TICEES (16 page)

Korba felt his heart leap, his desire to whisk her from the room and savor her nearly overwhelming him. But Dar broke up their mutual adoration as he tugged on her and led her down the length of the table. Rounding the end, he escorted her to the chair next to Korba and then took his place next to her.

Dar looked behind, checking Yanis’ and Lazen’s positions along with the rest of the security contingency. Once he deemed that things were satisfactory, he nodded to Korba, and the hall fell deathly quiet.

But for what seemed to be an eternity, neither Korba nor Chelan noticed the silence, their eyes locked in mutual reverence and devotion. Finally, Korba motioned to one of the attendants, and the man took his shroud. Chelan smiled, observing the fine gold stripe that ran from the neck of his jacket over his shoulders and down his arms to his wrists. The same stripe also extended along his uniform pants from his waist down along his hips to his boots.

Korba, in turn, couldn’t take his eyes from her, the sleeveless gown with its low neckline revealing her enticing cleavage, the silky pink fabric hugging and accentuating every feminine curve he knew so intimately. And then, with all eyes on them, Korba drew one of her hands to his lips and kissed it tenderly. She blushed, her pinking skin jolting his loins unexpectedly, and he cursed having to stay for the dinner.

Korba tore his gaze from her as he panned the crowd. He took a deep breath and coiled his muscles. He was ready to lunge for the lazgun concealed beneath the table at even the slightest sign of provocation. Temporarily satisfied that all was well, he slowly pulled out Chelan’s chair and then exerted gentle pressure on her arm, forcing her to sit before him.

There was an instantaneous roar that surged through the crowd, and the security bristled. Korba held his breath, his eyes turning glacial as he sought out any quick motions. Then he waited for the vociferous din to subside.

Dar’s and Fremma’s reactions had been immediate and deeply personal. But Dar’s fury was barely contained. Korba just hoped that both men kept it together, as Chelan’s safety was paramount at the moment. All of them would have to deal with his decision to Let her later.

Cautiously, Korba sat, squeezing Chelan’s hand, his peripheral vision never leaving Dar. The blonde Warlord sat stiffly, followed by Fremma, and then the hall of shocked and baffled warriors.

Korba had decided to make all formal announcements at the end of the meal, and he signaled for its service. Immediately, the hall erupted once again into a deafening roar as mouths began to flap over the decision of the Imperial Warlord, the Empire’s Overlord, to Let an alien.

Chelan tensed to the noise, and Korba ran his hand over her sleek thigh and squeezed her leg in an attempt to reassure her. He leaned to her. “You’ll be okay, my Lady. Everything is fine.”

Chelan looked up at him and grasped onto his strong arm with both hands. “I love you, my Lord,” she whispered softly.

Korba’s mind immediately blocked out the clamor as he looked longingly into her deep brown eyes, her shy gaze veiled by her long dark lashes. Seeing that her tension had not lessened, he leaned toward her again and whispered into her ear. “We leave shortly, my pretty bride. And we will return to the quiet and the solitude of the Command Center where we can spend the night together, consummating our bond of eternal love.”

Chelan’s eyes filled, and she took several deep breaths. “I think I should like that, my Lord.” she whispered.

Korba smiled and then pointed to the volumes of exotic Iceanean food that had been placed in front of her. But despite the delicacies, neither of them could eat much, and Korba’s eyes returned to the crowds, searching diligently for trouble.

With time, Chelan finally gained the courage to look up at the assembly before her. She noted that most present wore their uniforms, with only a few women donning white gowns like periodic flecks in a sea of ink. Then she smiled inwardly, thinking of her first few days on board the massive ship, and how she had thought that she was still on Earth, held captive by only a few spaced-out religious fanatics. How much further from the truth could she have been?

She scanned the hordes once again, and for the first time she realized what an enigma Dar was with his silver-blonde hair, for the world before her was an ocean of blue-black. She smiled to herself, knowing now why so many women would seek his exotic company. Inadvertently, she found herself looking to him, and he stopped eating momentarily, returning her gaze.

“What is it, my Lady?”

“Oh,” she sighed as she shrugged. “I’m only now fully appreciating why so many women would vie for your company,” and she glanced at his hair and grinned.

But Dar did not return her levity. “And what of you, my alien beauty? When will you vie for my company?”

