by Luna Hunter
“Where?” Pip chuckles.
Dru snaps a picture of herself and sends it to Pip. A moment later her loud gasp fills Dru’s pointy ears.
“It worked?!” Pip says.
“What do you mean?” Dru asks. “You hacked the system, right?!”
“I, uhh, yeah, sure. Of course.”
“You hacked it a bit too well, because you coupled me with all three Xhakans. Still, excellent job!”
“Don’t worry about it, haha,” Pip laughs nervously.
Dru knows that tone. You don’t survive on the streets of Holanis without being able to read people’s intentions.
“What are you saying? You didn’t hack the system?”
“Don’t get mad,” Pip says. “But I’m not, uhh, totally sure. Like I said, the Celestial Mates tech is otherworldly. I got as far as putting your data in the system. I said you were available and looking for a partner, and after that the system shut me out entirely…”
The news washes over Drusilla like a cold shower. Here she thought she was duping the three Xhakans, and feeling ashamed for it. Toying with people’s emotions is not how she prefers to operate — if she has to shoot someone, she prefers their face to their back. However, extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures, and this planned meeting with the Djall King was not something she could pass up… but every time she looked into the eyes of one of the Xhakan’s, her mind was plagued with guilt…
And now the tables have turned.
“Do you think the Celestial Mates are for real?” Pip asks. “Do you think you really have a, what do they call it, a soul-bond with these three Xhakans?”
Her voice can barely contain her excitement. If anyone loves a good love story, it’s Pip.
“Oh my stars, Dru, I’m so happy for you!” She continues. “Even though the Gulzin Syndicate is going to hunt you down for desertion, of course, but you’ve got three Xhakans to take care of you now!”
“Take care of me?” Dru says. “I don’t need anyone… as a matter of fact, I have to go.”
She drops the connection, letting her comm fall to the floor, as she stares, bleary-eyed, at the reflection in the mirror.
This place is fit for a princess, but she’s anything but. Dressed like a soldier, with beige, baggy clothes, a cap that hides her pointy ears, and her hair a knotted, tangled mess.
Could it be true? Am I really mated to three fucking Xhakans?!
Drusilla’s thoughts are all over the place. This new bit of information changes everything. All she wanted was revenge on the Djall King, but now…
No, she thinks. No. She holds onto that anger, that rage, and she lets it take away all of her doubts and insecurities. That anger has always driven her, and she lets it take the wheel once more. As long as she has that rage, she has a goal. A purpose.
However, the three Xhakans have set up shop somewhere in the back of her mind, and those wicked thoughts don’t let themselves be silenced without a fight. Drusilla strips away her clothing and admires her curvy, naked figure in the mirror. No man has ever laid eyes on her unclothed skin before. Dru’s never let anyone get that close to her. Who will be the first? Ragnar, Kolos? Aksel?
She saunters towards the massive shower, as grand as anything on this ship, as the thoughts of the warriors makes her tingle all over. On the Gulzin ship, she shared her bunk with three other soldiers. Privacy was at a premium, and her ‘shower’ was something you had to fold yourself into. Compared to that, this is absolute heaven. The warm water cools her jangling nerves, her soapy hands sliding down her body.
Who will be her first, she thinks to herself. It’s so hard to choose…
Chapter Six
“Well,” Aksel says. “This is unexpected. A shared mate…”
“I thought this might happen,” Kolos says. “Our connection is too strong.”
“I suppose it’s true what I learned at the War Akademi,” Ragnar sighs. “No plan survives contact with the enemy.”
“You consider Drusilla the enemy?” Aksel says.
Ragnar waves his hand. “It’s a figure of speech. It means that no matter how much you plan, nothing prepares you for reality. However, I wouldn’t mind conquering her,” he grins.
The bearded Xhakan grabs a bottle of granit and pours them all a glass which they knock back. The brothers have taken off their heavy armors, preferring loose fitting robes, adorned with golden stitches. The colors of the robes are aligned with their respective Akademies: Deep red for Ragnar, icy blue for Kolos and a warm green for Aksel.
