She buttoned the ten buttons, one at a time, and then wrapped the left side to the right and buttoned the ten buttons on the other side so that she was wearing a sleeveless, long robe that had extensive markings from the house of Akenfar. Her neck was almost completely encased by the collar, and the triangular neckline gave just a hint of cleavage. Avvel glared at herself in the mirror and fought the urge to pull her hair into a tight knot. It was her wedding day after all and loose hair was traditional.
The sharp knock at her door made her jump, but she stuck her tongue out at the mirror in an act of defiance before she went to the door. Two Asku in the hall bowed low and turned silently to escort her to the temple.
She watched as they passed one temple room after another. The Whichan had a dozen deities, and the temples within a large home were standard. Wester was standing next to one of the arched doorways with a huge bouquet in his hands.
Avvel walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s all right, Wester. I understand or I will. It will take some time.”
He nodded and handed her the flowers before he draped a length of gauze over her head and down her back. “I know, but know that I am still here if you ever need anything. Whichan isn’t going anywhere.”
She smiled. “I know but I am.”
Avvel took the arm he offered her and faced the doors. The two Asku pushed the door open and Avvel had to stifle a laugh. It was appropriate but still funny. They were in the temple to the god of war.
Wester murmured, “It was the only temple that was ready for a wedding.”
She grinned and walked down the flower-strewn aisle with two Asku ahead of her and Wester at her side. The pews were filled with guards, Asku and all off-duty servants in the manor. It was quite the turnout.
Wester caught her surprised smile, and he whispered, “They all insisted on being here.”
The priest was standing in front of the altar and he had a delighted grin on his face. Avvel was guessing that he didn’t get to officiate at weddings much.
Avvel looked around the room and finally had to lock gazes with Druin. He had an exceptional calm on his face, and as she let her gaze drift over his facial and neck tattoos, she felt that same calm cross into her.
The priest spoke, “Thank you all for joining us here today. It is not often that I am called upon to do a wedding, but today is that day.
“When our people colonized Whichan, we were barbaric and wild. Our people scattered into hundreds of clans and ravaged the landscape. War was inevitable when territory lines were at stake, and each side prayed to the gods of war to join their cause.
“Their prayers were answered as the gods of war came from the sky to fight in the wars of Whichan. Their intervention saved thousands of lives, and as the Whichans abided by the outcome of their battles, peace began to fall around the world. Clans became countries, and cities sprang up. When the gods felt that we were ready, they left Whichan and promised to return should we need them again.
“This promise is a sacred trust that we believe with all our hearts, and today, we are here to witness another promise between Avvel and Druin Velu. They are each from different worlds but are swearing to protect and honour each other.”
Avvel gave the priest a startled look, and he winked at her.
“Lord Wester Akenfar--acting as Avvel’s family--do you give your permission for her to join in union with Druin Velu?” The priest focussed on Wester.
“I do.”
The priest nodded, and Wester backed away a few steps. “Druin Velu, do you have your family’s backing to join in union with Avvel?”
He nodded. “I do.”
The priest turned to her and met her gaze. “Avvel, do you enter this union freely and of your own will?”
Avvel took a deep breath, but when she spoke, she was shocked to hear her own voice say, “I do.”
The priest exhaled in relief. “Extend your palms. You will be bound by the ties of sacrifice and honour.”
Druin placed his hands out, palms up, and the priest skimmed a knife across his hands.
Avvel handed her bouquet to Wester and did the same. The priest drew a thin line of blood on her skin, the slight sting faded quickly.
The priest put her hands, palms down, on top of Druin’s and tied their hands together with black and bronze ribbon. The priest held his hands to the sky. “As they came to show us the ways of war, may the gods bless you and guide you on your way through your new lives together. Joining two households is always a battle, but with calculated surrender and skillful attacks, you will find a balance that works to move you forward to progress and harmony.”
He looked from one of them to another. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Druin pulled her hands, so she stepped forward, and as she looked up, he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers.
Avvel felt something in her heat as the kiss continued. She shivered and leaned up into the pressure of his mouth as he parted her lips with his and flicked into her mouth with his tongue.
Her belly trembled, and she was content to stand and continue their kiss until the applause broke her hypnotic state.
Avvel opened her eyes and backed away, her lips pressed together as she retreated, his taste still sending her pulse racing.
The Asku were applauding, and the Whichans had joined in.
The priest grinned and sliced the ribbons from them, allowing them to retrieve their hands.
Avvel looked at the thin lines on her palms and smiled at the healing that had already taken place.
Druin bowed low and lifted her palm to his lips. “Thank you, Lady Velu.”
She blinked. “I have never had a last name before.”
The Asku warriors lined up in front of them and bowed low.
The Whichan guards lined up, and one by one, went to one knee in front of her, “Lady Avvel,” was repeated over and over again.
Druin kept his fingers woven with hers while her trainees gave her tribute.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she breathed deep to keep them from knowing how much it meant to her.
