by Mina Carter
Huh. Interesting, and different from the human custom of giving the bride away.
“And the honor guard?” She pointed out the three warriors.
“To ensure no one interferes with your decision,” he replied, then his lips quirked. “Not even your mate.”
That was a new one. Cat blinked. So they’d gone from slaves and having no choice, to a situation where she seemed to have all the power. All because of a few marks on Tarrick’s wrist.
“And if I decided not to go through with it?”
“Then our duty as your guard is to take you away from the hall, by force if necessary.” Karryl’s smile grew broader, his relish at the idea of a fight clear, but it quickly disappeared. “Although I don’t want to fight Tarrick and Laarn, so please don’t do that.”
Cat shifted her grip on the bouquet in her hands and shook her head.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of backing out now. A gorgeous guy who actually wants to get married and have kids… do you have any idea how rare that is on Earth? Most men run a mile at the mere thought of commitment.”
All three warriors glowered, their opinion of Earth men obviously not high.
“Earth men are idiots,” Talat rumbled, which earned him a chuckle from Kenna, who patted his arm.
“That they are, handsome. But don’t worry, there are plenty of human women who will take one look at you and beg you to give them babies.”
A distant sound, like a clarion call, stopped the conversation and Karryl urged them all toward the door. “Time to go. We do not want to be late, not with the Emperor doing this blessing.”
“Good luck, Cat!” Jess called, ushered into line by Gaarn as they formed up behind Cat.
“Yeah, break a leg!” Kenna offered with a broad grin.
Jane rolled her eyes. “She’s getting married, you idiot, not acting in a play!”
The doors opened and Cat stepped out. A sapphire carpet snaked in front of her so she followed it, her steps in the delicate sandals soundless on the plush surface. Guards resplendent in palace uniform lined the route to the throne room where the ceremony was to be held. They looked ahead, expressions and stances like stone, but she caught a few peeking sideways as they passed. Every now and then, one of the doors along the corridors cracked open and she spotted long-faced oonat servants peering through. Several gasped in delight when they saw her and she smiled, feeling like a real bride.
And she was.
The dress might have been sapphire rather than white or cream, but it fit her like a silken glove, the skirts swishing around her ankles before flowing into a train behind her. Her hair was gathered on top of her head in an elaborate updo, complete with a delicate tiara she’d been told came from Tarrick’s family vault and she carried a bouquet in her hands. The tiny flowers looked like a cross between orchids and cherry blossoms—her two favorites. They were called Herris blossom and were apparently the symbol of the Imperial family. Only royal brides were allowed to carry them.
Huh. Her. A royal bride. Just three weeks ago she’d been convinced that the dire state of her love life meant she was destined to end up a crazy cat lady (substituting real cats with fluffy toy ones, because real cats on a station? Recipe for disaster.). Instead though, she’d hooked herself a hot, alien groom. But Karryl’s words about this being her decision struck deep. Was she ready for this? Did they need to get married formally? Couldn’t they just consider the marks on his wrist an engagement ring and date for a while?
Her heart twisted, rejecting all those ideas, and in one perfect moment of clarity, she realized why.
He’d kidnapped her, wanted her so much, he twisted the truth to get her, then saved her from one of his biggest enemies.
He’d killed that enemy for daring to lay a hand on her…
A wash of emotion filled her chest, the warm feeling filtering out to fill the rest of her body.
She loved him.
She was head over heels, hopelessly and totally in love with her alien lord.
Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and she blinked rapidly to clear them. Alien makeup was probably waterproof, but she didn’t want to take the risk and look anything other than perfect when Tarrick saw her in her finery for the first time.
Nerves assaulted her as the carpet led to a large set of double doors. The throne room. Tarrick waited for her on the other side.
Before they reached the doors, two guards either side moved forward to open them.
Shit. This was really happening. Cat trembled, forcing to hold tightly to her flowers in case she dropped them, she shook so much. She would walk through those doors and the Emperor would bless her union with Tarrick. From what she’d been told, the marks on his wrist meant they were already married, but apparently a blessing from his Imperialness himself conferred more status on their union. Made it special.