“I think that goes for all of us,” Kolos says as he savors the taste of the Xhakan liquor.
“I’m not sure she’s ready for it,” Aksel says. “Not yet. I sense a lot of hesitation.”
“She might never be ready for us,” Kolos adds. “The Celestial Mates could be wrong.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“No,” Kolos says after searching his feelings. When he first laid eyes on the female, something stirred inside of him. An awakening. She is their mate. Their destinuar.
“I hope you’re not planning to continue with your foolish plan, brother,” Aksel says to Ragnar. “She is no longer just your mate — she belongs to all of us now.”
“Of course not,” Ragnar growls. “What do you take me for? I would never do that to you two.”
Ragnar rests his head between his hands, sighing deeply.
“This was the one shot we had at saving Emla… a long shot, for sure, but we had a chance. That’s what I learned at the Akademi… to strategize, to plan, to lead… even if you have a small shot at victory: Never surrender. Never give up. Take your chances. And look where it got us? All I did was make a damn mess of things.”
“That’s unfair to the female,” Kolos says. “Yes, we are all saddened by the loss of our sister. We must bring her back, no matter the costs, but we can’t let that ruin this moment. We have found a mate, brothers — a mate for all three of us! Personally, I couldn’t think of a better group to spend the rest of my life with.”
The three brothers clink their glasses together in celebration as their thoughts turn to Drusilla.
“Father will be… I don’t know,” Aksel says. “Father is hard to read at times. What do you think, Kolos? You’re the diplomat of the group.”
“Ha, now you want my opinion?” Kolos chuckles. “I thought it only got on your nerves when I told you two how the world really works.”
“You’re his favorite,” Ragnar smirks. “Indulge us.”
“Truth be told, father will be mightily pleased — he’ll only have to pay for one mating ceremony instead of three!”
The three men burst out laughing simultaneously. For the first time since they heard the news of Emla’s abduction, the men are smiling.
Their graduation from their respective Akademies was supposed to be a day of joy, but the bad news ruined that. Guilt weighs heavily on all three. They weren’t on Valkronis to protect Emla, and even now the reports of what transpired are still vague and inconsistent.
Apparently, the Djall King and Vladimir Velo bartered a peace, ending the conflict that has torn Valkronis apart for centuries, but only after the Djall King had made his final move and taken Emla captive. How their father could ever let such a thing slide is beyond all three Xhakans, and they are filled with burning questions.
“On a serious note,” Kolos says, “we must confront Father and get to the bottom of this. One way or another, we are saving Emla. Agreed?”
The other two Xhakans nod. “Agreed.”
“Who is Emla?”
The three brothers turn around and gasp in unison. Before them stands a vision of pure, unbridled beauty. Drusilla has changed clothes, and it seems a true metamorphosis has taken place.
Her scruffy, baggy outfit has been replaced by a sheer, white and gold tunic that hugs the many curves of her body perfectly. She was beautiful before; now she is irresistible.
“This is all I could find,” Dru says as she r
uns her hands down the soft fabric.
The garment has clearly been designed for a Xhakan female, who are generally taller and slimmer than humans. Luckily, the material is stretchy enough that she could wiggle her way in, but the way it accentuates her hips and breasts is unfamiliar to Drusilla.
The smoldering look the three Xhakans are giving her is making her feel all hot and bothered. She’s always hidden her femininity and her sexuality, and now it’s on full display. The same could be said for the three Xhakans. Their bulky armor is gone, replaced by comfortable, colorful robes, tied loose around their waists with a gold ribbon. Their massive, broad chests are completely bared.
Just looking at them makes Drusilla’s heart race. Her eyes dart from one impressive body to the next, and she feels like it’s her birthday.
All of that goodness — for me?!
“You look amazing,” Ragnar growls. His deep voice makes Dru weak at the knees. With one quick step he reaches her, and the next moment he scoops her up into his arms, his mouth finding hers.
