and celebration. The crowd was thick with extended family and celebrants.
And still his paranoia persisted. Even though he knew there couldn't be any other Ixurianir here. In this sea of pale blond Fyrebloods, they'd stand out as much as he did.
Ushara called out to him. "Jules?"
He drew a deep breath and mentally shook himself as he tried to keep her from knowing his state of unrest and shoved his panic attack down. "Yes, mu taru?" he answered, using the Andarion term that meant lady of my heart.
"Do you dance?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "Of course I do."
With an impish grin that made him so hard it was extremely uncomfortable, she crooked her finger for him. Worse? She started dancing in a small crowd with her sisters before he reached her. In a circle, they joined hands and swayed their hips in perfect synchronization. Then broke apart to move their hands and shoulders in a provocative swaying beat that thrummed through every fiber of his being.
Damn ... she was the most seductive female to ever breathe. No tara should be that limber or sensual. Then again, he was glad that if one had to exist, that she belonged to him and that he had the privilege of tasting those moves all night long when she wasn't in her clothes.
And when she took his hand and began to dance with him, he was grateful for every long, frustrating, and tedious afternoon his grandmother had insisted he endure lessons in spite of his endless whining against them.
Ushara's laughter filled his ears as she danced with him. "You've been holding out on me, mi tiri."
He wrapped his arms around her as they swayed toward the ground. "You never asked me about this."
"True, but now that I know what you can do ... you're going to be doing a lot more of it."
He grinned down at her. "Trevisa, Ger Tarra. Bauertui haefre." Yes, my lady. I am forever your servant.
But as the song finished, Jullien realized that they had attracted a lot of attention from the Fyrebloods who didn't normally attend temple with them. Or if they did, they hadn't noticed him among their congregation as he usually sat in the back and stayed seated throughout the liturgy.
Instinctively, he put himself in front of Ushara and kept one hand on her waist as whispers echoed, and malevolent stares focused on them.
To his shock, it was her grandfather who came forward to stand with them against the gathering angry crowd that was starting to demand Jullien's scalp be mounted on the wall.
"What's going on?" Vidarri asked.
One of the more hostile members Jullien didn't know neared them. "What is this darkheart doing here, desecrating our holy place?"
Vidarri lifted his chin. "He's a Samari."
The male curled his lip in repugnance. "You dishonor their nobility and memory by painting him as one. But it doesn't make it so."
"He's a Samari by blood and DNA." Still dressed in her full high priestess's robes, Unira came to stand beside Jullien. "He's also my son--fully Vested and acknowledged as such by me. He's a Fyreblood with as much right to be here as anyone."
"Prove it." That cry was taken up by the entire crowd.
"He doesn't need to prove himself."
Jullien gaped at Vidarri. That stunned him. But when Petran, Katira, and the elder Nadya took positions beside him and agreed, he was absolutely floored. Never before had any family stood at his side to defend him.
Ever.
Nadya glared at the crowd around them. "Dagger is a member of the great house of Altaan. If you take issue with him, you have issue with us. All of us."
Ushara took his arm and placed it around her waist so that she could splay his hand over her stomach and hold it there. In Andarion culture, it was a matriarchal declaration of family and a powerful statement for a female to make since they didn't normally touch each other in public, especially so intimately. It was the same as saying she would kill or die to protect him. That he, alone, was hers.
Likewise, her grandmother and mother each placed their hands on his shoulders.
Jullien's eyes watered, forcing him to blink quickly as unshed tears choked him. This was the first time in his life he'd truly felt like part of a family. He couldn't even begin to describe what it meant to him that they were willing to make this stand on his behalf.
And when her sisters moved in to stand at his back and touch him ...
An unfamiliar warmth spread through his entire body. With it came the rage and hatred he knew all too well--that furious need to shove back whenever he was pushed.
"You dare question the honor of my family and especially the word of mu Ger Tarra Samari?" Jullien challenged the group.
His gaze never leaving the bastard who'd first spoken, Jullien gently lifted Ushara's hand from his stomach to place a kiss in her palm. Then he removed his glasses and handed them to her.
As soon as they saw the color, those around him gasped and shrank back.
Yeah, bitches, you better run ...
With his fury mounting, Jullien stepped away from the Altaans so as not to hurt them, and let the powers he'd been working on with Unira for the last two months rip through him. Fire shot down his arms and to his hands. Something as a male Fyreblood he shouldn't be able to do, but apparently stralen wasn't the only mutation his father's screwed-up genetic donation had caused.