Chelan sucked in a deep breath. What she had known all along would happen if she was confronted with all three men struck her nearly senseless. She loved Dar deeply, but his request put a strain on her she couldn’t begin to handle. But more than that, his face portrayed his desperate determination to hold on to her, and her fear for Korba suddenly resurfaced. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t be angry with us.”

Dar’s jaw clenched as he struggled to control his turbulent emotions. Then he looked deeply into her guileless eyes. “I am not angry with you. I love you too much for that.”

Chelan paused, trying to deal with her own feelings for him. “I know,” she whispered. Chelan bit her lip, her heart aching for him. “Promise me that you will come with us afterward to talk.”

Dar immediately turned his head away. But Chelan grabbed for him, halting his attempt to temporarily shut her out.

Korba was startled by her sudden motion, and his eyes shot over to her. But Chelan did not notice. “Please, Dar. It’s important to me. It’s important to us,” she implored. She watched as his icy gaze finally returned to hers. “You hurt me when you turn away from me,” she uttered. “Korba meant no malice toward you, and his move was not meant as a challenge to you. Please, come back to the Command Center with us and talk.”

But Dar was beside himself with pain. He looked down at his hand and watched as his body—normally under his superb control—rocked with tremors brought on by wrath tempered by tension. He closed his eyes momentarily, the full and brutal reality of losing Chelan slamming hard into him. But what truly cut him to the bone was the fact that he had helped Korba win her.

Finally he looked back at her, his voice low and unintentionally harsh. “Of course he does not challenge me. I do not have you. But he is well aware that by his act he forces a challenge.”

Chelan sucked in a large gulp of air, insidious panic eating through to her marrow. She didn’t know what to say or do. “You know that’s not true.” Her eyes pricked. “You have me, Dar, you always have.”

Dar’s eyes narrowed. “Do I? Do I really?” He twisted slightly, facing her directly. His eyes burned. “If I have you as you say, as you give yourself so freely to Korba and Fremma, then when can I expect to feel your unbridled love wash over me?”

Chelan felt the air leave her lungs.

Dar’s voice lowered. “Perhaps tonight you will care to back up your words with action. Perhaps tonight you will take the time to show me that what you profess is true. Prove to me that I do not have to challenge. Give me what I desire so deeply on the night of your betrothal.”

His sexual demand swamped her like a deepwater undercurrent, threatening to swallow her whole. Finally, in desperation, she looked to Korba, only then becoming aware of the Overlord’s intense scrutiny.

“Is there trouble?” Korba asked in a deep, ominous rumble as he stared into her anxious eyes.

Chelan was frantic, and she looked back at Dar. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Please, come back to the Command Center, Dar. We need to talk so badly,” and her voice broke with emotion.

Dar exhaled sharply, the fact that she was in the middle of their brutal tug of war shredding further his already bloodied heart. Looking into her tortured eyes, he nodded in benumbed agreement. They were getting to the bottom of this tonight, one way or another.

Chelan took several deep breaths and looked back at Korba. She remained in control, but she knew her composure was held only by a thread. Her eyes searched Korba’s briefly, and then she looked down at her increasingly unappetizing meal.

Korba tried to remain calm, but his muscles bunched, ready for battle. He looked over to Dar; his friend’s eyes flared with indisputable ire. The trouble Korba had expected from the blonde Warlord was upon him already, and Korba wondered if either of them would meet his end soon, possibly sooner than anyone expected.

But Korba did not have time to dwell on the crisis at hand, as both Dar and Fremma leapt to their feet. Korba’s reaction was instantaneous as he reached under the table and grabbed the hidden gun.

Chelan cringed, looking up at Dar and Fremma, and catching a glimpse of Yanis looming protectively over her with his gun pointed out into the crowd. Chelan’s eyes swung forward along the gun sight and she saw Marri standing, the woman’s spiteful glare attempting to impale Korba’s soul.

The hall became deathly quiet as Korba rose slowly. He signaled Dar and Fremma to sit. But he issued no such orders to Yanis and Lazen, both of whom stood over Chelan with sights trained on Marri.

Slowly, the warrior moved from her table and approached Korba, her muscles tense, her jaw set.

Dar glanced at Korba and then at Chelan. He wanted to sweep Chelan behind him, and he seethed at the fact that Marri would even consider approaching the main table. For Chelan’s sake, Dar silently berated himself for not having dispatched Marri in Korba’s quarters on the fateful day of Korba’s return.

