The Consort (Tellaran Series) (16 page)

Kyndan closed and locked the door to their suite behind him, his face still burning.

Alari came forward to meet him. “Kyndan?”

In response he held up the small bottle of amber liquid in its tiny, delicate bottle and a goblet crafted of the same fine crystal. 

“By the way, my estimation of my brother-in-law just went way the hell up,” Kyndan said. “He got these for me without so much as a snicker
and
he’s just taken my sister and nephew away for a surprise two-day outing to the southern continent. He said he’d ‘take care of everything.’ I’m hoping that means he’s just transmitted the ‘comm silence’ code for us to the rest of the clanhouse. ”

“They will not disturb us,” she promised softly. “To do so would be sacrilege.”

“Yeah, well, from what I’ve heard this is not something I want to stop in the middle of.”

Alari covered the hand that held the bottle with her own. “We will not be able to stop.”

“Oh.” His breathing sped up and a current of heat jumped down his body to his groin at her words and her nearness. The tingle that ran through his buttocks at her light touch on his hand already had him standing.

“You are blushing,” Alari said, smiling up at him.

“I’m more nervous now than I was my very first time,” he said with an embarrassed laugh.

Gently she took the bottle from him and he followed her to the sitting area of their suite. She opened the flask and he held the goblet with slightly trembling hands as she poured.

“Okay,” he said as she closed the bottle and put it down. “Okay. Now what?”

“Now you will drink some and I will drink and we will do so until it is all gone. Then we will kiss.”

“You’re nervous too,” he said, looking into her beautiful eyes. “Aren’t you?”

She smiled. “Nervous, excited, but certain.” She gave a nod at the goblet he held. “Do you want me to go first?”

He took a swallow. It was strong, sweet, and instantly warming his mouth and throat as he drank.

He licked his lips. “Actually it tastes pretty good.”

She laughed, taking the cup from him. “The nectar of Ren’thar and Lashima? Yes, it would.”

He watched as she drank too, her dark eyes smiling at him over the rim before handing it back.

In the end he was the one who got the final drops. She took the cup from him and put it beside the flask then straightened, waiting.

He took her hands in his for a moment then drew her close and kissed her gently, her unique sweetness and warmth melding with the taste of nectar as he deepened the kiss.

He rested his forehead against hers. “Before any of this starts I want you to know, Alari,” he murmured, “I love you.”

She caught her breath and the sheen of happy tears in her dark eyes. “I love you too, Kyndan.”

He kissed her again and she drew him toward the bed. Her hands were already undoing the fastenings of his tunic and pushing it off his shoulders. 

He was nervous, and excited, and aroused but . . .

“Uh, Alari?” He cleared his throat. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Now who is impatient?” she teased. “Hurry, though, I do not think you wish to have your boots on for this.”

He blinked and as he removed his boots she toed off her slippers. 

“Hey,” he protested as she started on her dress. “I wanted to do that.”

Though why I’m complaining . . .

She’d already stepped out of the gown. Her underthings quickly followed, and his mouth went dry at the sight of her smooth, light golden skin, slender waist, and full pink-tipped breasts.

She glanced down. “Trousers,” she prompted.

He had them off and his undershorts in an instant, already at full stand. A rush of heat hit him and a thin layer of sweat broke out all over his body followed by a tightening heavy throb through his already taut staff.

“Uh, wait, I think—
Gods
!” he got out as her cool fingers closed around his shaft. Every nerve in his body flashed with a fiery burst of pleasure just from that one feathery touch. She stroked him twice more and suddenly Kyndan was shuddering with the strongest climax of his life.

Gasping, his legs shaking, he had to grab the bedpost to stay upright. It took a moment for his head to clear even the tiniest bit.

“Sorry,” he panted, utterly dismayed to have had it over so quickly. “I’m sorry—”

She silenced his mortified protests with a kiss and just the brush of her breasts against made his chest made him rock hard again.

The heat rose up to scorch him this time. Groaning and clumsy with need he pushed her back onto the bed to find her slick and blissfully open and buried himself inside her in one stroke. He arched over her thrusting fast and deep, spurred on by her cries as she quickly found her pleasure.              

He couldn’t help crying out, this climax was even more intense than the last.

Alari was already moving against him, roused again, and her slick wetness brought him searingly back to standing.

“Love—you,” he managed with his last truly conscious thought then she drew him into a universe of unending arousal and pleasure and nothing mattered but her . . .

Kyndan stirred and feeling Alari nestled beside him, smiled before he even opened his eyes. Her glossy dark hair was spread across the pillow, its softness over his shoulder, her full pink mouth parted in sleep.

In the faint light of the Az-kye morning sun, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He brushed a tendril away from the soft curve of her cheek, content just to look at her. Their binding had ended sometime last night, leaving him more blissfully exhausted then he’d ever been. He couldn’t say when he’d fallen asleep. What they’d shared came back to him in flashes, and his groin tightened just to think of it.

But it was more than sex. He grinned. Hell, it was more than amazing, not-to-be-believed mind-
blowing
sex.

She was so much a part of him now he could almost feel her heart beating, feel the peacefulness of her mind as she slept. He’d felt protective of her before but it was nothing compared to now. He understood—he
respected
—the willingness of warriors to fight to the last breath for their mates, why they would never retreat or surrender.

He wouldn’t either.

An understanding of that bond completely reframed the whole Az-kye societal structure for him. Where before it was a ridiculous bunch of barbaric sword swingers and baffling archaic rituals now showed itself the socially functional expression of the bonding between mates. Just imagining a threat against Alari brought raging protectiveness. He understood now why the Az-kye sought to channel and contain it to the limits of the Circle. The elaborate rituals intended to prevent offense so those challenges wouldn’t occur in the first place suddenly weren’t archaic or stupid. 