Wester came up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Lady Avvel Velu. My estate at Tormin is at your disposal. Your bags are on a glider out front.”
She looked up at him with astonishment. “Thank you, Wester. I won’t forget this.”
He caressed her cheek before he nodded to Druin. “I know you won’t, Avvel. Be well and stay safe.”
Chapter Six
It was peculiar that she was piloting her new husband, two Asku—one of whom had a peculiar kit—and two guards from the Akenfar household to the place where she had been found wandering alone as a child. Her hands shook as she thought about her return to the place she was found. The Akenfar family had never vacationed nearby, but the moment that Wester had taken power, he had bought land and built a home there. Until this day, no one had ever stayed at Tormin.
“You have piloting skills?” Druin was watching the terrain below blurring past. It was dark, but the moons and starlight provided enough light for navigation.
“I can fly anything in under five minutes. It is a skill that I seem to have been born with.”
He chuckled. “One of many.”
She flicked a glance at him. “How much of you is training, and how much is genetics?”
Druin shrugged. “I would say twenty-five percent is training. My family is skilled as survivors.”
Avvel asked a question she had been dying to know. “I have never seen or heard of a female Asku, how can your family be survivors if the women are never Asku?”
Druin smiled. “We select our mates for skill and spirit. You have those qualities in abundance. How did you acquire your hand-to-hand combat skills?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. My mind is blank until I was being hauled into a private sale and handed off to the Akenfar family as a companion for their son as he entered his teenage years.”
“Why?”
She chuckled. Few people bothere
d to ask that question. “Wester was the last son of the family, but the only survivor. His older brothers both died in duels. His parents were distressed at the urges that he was showing, his attraction to other young men. They thought having a girl nearby might show him what he was missing. He took to me as a brother once he realized that his parent’s agenda was not mine. I merely wanted someplace safe and warm to survive in. I became his confidant and friend, and when his family shifted into power, I took on the job of his bodyguard.”
“You weren’t trained?”
“Not that I am aware. I simply knew how to fight the first time it was necessary.”
Avvel throttled the glider to a lower speed as they approached the Tormin estate. A line of servants was standing and waiting for them as they glided in to a smooth landing.
She disengaged the engines and flexed her hands. “Well, everybody out.”
The two Asku lifted the bags tucked along the side and handed them to the servants waiting to take them.
Druin offered her his hand, and she exhaled and placed her fingers against his palm.
“You will get used to me, Avvel. I will get used to you. It is the way things have always been.” He led her out of the glider with great ceremony, as if she was the most precious thing in the world.
Her feet brushed against the thick grass with every step, and the line of servants came to attention as they approached the main entrance.
The housekeeper—as identified by her uniform—stepped forward. “Lady Avvel. Welcome to Tormin. Lord Wester has told us to anticipate your wishes, and he forwarded a list of your preferences. The master bedroom is prepared, and the guards have guest rooms nearby but not next door.”
The implication did not escape Avvel. “Ah. Thank you. Very thoughtful. This is Commander Druin Velu.” She swallowed. “My husband.”
The woman bowed. “I am Simsar. Ring a bell in any room, and I will attend you. A meal has been prepared and will be served in your room if you choose to ring.”
Avvel smiled, “Thank you, Simsar. Please, show us the way.”
She caught Druin’s grin as she said the word us, and she sighed inwardly as they began to walk into the Tormin estate.
The Asku walked between them and Simsar, checking the surrounding area for attackers. The two guards from Wester’s main residence brought up the rear.
The servants flowed around them, bringing the bags up the stairs and walking straight down the hall.
“I guess we are going that way.” Druin’s voice was amused.
Avvel snorted. “I wonder what they would do if we made a break for the kitchens. Do you think they would try to cut us off?”
He chuckled. “I would like to see them try. That is a lovely outfit, by the way. For a formal uniform, it is rather elegant.”
“Wester spent weeks designing it. The seamstresses despised being called in for fittings when they saw that I had a sparring partner waiting. I blew out more seams than I could count, so we had to keep redesigning until I had something that I could fight in.”
“It has similar characteristics to Asku formal wear, though my torso covering will be cut to show the mark of your name.”
She blinked. “The what?”
“Your name will be tattooed here.” He lifted her hand and pressed it to his chest, right over the thudding of his heart. His heartbeat sped up as she stroked his body through his shirt.
Simsar cleared her throat. “These are the master quarters. A maid will come tomorrow after you have rung for breakfast, and she will unpack your clothing for your stay.”
“I can unpack my own clothing.” Avvel was going to start doing it right then, but Druin held her back.
“Thank you, Simsar. That will be all for the night.”
The housekeeper curtseyed and left the room, the stream of servants followed and the Asku nodded after they completed the inspection.
Druin wished them good night, and they left without another word.
Avvel was alone with her husband.
“Druin, I am not precisely sure what happens next. I have seen Wester having sex far more times than I am comfortable recalling but never with a woman.”
He frowned. “Didn’t you receive rudimentary explanation of reproduction?”