Personally, she thought their relationship was already pretty damn special. Tarrick’s mating marks were the first since the last fertile Lathar female died decades ago. Ergo, special. No matter what anyone else thought.
The doors opened and a wash of noise hit her. What sounded like hundreds of people chattering, suddenly stopped to look toward the doors. Expectation filled the air, so thick she found it difficult to breathe.
They were all waiting to see her. Their first glimpse of a human woman.
“The Lady Cat Moore, of planet Earth,” a loud voice announced and she walked through the door, her head held high.
Murmurs and gasps rolled through the masses either side of the aisle. Her heart tried to climb into her throat at being the center of so much attention. She focused on Tarrick’s broad shoulders by the throne and started to walk. She could do this. Totally do this. Hopefully without tripping on her own skirts or otherwise making a damn fool of herself.
Her groom didn’t turn, a Lathar tradition she’d been warned about, but Laarn did. His eyes widened and he leaned in to whisper something in his brother’s ear.
Finally, she reached Tarrick’s side and he turned his head. Emotion and reverence washed over his hard features.
“You look beautiful, Moore Cat,” he whispered, reaching for her hand, his words unheard by anyone else as at that moment Daaynal stood.
Chapter Five
“Warriors, welcome!” His voice carried the length of the hall. “Today we gather to celebrate a momentous event and one I didn’t think we would ever see again. A true bonding.”
Shock resounded through the hall in a wave of utter silence. A bonding hadn’t occurred for decades. It required more than genetic compatibility, otherwise half the men in the room would have bonded to their Oonat broodmares.
Tarrick shuddered at the thought. To be bonded to a creature of such limited intelligence for the rest of his life…it didn’t bear thinking about.
“Impossible!”
“How can that be?”
“She is no Lathar!”
“No marks, no bond!”
“This is an outrage!!”
Within seconds the assembled warriors had gotten over their shock and the protests came thick and fast. Tarrick closed his eyes. He recognized the loudest voice among them. Maal J’nuut was a purist, one who regularly petitioned the Emperor about the preservation of Lathar genetics. He and his clan of fanatics believed breeding with other races should be banned and the Lathar should only reproduce through cloning. As they did. It was widely known that the J’nuut eschewed the use of the Oonat, to avoid diluting their “pure” bloodline. The rumors even said Maal refused to allow his warriors Oonat women for companionship and sexual relief.
Daaynal lifted his hand and all noise in the hall ceased. “As many of you are now aware, the K’Vass recently ventured into a backwater system and discovered a previously unknown to us species. One with a pleasing appearance and many females. As soon as contact was made, the healer with the K’Vass suspected that humanity—”
“Ha! Humanity? What kind of name is that?”
Daaynal, int
errupted, glared at the commenter with an expression that would have frozen the fire-moons of Dranratt.
“As I was saying. Lord Healer Laarn K’Vass suspected humanity was genetically compatible with us.”
Daaynal cast a glance down at Cat and smiled. “I am glad to say his suspicions are correct and Lord Tarrick bears evidence of this.”
Stepping down from the dais, his uncle grasped Tarrick’s arm and lifted it. His sleeve fell back, baring the marks on his skin. Murmurs of shock rippled through the crowds.
“A true bonding has occurred. Furthermore,” Daaynal’s voice turned to ice, “the entire human species is now under my protection. No clan is to invade their space, or raid any of their planets or installations. Punishment for such a transgression will be death. No challenge. No appeal, just execution. Do I make myself clear?”
There was no reply to the Emperor’s announcement, not that Tarrick expected there to be. No one argued with such a direct proclamation, not from a man like Daaynal. Ever. He breathed a sigh of relief. With a few short sentences, Daaynal had secured the safety of the human race until proper alliances could be put into place.
“Right. Now to the matter in hand.”