He kisses her.
Just like that, Drusilla finds herself locked in the strong Xhakan’s hold, one hand on her neck, the other on her lower back, as his firm lips cover hers. She closes her eyes and surrenders for a quick moment as his powerful tongue brushes against her bottom lip. Her entire body quivers, yet as she feels his hands on her, she knows everything is going to be okay in the end. She feels safe. His scent surround her, his manly musk making her feel so hot and bothered she wants to tear both of their robes off and just…
Drusilla pulls back, pressing her palms against Ragnar’s strong, muscled chest.
Damn, that feels good.
“Hold on,” she pants, her knees wobbling. “This is all going too fast.”
Ragnar takes a step back and nods, giving her some space. “I did not mean to overwhelm you, Drusilla.”
“Call me Dru,” she says, glancing up. She can’t help but bite her bottom lip as she takes in his greatness. In the back of her mind there’s a strong voice that is cussing her out for pulling away. The feel of his strong body against hers was amazing, and that first kiss was… magic.
Her first ever kiss.
That’s not something she’ll admit to. The walls Dru has erected around her heart are made of Corlizian Steel. She’s never let those walls down for anyone. Not ever.
And yet, this tall, bearded Xhakan just waltzed right through, leaving her breathless and confused. And extremely turned on.
Aksel grabs her hand and gently leads her to a fine leather chair, where she can catch her breath. He places a drink in her hand, one that smells of exotic spices. She takes a sip and it burns all the way down, yet the aftertaste is wonderful; nutty and spicy. As she sips on the drink, her heart rate goes down — until she sees the massive bugle in Ragnar’s tunic.
Holy stars.
Luckily, Kolos sits down across from her, and his silver eyes demand her full attention.
“We have a lot of explaining to do,” he says, and his gentle smiles puts Drusilla at ease.
“I have to say, I’m a bit overwhelmed. It’s not everyday you’re surrounded by Xhakan Royalty.”
“Ah, so you know who we are. What gave it away?”
Drusilla spreads her hands wide. “Everything,” she laughs.”
“Then you have us at a disadvantage. You know who we are, yet we know very little of you. Please, tell us about yourself.”
Drusilla takes another sip of the alien liquid as she thinks it over. She’s used to keeping all of her cards close to the vest, yet she feels oddly relaxed around these three giants. Still, she does not allow herself to trust them fully. That is too risky. If they knew who she really was — the daughter of the Djall King — who knows what they might do? They seem friendly now… but that’s not enough to trust them with her life.
“I’m nobody,” she lies.
For the first time in her life she feels guilty about lying. Dru tries to shake the feeling off with another sip of her drink. This is not the time to grow a conscience. She’s closer to revenge than she’s ever been.
Come on, stupid heart. Don’t you go soft on me.
“Nobody?” Aksel says. “And you expect us to believe that? There’s got to more to you than that.”
“Well, yeah,” Dru chuckles, “But I’m not as interesting as any of you. I’m just a scrapper, trying to get by.”
“Do all snappers carry Xenon II hand cannons?” Ragnar asks. “I see you left your weapon in your room.”
“Ah, you know your weapons?” Dru says. She had it tucked away nice and secure, but he still noticed.
“I saw the outline,” he says. “It’s very… distinct.”
As his intense eyes scan her frame, Dru wonders what other outlines he’s picking up…
“Yes, if you work on Gomorral, then you need a hand cannon, unfortunately,” she says. “Honestly, I’m just not that interesting.”
And this time, as far as she’s concerned, she’s telling the whole truth. These guys are royalty, masters of their craft. When they talk, people listen. Dru on the other hand has felt invisible most of her life.
“What about your parents?”
“I’m an orphan,” Dru answers.
Another lie, but this one doesn’t sting. The Djall King has never been around, for so all intents and purposes, she’s an orphan. And after she finds him, well… she’ll definitely be an orphan after that.
“Sorry to hear that,” Aksel says.
“Don’t be, it’s okay. I’m used to being on my own.”