She scowled up at him. “Of course. I just haven’t engaged in any of those events, so I have no idea how they will feel or how I will react.”
He reached out and put his hands on her biceps. “You will react as your body wills it, and I will adapt to your needs as we progress. Is that clear enough?”
Avvel closed her eyes as the heat from his hands warmed her skin. “It’s clear. I just despise the unknown. I always have.”
He glided one hand into her hair, and he pressed a kiss to her neck and the frantic pulse pounding there.
She opened her eyes and stared blindly out toward the balcony and the moons watching their every move. With slow, cautious movements, she caressed his jaw with her hands and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Slow then, until I ask for more.”
She could feel his lips curve against her neck. “Slow, until you ask for more.”
He caressed her back through the heavy fabric of her uniform, relaxing her and enticing her closer to his body.
The sensation of being stroked and petted was completely new. She was on guard against him triggering a defense moment, but he seemed to have nothing but time in his slow and detailed seduction.
Druin moved up her neck and took her lips in another kiss. This time, she wasn’t stunned by the contact, so she tightened her grip on his hair and pulled him close while her tongue fenced with his in a slow, slick battle.
It was a very nice start.
Chapter Seven
Avvel went up on her toes, holding onto Druin with all her might as her body started to wake under the seemingly innocuous kiss.
She shivered at the tug low in her belly that corresponded with each slide of his tongue. This was not something described in the medical vids she had been exposed to as a child, but she liked it.
Druin slowly reduced the intensity of the kiss before backing away. He took her hand and pulled her further into the master suite.
A table was set with two glasses and a bottle of wine. A large bed in keeping with Wester’s tastes was positioned so that a person lying in the sheets would experience the glory of the full sunrise. She smiled slightly. Wester was a huge fan of morning sex. He said it set him up to deal with the rest of the day.
A glass-covered tray with crackers, fruit and cheese was sitting on another small table.
Druin sighed. “I am afraid that I have no idea how to get you out of that uniform. It is very precisely designed.”
She chuckled. “That it is. Would you like me to disrobe?”
He took a seat at the edge of the bed, his body making the large expanse seem downright cozy. “Please.”
She slipped the gauzy veil off her hair and folded it carefully, setting it next to the wine.
It would be cowardly not to face him, so she met his gaze and began the torturous unbuttoning of her dress uniform. Inch by inch, the fabric fold opened, and when she finally undid the right-side buttons, he groaned as the fabric folded back to reveal…nothing but more fabric.
The giggle that broke from her was genuine. She started the left side from the bottom and slowly worked her way up. The fabric parted slowly, and by the time the final button was undone, she could see a peculiar light burning in Druin’s black eyes.
The fabric swung heavily but concealed her breasts in its folds. Druin pulled her forward, and she stood between his knees as his hands wrapped around her waist. She threaded her fingers in his hair once again and kissed him, her first true participation in the process.
Putting her fingers in his hair kept her hands from covering her skin as he stroked and caressed her lower back and spine in smooth strokes. She nipped at his lower lip with her own, drawing him into a deep kiss that resulted in her being press
ed against him with his arms completely surrounding her.
She felt a tugging at the closure of her trousers, the loose fabric slid to puddle around her calves, held in place by her boots. The opening of her uniform allowed air to caress her, and she shivered as she felt her nipples tightening in response to the dual assault of warmth within and cold air.
She felt the slick moisture in her channel as it prepared to ease Druin’s way. The lips of her sex felt hot and heavy, parting as she shifted closer to Druin’s warmth.
He moved suddenly and stripped her uniform from her, flipping her to the bed before he pulled off her boots and then stripped her completely.
Her earlier confidence disappeared as he parted her thighs and tasted the wet heat she was generating.
The electric feel of his tongue against her elicited a gasp of surprise that settled into a low moan when her body shook uncontrollably. The tremors turned to spasms, and her thighs shivered and jerked where they framed his head. She choked out a cry when his tongue flicked deep into her, and her world fell apart.
He moved up her body and held her while she trembled in reaction. She relaxed and let out a low moan. He kissed her then smiled at her. “That was phase one.”
She licked her lips, the taste of her body strange and a little tangy to her senses. “What is phase two?”
He slid back down between her thighs with a smile and licked at the small bundle of nerves at the top of her sex while he slid two fingers in as far as they could go.
She arched her hips as he shifted his digits within her, sliding and pumping her slowly at first and building in speed until a spot inside her ached and sent electric shocks out as his fingertips passed over it.
She cried out as heat rippled through her in expanding waves, sweat broke out on her skin and she panted as he kept stroking his fingertips over that small inner spot until she was whimpering and trying to shift away.
His tongue on her clit turned from pleasure to abrasion, causing her to squirm away from him. He chuckled and licked his lips as he raised his head. “Phase two.”
She watched him remove his clothing and admired the tattoos that marched down his arms, listing battles and skirmishes he had survived. “You get around, don’t you?”
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