Daaynal stood before Cat and Tarrick and held out his hands. “Your hands please.”
Without hesitation, Tarrick reached out, pleased to see Cat did the same. Her beauty always stunned him, but seeing her in the traditional robes of a Latharian bride took his breath away.
“Blood calls to blood and soul to soul,” Daaynal intoned, his deep voice low and charismatic. “Soul calls to skin, woman to man, binding the halves of a whole together for all eternity. Lady Cat, do you take this warrior who bears your marks on his skin to bond-mate? To support and honor him for the rest of his life?”
She nodded, the light twinkling off the jewels in her hair. “I do.”
Daaynal looked at Tarrick, his expression grave. “Lord Tarrick, do you take this woman who has called marks in your skin to bond-mate? To protect her and honor her for the rest of your life?”
“I do.”
There was no other answer, he realized, standing there as Daaynal transferred their hands to one of his, binding them with a sapphire sash. Bonding them in the eyes of the ancestors.
“Then…as Emperor of the Lathar, I bless your bonding. May it bring much solace and be fruitful.”
Tarrick leaned in to brush his lips over Cat’s. Screw the warriors who watched, he had to touch her. She moved closer, her tiny body nestled against his and lifted her lips to his.
Before he’d registered the taste of her though, shots rang out in the hall. Energy blasts sizzled through the air, closely followed by grunts of pain and bellows of anger as warriors drew weaponry and fired back.
Tarrick whirled, shoving Cat behind him, out of danger. Fear for her pumped through his veins and in that moment he realized he would do anything, even sacrifice his own life, for her. She was his bond-mate, her life was his to protect…but it was more than that.
He loved her.
From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d loved her. He hadn’t realized it at the time, telling himself all sorts of lies to cover what his heart had always known. Had known from the first moment he’d heard her voice. She was the other half of his soul.
“What the hells is going on?” Daaynal demanded, his champion already at his side. Both warriors had weapons drawn, a pistol in one hand and a blade in the other.
“We will not stand for this insult!” a warrior screamed across the hall, voice raised over the sound of energy bolts. The J’nuut were gathered in a knot at the side of the room, firing wildly around them with their leader, Maal, yelling purist rants from atop a table. His face was purple, twisted with hatred as he glared across the throne room.
“He wishes to dilute our blood!” Maal screamed, pointing at Daaynal. “To have us consort with sub-Lathar creatures and create…abominations! Destroy what we are! He is not fit to be emperor! Kill him! Kill them all!”
“Well, he’s a sandwich short of a picnic,” Cat commented, peering around Tarrick’s shoulder even as he tried to push her to safety with the other women. However, trying to keep the human women behind the relative safety of the throne was like trying to herd viisnaas. They’d formed themselves into a tight group, eyes bright and focused as the battle raged around them. Both Jane and Kenna somehow managed to acquire pistols, and were using the throne for cover as they fired into the J’Nuut. Each time they did, warriors fell.
“Damn good shots,” Xaandril grunted, a rare show of approval from a warrior who hated pretty much everything.
“Down, stay safe, little Cat,” Tarrick ordered, shoving Cat behind the throne. When she tried to follow him, he pulled her up for a brief, hard kiss. “Please, let me protect you.”
*
“Yeah, he’s a keeper,” Jess commented as the two women crouched behind the throne as the battle raged in the hall. Concern threaded through Cat’s veins as she peeked out from cover. Damn Lathar and their warlike nature, not even a wedding was sacrosanct.
She picked out Tarrick and his brother, just steps from the dais, fighting off what looked like a horde of the enemy all by themselves. They moved in perfect tandem, ducking and weaving around each other. Cat gasped as Tarrick turned his back on an opponent even as the warrior lifted a blade to drive it through his chest. Without missing a beat, Laarn twisted and blocked the blow, his return swing taking the other warrior’s head off at the neck. The corpse had barely hit the floor before both brothers turned and fired, dropping two more warriors about to charge them.
