Alien Mate
Page 20
The escort led him to a ground-level, ringside seat where one man wearing a plum loincloth stood over a near-identical man in light rose sitting on the ground. Twins.
The sitting man rubbed his chest, marked by a star. “You jabbed quite hard; I think you enjoyed that too much.”
The other, who had a similar marking on his arm, laughed. “You could be right.”
Both men trotted over. The escort bowed. “May I present March Fellows; he is an honored guest. The emperor invited him to watch the Sha’A’la drills.” He pointed to the man in plum with the star on his arm, “This is Naimo, Princess Julietta’s future consort.” The aide jutted his chin at the twin. “And Kur, his brother and challenger.”
After the aide left, March asked, “Is it the norm to have one’s brother serve as the challenger?”
“Often, yes.” Naimo nodded. “What is important is that it be someone close to the chosen.”
“Why?”
“Because one’s closest ally knows one’s strengths and weaknesses. It makes the Sha’A’la more challenging, more difficult,” Kur answered.
As genetic doubles, the two men were matched in strength and power. Although they looked alike enough to fool most people, March detected subtle differences: Naimo’s face narrowed a little, and a faint scar nicked the skin under one eye. His twin’s smile was quicker and slightly broader.
“But safer, too,” Kur added. “I will challenge him but ensure he is less likely to be injured. We’re sparring with real weapons. I have his best interests at heart. I am like his”—he made a grasping motion—“best man. Is that what they call the one who stands up for the male in a Terran wedding?”
“That’s right.” March nodded.
“Naimo must fight hard to woo the princess, so she will be proud of him. The battle must be challenging.” Kur grinned. “I intend to make it so. He is my brother. I will not go easy on him.”
It seemed like an elaborate ritual for a put-on, but March supposed the only difference between odd and meaningful was cultural perspective. Few questioned their own customs. “What are the stars for?”
“Targets, the wound sites—for practice. During the actual Sha’A’la, we won’t have them.” Naimo touched his arm. “Kur will nick me here, drawing blood.” He pointed to his brother’s chest. “I will deliver the fatal blow there, vanquishing my challenger.”
“I will fall dead to the cheers of the audience,” Kur said. “So you see why it’s important to practice.”
* * * *
Bodies glistening with sweat, Naimo and Kur circled each other, menacing scowls imprinted on their faces. They certainly made the Sha’A’la look real. This was the fifth full rendition. They had paced it out first, talking through the moves, before putting it all together in a dance of footwork and a clash of metal. In practice, the blades were capped to prevent accidental injury, but in the actual Sha’A’la, safeties would be removed. Even a touch of the blade would draw blood.
Kur went on the offensive, skipping forward in a lunge that drove Naimo into defensive mode. Julietta’s consort parried with his saber. Blades locked with a fierce ring.
“She will be mine,” Kur growled mockingly.
“You will never claim her while I am alive.” Naimo broke away and slashed with his saber.
Kur hooked his opponent’s weapon, thrust it aside then, with a flourish and a mocking grin, nicked the purple star on his brother’s arm. Naimo roared and rebounded with a fury that appeared genuine. Equally ferocious, Kur held him off and then rallied, forcing Naimo into the pre-planned retreat. If March hadn’t seen them rehearse, he would have believed the animosity was real. Like actors on a stage, they conveyed a convincing performance not just with their words and deeds, but with facial expressions and vocal tones.
He imagined the princess would be sitting on the edge of her seat.
Kur trapped Naimo against the wall separating spectators from the arena. Sparks flew as sabers clashed. The safety tip fell off Naimo’s blade. Were the men aware? Naimo feinted a jab toward his opponent’s arm. As practiced, Kur fell for it, and Naimo delivered the killing blow straight to the heart.
Oh fuck… March jumped to his feet.
Kur sank to his knees, clutching at his chest. His face contorted in agony. “You—you—” He pitched face forward.
Naimo raised his saber in victory then bowed to the imaginary crowd.
March vaulted over the low wall.
He knelt beside a motionless Kur and rolled him over. The man’s eyes popped open. “Well? What do you think?” he asked in a level voice. There wasn’t a mark on him.
“I thought—” March eyed the safety cap lying on the ground.
“I saw it fly,” Naimo said.
“I wasn’t worried,” Kur said. “I trust Naimo. The only person with better control is me.”
“Oh, you think you have better control? Who’s the one lying on the ground? Huh?” Naimo taunted him.
“Only because it was planned that way.”
“Planned or not, I can beat you any day of the week,” Naimo taunted.
March and Kur rose to their feet. Though aware of the outcome, March had been convinced the ending was real. Of course, the safety flying off had been unexpected, but still. He gave the twins credit for a stellar performance. “I think the princess will be impressed.”
“That is my purpose—to please her and prove I am worthy to be her consort,” Naimo said.
“You’ve never met her, though.”