Somehow through fate or Lashima’s blessing or plain dumb luck he’d stumbled into the life of this astonishing, precious creature. This gifted, beautiful princess who radiated joy just to hold his hand and look at a painting.

And she was
his
.  His to care for, to protect, and he was so grateful that tears stung his eyes.

Her inky lashes fluttered like the wings of gossamerflies and then Alari looked at him with her dark, velvety eyes.

And she smiled back.

Breathing in the sweet fragrance of the blooming tashi tree she sat beneath in the Az’anti garden, Alari accepted the teacup from Kinara’s maid. “I have requested an audience with her Imperial Majesty tomorrow to ask her blessing to leave Az-kye space.”

“What will you do if she says no?” Kinara asked with a quick glance at Kyndan where he sat at Alari’s side.

“I hope she will not,” Alari said honestly. “But I will go no matter what her answer.”

“Wow.” Kinara waved the jaha fan to cool herself. “Then I hope she gives her blessing.”

“I hope she takes it well,” Kyndan said. “With the
Dauntless
due to break orbit in less than two days it doesn’t leave a lot of time for her to come to terms with Alari leaving.”

“If she does not consent then it is not likely I will be permitted to speak to Saria before I go. She will return to the Imperial homeworld tomorrow. I was hoping,” Alari continued tentatively, “that I might entrust a letter to the Az’anti for her.”

What she asked placed them at great risk of the empress’ displeasure. Though tradition counted Kinara an Az-kye, it was common knowledge that Kyndan was her brother. Alari’s mating to him, and their choosing to reside here instead of the palace, already put the Az’anti clan in an awkward position.

“Of course,” Kinara said even as Aidar inclined his head.

Her throat tightened at how neither even hesitated. “Thank you.”

“So, Nima, huh?” Kinara asked, smiling. “You know, Apovia is renowned for its artists. You should think about going to school there.”

“You ruined my surprise,” Kyndan grumbled good-naturedly then looked at Alari. “I have accommodations reserved for us in Galt-Apovia and made an appointment for you to tour the Sulun Institute. I thought you might want to consider that school too.”

“Oh,” Alari murmured then smiled widely at him. “Oh, that would be wonderful!”

“Don’t decide till you’ve seen Nima,” Kinara warned, holding up a palm.

“Have you been there, my mate?” Aidar asked.

“Father took us a couple times,” Kinara said. “It’s a paradise—white sand, waterfalls, rainforests.” She nodded at Alari’s yellow gown. “What’s very casual on Az-kye is formal wear on Nima. For day, most Niman women wear less than what you’d consider a skimpy nightgown and a pair of sandals that they kick off half the time.”

“They go barefooted?” Alari asked. Only the very poorest of the Az-kye and the slaves did that. “They
wish
to?”

“You’ve never done that?” Kyndan asked. “Kicked off your shoes and run barefoot through the grass?”

Alari raised her eyebrows. “Have you?”

Kyndan gave her a sly smile and knelt at her feet. She gave a startled yelp of amusement when he caught her by the ankle and pulled the slipper from her foot.

He put her foot down on the soft grass and had the next one off in an instant. He stood, handing her cup over to the wide-eyed maid, Sella, and caught Alari’s hands to pull her to her feet.

“Come on,” he urged with a grin and gently tugged, pulling her along to walk on the lawn.

“I did not think it to be so soft,” Alari said surprised, delighting in the feel of the grass between her toes, the sunlight on her feet. “And warm.”             

Suddenly he caught her hand, his other hand at her waist, and spun her around, then stepped and swayed, leading her in the Tellaran style of dancing.

Laughing, caught by Kyndan’s smile and sky eyes, the grass beneath her feet and the sun on her face as they danced, Alari did not notice anything wrong at all until the Lady of the Az’anti stood.

Kyndan stopped short. Alari followed his tense gaze and her mouth parted. The Imperial messenger crossed the garden, his eyes on her.

Kyndan let her go as the man stopped before her, his black armor and helmet gleamed darkly in the sunlight.

“Imperial Daughter Alari!”

Alari’s stomach clenched. Her mother’s majordomo, Jelara, should have sent a note to instruct her when to present herself tomorrow, not an Imperial messenger.

“I am Imperial Daughter Alari.”

“The empress commands your presence.”

“I do accept this summons and will come with all honor,” Alari replied, the ritual words sounding strangled. “When am I to attend upon Her Imperial Majesty?”

“A litter awaits you,” the messenger said.

Alari blinked. “You mean
now
?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Alari’s hand went to the skirt of her pale yellow gown. “I will change—”

“Our empress commands your presence immediately, Your Highness,” the messenger said sharply.

Alari quickly put her feet into her slippers and, behind her, she heard Kyndan address Kinara.

“Get ahold of Nisara,” he whispered tightly. “Tell her to get back to the
Dauntless
and be ready to contact the Tellaran Council.”

His government was light years away, it was madness to set his one ship against the might of the Empire’s forces, her mother might even command he not live long enough to leave the planet’s surface—

“Her Imperial Majesty has not summoned you, Kyndan,” Alari said quickly, meeting his gaze. “Perhaps it is best you remain here and await my return.”

Kyndan’s jaw hardened. “Oh, no fucking way. I’m coming with you, Alari.”

Alari looked at the messenger. “My mate . . .?”

The messenger sent a spare glance his way and gave a nod. “We must leave, Your Highness.”

Kyndan climbed into the litter beside her. One of his hands held hers and the other came to rest on the blaster he wore at his hip.