But it wasn’t all going their way. The Emperor and his men fought on the dais, but were being picked off by snipers from the other side of the room. A warrior to their left was hit, staggering backward against the wall, then slowly slid down. His eyes were wide and lifeless before he reached the floor.
Cat scuttled over and grabbed his weaponry, ducking her head as energy bolts slammed into the wall behind her. She threw the blade to Jess and checked the charge on the pistol. Nearly full. Good. They could at least defend themselves.
“They’ve bottlenecked reinforcements,” Xaandril yelled across at Daaynal, the two big men protecting the area at the front of the throne. “And looks like the R’Zaa have allied with the purists.”
“Excellent!” Daaynal grinned as he swung the massive blade he held and lopped the arm off a warrior trying to sneak up on him. “Some real opposition then!”
Neither looked worried, in fact, both looked like they were intensely enjoying themselves. Cat shook her head. Bloody Lathar.
“Contact at twelve o’clock,” Jane yelled, as another wave of purists surged through the main doors at the end of the hall. Cat ducked out of cover, picked her target and fired. A purist fell, clutching his throat. She had to admit, as well trained as the Emperor’s men were, the numbers were against them.
The situation looked dire. The end was nigh, and all that.
Then she spotted him. A single warrior, one of the R’Zaa she’d seen earlier, the ones disgraced by the Emperor, crept through the melee in the middle of the room. His attention was on Tarrick, his grip firm on the blade in his hand.
Her heart stalled. Neither Tarrick nor Laarn had seen him. A few more steps and he’d be in range. Yanking off her shoes, she darted out from behind the throne, yelling over her shoulder. “Cover me!”
They must have heard her, because energy bolts peppered the air around her as she darted through the seething mass, dropping any enemy warrior who got near her. She paid them no mind, her focus on the warrior who crept up on Tarrick, blade raised to plunge it into his unsuspecting back.
“Hey, asshole!” she called out and he whirled, eyes narrowing with malice when he spotted her. Cat’s universe narrowed down to the alien pistol in her hand, hidden by her skirts, and her finger on the trigger.
She heard Tarrick’s bellow, but not what he said. She was aware of the battle pausing around them as the R’Zaa bore
down on her with death in his eyes.
“Say hello to your ancestors, human bitch!” he snarled, and charged.
In one smooth move, she lifted the pistol, aimed, and fired. Once, twice, three times. The first bolt hit the center of his chest, the second his throat, while the third created a starburst pattern in the middle of his forehead before the bolt shattered the back of his skull and gave him a red halo.
He staggered two more steps, then dropped like a stone at her feet. She looked down, feeling nothing at the sight of the body. He’d been about to kill her husband, on her wedding day.
Not. Happening.
“How about you say hi for me, asshole.” She looked up and around. The battle had stopped, all the warriors looking at her in horrified fascination.
She smiled. “He wasn’t on the guest list. Anyone else?”
The silence in the hall broke when Tarrick closed the distance between them and grabbed her upper arms, shaking her. “Cat! What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!”
His expression was furious, and his grip hard. She winced, trying to get free.
“In case it escaped your notice, saving your damn fool life!”
Their near shouting match was interrupted as combat bots crashed through the doors and windows, landing neatly to train weaponry on the remaining purists. There was a short fight in the corner which no one took any notice of, all eyes on the two of them in the middle of the room.
“Or would you rather I have let you be killed?” she challenged, knowing she was pushing it, but dammit, a girl had to lay down some laws. What better day to do it than on her wedding day. Besides, she hadn’t promised to obey him, had she?
“Damn annoying humans.” His expression shifted, his lips threatening to quirk into a smile and before she realized what he was about, he bent and threw her over his shoulder.
“Tarrick, you asshole! Put me down this instant!” she demanded, beating his broad back with her fists. Not that she thought it would make any difference.
“Problem with your bond-mate?” Daaynal inquired, his deep voice projecting amusement. Cat twisted in Tarrick’s grip, trying to look at the Emperor.