He let the fireballs fly out straight to the one who'd spoken.
Opening his mouth, he spewed his fiery venom at them. One thing about the Samaris, they didn't just breathe fire, they controlled it better than any of the other bloodlines. It was what had always made them the deadliest of the Fyrebloods and why they were the first among the Pavakahir lineages.
Several members of the crowd screamed and ran. Others stood completely still as they realized who and what he really was.
Dampening his fire, Jullien cornered the one who'd been rudest and dragged him toward Ushara. He forced the prick to kneel on the ground in front of her. "Apologize to mu Ger Tarra Samari and her family."
"M-m-my apologies."
"And mu matarra."
"Forgive me, High Mother."
Jullien finally released him. "Any other questions you have about the veracity of my lineage?"
"N-n-no, Gur Tana."
"Good. By the way, you should never, ever overestimate my affection for Androkyn in general or any particular desire I have to preserve your individual lives."
Petran let out a long, weary sigh as he shook his head.
Ushara laughed. "Well, Paka, he is a work in progress. And we've come a long way. He didn't shoot or kill anyone, this time."
"Only because you made him leave the blasters at home," Davel said under his breath.
Her grandfather snorted. "Don't be so hard on the boy. They wanted to see him make fire. He gave them what they asked for. I got no problem with it."
Her maternal grandfather, Carak, clapped a hand on Jullien's shoulder. "Proud of you, tana. It does my old heart good to see such spirit. Reminds me of my own Korilon-be-damned fire-in-the-gut I had at your age. I was a bastard soul on its way to Tophet myself until the day Katira's mother tamed me. You think we were hard on you? You should have seen the way her father and brothers reacted when she brought me home the first time."
Katira gasped. "You never told me any of this."
"Not something a father tells his daughter. I didn't want you to take up the challenge. And it worked. You picked a male with a quiet, peaceful disposition for your husband."
Petran stiffened. "Why do I feel suddenly insulted?"
Laughing, Carak popped him so hard on the back, he stumbled forward. "You've been the perfect balm for my Katira. There's no other son I'd want for her." He jerked his chin at Jullien. "But I'm glad to see a Kadurr back in our bloodline. Keeps things interesting, eh, Vidarri?"
Jullien scowled as Vidarri and Carak walked off together, commiserating about the good old days. He glanced down at Ushara. "Did your grandfathers just admit to actually liking me?"
"I think they did."
"This has got to be a sign of the Ormadum. I can't leave tomorrow. You're going to need me for the End Times."
"Oh my God ... Jules! Really? We're back to this fight already?" Ushara rolled her eyes at him. "Am I going to have to bash you on the head, knock you unconscious, and carry you on board?"
"Probably. You'll need a lot of help, though. I weigh a shit-ton. I also suggest Trajen. He's the only one here large enough to beat my ass with impunity."
Laughing, she kissed his surly lips until he smiled again. As the crowd dispersed and the music returned, he slowly began to relax and enjoy the rest of the night.
By the end of it, the young males and females who'd been confirmed came together for a final dance and to show off their fire skills.
Jullien wrapped his arms around Ushara's shoulders and held her as they watched Vasili.
In two parallel lines, the group stood, facing each other. Vasili slid an eager glance toward them as he pulled his Thinsan-boll--a sacred, elaborately embroidered thick ribbon that held a large ball at each end--from his neck. As they'd been confirmed earlier, each of the balls had been dipped in blessed oils for the ceremony, then Unira had placed the ribbon around their necks.
Starting at opposite ends, each of them used their incendiary breath to light the balls so that they could begin swinging them by their ribbons in a beautiful, choreographed dance.
Ushara tilted her head back so that she could watch Jullien's face. "You don't have anything like this for your confirmations, do you?"
"No. Ours are much more somber events. With candles that we light through more conventional means."
She caressed his forearms while they watched their son. "Are you ready to join our world completely and leave behind everything you grew up with?"
He glanced down at her. "I told you, Shara, I had no life before I met you. Nyk should have gutted me the night I betrayed his wife into the hands of his enemy. It would have been the kindest thing he could have done for me back then. But I'm grateful that he showed restraint and mercy when he had no reason to do so. And for what I have now, I owe him a debt that I can never repay."
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