“Well, you don’t have to be. Not anymore. You’ve got all three of us now,” Ragnar says.
Drusilla swallows the lump in her throat. From being a virgin to taking three massive Xhakans… easier said than done. Then again, she’s never been the type to shy away from a challenge.
“Tell me about you three,” she says. “I’m curious to get to know all of you.”
“Well, as you know, I am Kolos, and this is Ragnar and Aksel. We are all brothers, though not by blood.”
“You’re not?”
“No. As you’ve so keenly noticed, we are all sons of House Velo. However, technically, I am the only full-blooded son.”
“Aksel and I are wards,” Ragnar says. “We were taken as babies, gifted to House Velo to secure an alliance between our respective families.”
“That’s barbaric,” Drusilla says. She thought the Djalls were evil and the Xhakans paragons, but this doesn’t seem at all progressive. “You were stolen?”
“Gifted,” Aksel says with a shrug. “Our families willingly gave us away.”
“We don’t know any better,” Ragnar says. “And to be honest, I couldn’t imagine a life anywhere else. Not because I’m obsessed with bringing glory to House Velo or whatever, but because I got to grow up with these two troublemakers.”
“Look who you’re calling a troublemaker,” Aksel says. “You’re the one who started a fire in the Akademi’s dormitories.”
“Yeah, because you snuck some Elysian berries in my meal when you know how that upsets my stomach!” Ragnar growls. Aksel laughs, and Ragnar balls his fists and glares.
“I’ll get you one of these days, brother, just you wait.”
“Don’t mind them,” Kolos says. “That’s how they love each other.”
“You can all breathe fire?” Dru asks with a sense of wonder in her voice. She’s heard the stories about the Xhakans, how they can shift and change shapes, how they’re actually dragons underneath that gorgeous skin of theirs, but in the back of her mind she always thought those stories were make-believe.
When you’re living in the slums of Holanis, the only way to pass the time or to feel happy is to make up stories. People who can change into actual dragons at will? That’s a pretty good bed time story, but it doesn’t sound like something that can be actually true.
“Only he can,” Kolos explains. “Aksel and I are different types of Xhakans.”
With her brow
raised, Dru looks back at Kolos.
“What do you breathe then?”
“Ice,” he says.
“And my breath is laced with electricity.” Aksel says.
“So no kissing then,” Dru says. “Right?”
The three Xhakans all laugh.
“We can only breathe like that when we are in dragon form. You have nothing to fear when we are in our Xhakan-form, like this.”
“So the stories really are true,” she says. “You can shift!”
“Of course we can,” Ragnar says. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, I certainly can’t,” Dru laughs. “It’s not something that you see every day. I heard the stories, but I didn’t think they were actually true.”
“I’ll show you when we reach Valkronis,” Ragnar says.
At the mention of her destination, Dru’s heart skips a beat. Every inch they get closer to Valkronis is closer to revenge.
“Is that where we are headed?”
“Of course,” Ragnar answers. “It is our home.”
“We will introduce you to our father, Vladimir Velo, and if he gives his permission, there will be a mating ceremony, and you will be our princess.”
Permission. So it isn’t all set in stone quite yet. Her heart beats a little faster — if the Xhakan King realizes she’s half-Djall, he surely won’t give permission. Another reason to keep her secret from the trio of drop-dead gorgeous Xhakans.
“What’s your father like?”
The three men instantly exchange a meaningful glance.
“He’s a difficult man,” Kolos says. “And that’s putting it mildly.”
“Well, he carries a lot of burdens,” Aksel says. “He has to run his House, hold the peace.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not a royal pain in the ass,” Ragnar says.
Aksel thinks it over and nods. “I’ll grant you that one.”
“I see your opinions are, uhm, mixed,” Drusilla says.
“Aksel always tries to see the best in people,” Ragnar says as he nods at his brothers. “Me? I don’t have time for that. I call it like I see ‘em. And Kolos, well, he’s just a tiny bit more patient than I am.”