Fremma’s reaction was no less venomous as his left hand clutched the handle of his throwing blade, his other hand holding his gun.

Marri ignored her impending death and strode confidently up to the main table, standing directly in front of Korba.

Every muscle in Korba’s body was braced for war. “Speak,” he commanded in a low growl.

Marri nodded to him stiffly. “My Lord,” she acknowledged. And then her eyes fell on Chelan. “My Lady,” she breathed acrimoniously.

But before Chelan could respond, Korba’s harsh voice boomed out, causing Chelan to jump. “Bow!” he commanded.

Marri flinched, but she obeyed, nodding to Chelan and then returning her gaze to the infuriated Warlord.

Dar grabbed Chelan’s trembling hands, knowing the little alien was not going to endure much more of his world’s harsh ways. But Chelan remained stalwart, taking several deep breaths and calming herself as best she could.

“I have come to offer my congratulations to you once again, my Lord, and I am genuinely pleased that you have finally chosen to open your life up once more to female companionship. It is also wonderful that you have proclaimed that you are about to lend credence to the long anticipated hope of the continuation of your line …” She looked at him lecherously. “Let’s hope there is the possibility of more changes to come.”

Korba flinched at her choice of words. She had just implied that he would share his bed with others, but he allowed her to continue.

“I have come to let you know of my decision pertaining to my career.” She paused, and Korba nodded to her to go on. “I wish to remain on RIBUS 7 under your command, Sire, in my present capacity.”

Korba felt uneasy about Marri’s decision, but he granted her wish with a nod.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she stepped in front of Chelan, and Dar tensed. Marri smiled and nodded to her. “And congratulations to you, my Lady. I hope that you bear many fine children for our Lord.” Marri hesitated. She studied the alien momentarily, Chelan’s stunning beauty causing her to fester further. Her mind began to balk at her decision to remain diplomatic to the contaminating interloper. She was forced to draw in a deep breath in an effort to restrain herself from verbalizing her true thoughts on their relationship, and her disbelief as to why an Imperial Warlord had chosen an off-worlder to share not only his bed as a mate, but as the inferior vessel in which to brew his children.

Chelan in turn studied Marri, wishing that she was more adept at reading body language. Though Chelan’s mind told her that Marri was sincere, her gut reaction was that of wariness and distrust.

“I will also be at your disposal, my Lady—” Marri faltered, her emotions beginning to get the best of her good sense. “And should you have any questions pertaining to his Lordship, I’m sure we could have a friendly chat someday. I could probably fill you in on more than a few of his idiosyncrasies”—Marri smiled slyly—“or on a few other intimate details about him that may be of interest to you.”

Korba’s blood boiled. Marri was deliberately baiting Chelan and trying to force a confrontation. He looked down at Chelan, expecting her to shrink from Marri, but she remained outwardly calm.

Chelan was indeed a timorous woman, but there were two areas where no one threatened her and got away with it: Chelan would not back down when it came to her expertise in her field of work, and she would not back down when anyone played her for what she considered hers. She was exceedingly possessive, and the people of Iceanea had nothing on her Earth ways when it came to jealousy and affairs of the heart.

Chelan rose to her feet gracefully, accepting Marri’s challenge to her title and to her mate head-on. Forgetting all her perceived inadequacies, she stood her ground firmly, her motions fluid and elegant, her face alight with a confident smile.

“Thank you very much for your generous wish for Korba and me. I am sure that I will bear many exceptional children for his Lordship.” Chelan hesitated, lightening her voice further. “And we will talk in the future, Marri. I have no reservations against a few friendly female chats, but I sincerely doubt that you will have much to fill me in on when it comes to intimate details pertaining to my mate. I seem to have all of him pretty well taken care of, and frequently, I might add.”

Chelan paused again, her smile broadening, and she spoke very slowly, calculating the timing of her words precisely. “I also have all of Korba’s most intimate desires pretty well pegged, and I have become very adept at the art of attending to his every need … and shall I say … satiating his somewhat … voracious appetite. And he, in turn, has mastered the art of tending to me. But, if there are any questions on your mind about him, or any detail you may be curious about, having never experienced them, I’m sure I could fill you in, providing, of course, that the particulars are not too personal.” Chelan smiled to herself. She could feel Marri’s rage emanating from every pore and see the venom swirling in her eyes.