“I’ll see her officially for the first time at the pre-bonding ceremony dinner. We still won’t be allowed to speak to one another. I was informed of my mate’s identity so I could prepare for the duties required of me. Other than Emperor Dusan himself, she’s the most well-known person on our planet. Next year, she shall rule, and I shall assist. It is a big responsibility.”
“And a seer matched you?” March asked.
Naimo nodded. “We were paired soon after birth—before our first year.”
Right after birth? Did that mean Jules had had a mate waiting for her when she’d been on Terra? He’d known bondings were arranged, but he’d assumed that occurred when the individuals were ready to make the commitment. “Does everyone get matched when they’re infants?”
“Usually, but not always. Kur, for instance, still waits to hear.”
“One cannot question or rush the wisdom of the seer,” Kur said. “I am sure my future mate will be very special.”
Naimo shoved his brother. “I think you are so ugly the seer cannot find a mate who would accept you.”
“Who are you calling ugly? Have you ever checked in a mirror?” Kur pushed back.
March laughed. They were identical. “Neither of you has concerns about bonding with a stranger?”
“Why would we?” Kur shrugged. “The seer would not choose someone with whom we would not be compatible. Everyone has one true mate. What is the probability we would find her among all the people of our planet? Perhaps our mate lives on the night side of the great mountain. How would we find her?”
“How does the seer?”
“She is a seer.”
“We have heard many bondings on Terra fail,” Naimo said. “From our perspective, it appears people left to their own devices don’t choose wisely. They are swayed by insignificant traits. Too influenced by whim.”
Yeah, Jules had influenced him. More like punched him in the gut from the moment he’d seen her. Those enigmatic eyes, long legs, her rare and beautiful smiles. Reserved at first, once she’d opened up, her curiosity and eagerness had been infectious. No matter how minor, everything about Earth had fascinated her. She couldn’t get enough of Terran culture. Coffee. Chocolate. The color of the sky. People-watching. She’d been fascinated by Terran facial expressions. Lingerie. Her drawers had been filled with the lacy, frilly stuff. Her bras and panties were the only things she’d taken with her when she’d left.
Had Jules been a bad choice? By any objective asses
sment, yes, but he couldn’t regret his relationship, no matter how brief it had been.
Get over her already. Jules was probably bonded to her mate by now. She had known her chosen awaited her. So what had he been? A diversion? One last fling?
Chapter Four
As the valet stroked the curling brush through Julietta’s hair, ringlets formed, shortening her waist-length tresses. The woman gathered up the face-framing strands and drew them back, preparing to clip them into place.
“No, leave it down,” Julietta said.
“But, Princess…your hair will hide your face, and this will be the first glimpse you and your chosen have of each other. Do you not wish him to see you?”
Exactly. She needed a shield so she could pretend she wasn’t one day closer to being bonded. But to have people think she was hiding wouldn’t do. “As you wish. You are right, of course.”
The servant secured her hair. “There! Much better. Tomorrow morning I will come bright and early to prepare your face and help you dress.” Females painted intricate designs over their cheeks and temples for the ceremony. The special tints lasted until the union was consummated then, activated by hormones, they faded, revealing that the couple had soul-bonded.
The valet moved to the wardrobe and removed a lace huber-colored shift, much lighter in weight than the bonding costume since only the hem was adorned. Chiming crystals sewn to the garment’s edge would tinkle with every move. It was supposed to emit a joyful, festive ring, but to Julietta’s ears it sounded more like a dirge.
The events of her life had converged to this moment. Attending the Terran university had presented her best chance of escape, but she hadn’t taken it, and now it was too late. Defection would have brought shame on her family and thrown her planet into political chaos, so conscience had prevented her from putting her desires over the needs of her people. The future empress did not spurn her duty because she’d met a man with eyes as blue as the Terran sky, a man who filled her being with laughter and lightness.
Since the tribes of the planet had been united under one empire a millennium ago, no ruler had ever abdicated. Forty emperors and empresses had held the scepter in their thousand year history; not one had ever refused. Only in case of death did a fallback exist. Her family’s rightness to rule would have been forever questioned if she’d abdicated. They’d be viewed as weak, unfit. She couldn’t do that to her father, her mother, her sister, their descendants. Dying offered the only way out.
She wasn’t prepared to go that far.
She should have been cradling a baby in her arms but had managed to put off bonding with a series of excuses. Excuses and time had run out. Next year, her father would have to pass the scepter, giving her only one year to produce her heir. She and Naimo would have to get busy. With any luck, pregnancy would occur quickly and allow her to avoid intimacies for a while.
The valet waited for Julietta to rise.
Her heart felt as heavy as her feet as she shrugged out of her robe. She pulled on pantaloons of pale rose then allowed the servant to drop the tunic over her head. A quick sweep with the curling brush restored her hair to its perfected state. “Beautiful. I would hope I could be half as poised as you, Princess, when I prepare to meet my chosen. You are an inspiration, an example for us all.”
A bad example. Her throat thickened with the irony.
“Do you require anything else?” the servant asked.
“No, thank you. I wish to be alone in contemplation before the banquet.”
“Very well.” The servant bowed and departed.
Julietta sank into the chair again. I was born for this. I will bond with my chosen mate, produce an heir, and rule. Naimo will be a fine consort. The seer cannot be wrong. She buried her face in her hands.
If only she had someone to talk to, but being first in line for the throne eliminated all confidants. Palace councilors could assist with matters of rule, but no one could help with matters of the heart. Her sister was too young and impressionable to confide in. She considered Penelope Aaron, who would be attending the ceremony, a friend, but her advice, though honest and well-meaning, came from a Terran perspective so it offered limited help.
“Don’t marry a man you don’t love,” Penelope would say. Julietta could almost hear her voice. The Terran woman didn’t understand the grip Xenian customs, traditions, and responsibilities had on its citizens. Penelope’s “marriage” to Brock Mann resulted from a love match. She and Brock had chosen each other. Her Terran friend couldn’t imagine anything else, and, to her, the solution to the dilemma was easy. “Don’t do it,” Penelope would advise.
Julietta couldn’t even identify the source of her turmoil. Did she not want to be bonded because she didn’t want to rule—or did she not want to rule so she wouldn’t have to be bonded to a man she didn’t love? If she were an ordinary citizen, she could choose to remain single, but the future empress didn’t have that option.
Rising from the chair, she moved to the window and peered out. Pale-pink clouds drifted across a lavender heaven. Beautiful. And so very, very Xenian. She rested her head on the frame, closed her eyes, and pictured the Terran sky.
* * * *
Coward! Who will you lean on tomorrow night? Julietta entered the banquet hall on the arm of her sister. She’d asked Marji to accompany her in hopes adolescent chatter would get her through the dinner attended by one hundred bonding ceremony attendants, family, and some special guests. Worry about tomorrow when it comes. She tried to push the impending ceremony out of her mind. Much of her life had been spent in denial of the future.
Marji squealed. “Oh great Xenia, there he is! Your future consort! He is supernova!”
“Where?” Stomach clenching, Julietta swept her gaze along the length of the banquet table in search of a man in a royal huber tunic with a chest sash bearing his tribe’s crest.
“Near the far end…” Marji’s voice faded away.
Xenia stopped its rotation around its star as the past slammed into the present. Her gaze locked onto a pair of eyes as blue as the Terran sky. Her heart stopped beating. It can’t be…how…not…not March…
“His twin is supernova, too… Oh! They’re looking at you… Naimo is smiling. He likes you!”
Terran-blue eyes widened in shock.
Claimed by the Cyborg, a standalone read in the Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance series, is available at all major ebook outlets.
Book Description
March Fellows assumed he had all the time in the galaxy to pursue a relationship with Jules, an alien exchange student from Xenia, until she vanished without a trace. After years of searching, he finds his lost love on the eve of her arranged marriage.
The daughter of the Xenian emperor, Julietta, never meant to fall in love with a Terran man while visiting Earth. Leaving to fulfill her responsibilities on her home planet opened up a hole in her heart that could never be filled. When March, now a cyborg, unexpectedly shows up just before she is to be bonded, she struggles to find the courage to turn him away a second time and follow through with her duty.
Before she can act, the lovers are thrust into a political conspiracy that threatens the Xenian empire and their lives.
Titles by Cara Bristol
Stranded with the Cyborg (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 1)
Mated with the Cyborg (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 2)
Captured by the Cyborg (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 3)
Trapped with the Cyborg (Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 4)
Married to the Cyborg (A Cy-Ops Sci-fi Romance 1 extra)
Destiny’s Chance
Goddess’s Curse
Longing
Long Shot
Educating His Bride
Stolen Moments
Domestic Discipline
Unexpected Consequences (Rod and Cane Society 1)
False Pretenses (Rod and Cane Society 2)
Body Politics (Rod and Cane Society 3)
Disciplinary Measures (Rod and Cane Society 4)
Reaso
nable Doubts (Rod and Cane Society 5)
Irresistible Attractions (Rod and Cane Society 5)
Naughty Words for Nice Writers
Anthologies
Portals
Body Talk
Audiobooks
Stranded with the Cyborg
Matted with the Cyborg
Books in Print
Captured by the Cyborg
Claimed by the Cyborg
Goddess’s Curse
Naughty Words for Nice Writers
Watch for the return of the Breeder sci-fi romance series!
Author Bio
USA Today bestselling author Cara Bristol loves aliens, cyborgs, and humans. She writes character-driven science fiction romance with a touch of humor and a lot of sizzling chemistry between the hero and heroine. She’s a no. 1 best seller in science fiction romance, and her work received “top pick” reviews. Cara lives in Missouri with her own alpha hero, her husband. To keep up with new titles, subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/9aRJj. Check out her website at www.carabristol.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue