Balfor ignored Lilith, his gaze going immediately to Stacia. Somehow, he’d managed to appear within arms’ reach of her, as if he’d known exactly where she was.
He smiled as if he was happy to see her, and the sight of it caused a flush of heat to rush through her body. “I have waited long enough to see you again. Surely, you’ve finished visiting with your companion by now.” He gestured to Lilith in a dismissive manner that demonstrated he was aware of her, despite having never looked in her direction.
The way Stacia’s body responded to his presence was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She wanted him instantly, yet that didn’t change her wariness around him. Nor did it change how awkward she felt after their intimate encounter. “Your appearance was a surprise. It would have been nice if you’d have knocked on the door.” Like a civilized person. She kept the last part of the sentence to herself.
“I’m not accustomed to knocking.” He stepped closer to Stacia and lifted a hand to stroke her hair. “Now that you’ve accepted my claim, you should be ready to receive me whenever I desire you.”
Lilith gasped, but Stacia couldn’t take her eyes off Balfor to glance at her friend. Standing directly in front of her, he was so tall she had to look up at him, which left her feeling vulnerable. It was not a feeling she’d ever been comfortable with, but when his fingers dropped from her hair to touch the bruised area of her neck where he’d sucked and nipped, heat spread through her, making her forget everything other than how much she’d enjoyed what he’d done to her that morning. It took a moment for her to find her voice as he studied her, seeming to be particularly interested in her hair. He returned to touching it, lifting the strands to catch the light.
“What exactly do you mean, I accepted your claim.” Her ragged voice revealed the struggle she was having with her body’s desire to touch him just as he was touching her.
A small frown creased his brow. “I offered you my protection, and you said yes. You’re mine now.” He gestured to her lovely room. “These inadequate quarters are not fit for the lowest-ranking handmaiden, much less my concubine.”
“Concubine!” The title meant a commitment to the umbrose prince that she’d had no intention of making. She didn’t even know him. They’d shared a few words and an exhilarating dance—and hot sex—but that didn’t make a relationship. Stacia had dated men for years without making a commitment to bond with them. Of course, she’d always feared that they’d wanted her money instead of her, which was why she’d never accepted their proposals. Balfor had no need of her wealth so that probably wasn’t his motivation, but that didn’t mean she would accept any sort of relationship proposal from him.
He didn’t seem in the least bit fazed by her shocked tone. “You will move to my suite. In time, you may have your own rooms. You may choose which ones you want in the Grand Column.” He pulled her into his embrace, and Stacia was so in shock at his pronouncement that she didn’t resist. He ran his clawed fingers gently down her back, which left shivers of lust in their wake. “For now, I want you sleeping only in my bed.”
“Wait!” Coming to her senses, she tried to push away from him. He only released her enough for her to look up at his face. His wings had closed around them, shutting off her view of the room, and of Lilith, presumably still a witness to all of this. “This isn’t what I wanted!”
Balfor’s claws dented the skin of her back as his hands tightened. His glare should have melted her on the spot, but he didn’t release her. “You said yes.”
Now that he mentioned it, Stacia vaguely recalled him asking her a question that morning in the darkness. She blushed as she recalled begging him to touch her and taste her. “I said yes to sex!” She was grateful for his wings hiding them from Lilith’s eyes. “I never agreed to become your concubine.” Did I?
His lips twisted in a snarl. “You agree to one, you agree to both. It is our law. This information was provided to you before you even arrived in Sanctuary.”
Stacia cursed under her breath. The massive digital files that she’d been provided had been filled with mind-numbingly boring legalese. There’d been so many rules, laws, and codes of conduct and etiquette that she’d just sort of skimmed over them. She didn’t remember seeing anything about umbrose mating practices in there, but knowing Lilith’s attention to detail, it probably was. “Listen….” She pushed her palm against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his muscles twitching at her touch.
After a long moment, Balfor’s chest moved with his laughter. Stacia looked up at him, and her cheeks burned hotter as she realized that she’d grown so distracted stroking his pecs that she’d trailed off speaking.
“You’re my concubine, and it’s clear that you’re as eager as I am to take advantage of that. We will go now to my suite.” He pulled her tight against him.
“Wait! We’re not done discussing this yet!” Stacia tried to push him but this time he wouldn’t budge. “Lilith!”
“Sorry, Stace! I did send you documents about this.” The sound of Lilith’s answer was muffled by Balfor’s wings surrounding her, but if Stacia didn’t know better, she’d think her best friend was laughing at her predicament.
“Okay, just let me go so I can pack my things. Then I’ll have Lilith lead me to your rooms.” She had no intention of doing so, but she needed some distance between them, because the feel of his hard muscle and hot velvety skin against hers was weakening her resolve to run away.
“I can feel your intent in the tension of your body. I will not allow you to leave Sanctuary.” The deep rumble of his bass voice throbbed against the cheek she had pressed against his chest. “I will take you to my suite now and spend the rest of this day and night reminding you of why you accepted my claim.”
She shivered in his embrace. She didn’t need much reminding. He felt really good against her, and it’d been a while since she’d been held so close by a man. “You’ll have to let me go so I can walk to your rooms.”
Balfor’s laugh was short. “Walk?”
Suddenly, everything got dark as though she’d been struck blind. She clung to Balfor, wrapping her arms around his waist, clenching her fingers into the muscles of his back. “What’s happening?”
“We’ll be there in a moment.” Balfor’s tone was calm and it reassured her. For some reason, she felt safe with him, at least when it came to unexplained darkness surrounding them.
The floor dropped away from under her feet just as she was able to see again, and Stacia gripped him harder. He seemed unperturbed by her nails digging into his flesh. She tried to look around as the meager light allowed her to see the curve of Balfor’s pectorals, but he still held her tight, and his wings still surrounded her, blocking her view.
Only seconds passed until it got blindingly dark again. She closed her eyes against the darkness, breathing in Balfor’s scent and pressing her cheek against his solid strength to remind herself that whatever was happening, she wasn’t going through it alone. Then, he set her on her feet on the ground and released her, stepping back far enough so she could get her bearings as his wings folded against his body.
Stacia blinked at him, able to see him now that the light was the blue-green of the adura harac fungus. “What in the hells just happened?”
Balfor smiled. “We’re now in my chamber.” His sweeping gesture took in their surroundings.
Stacia glanced at the opulent luxury of the room they stood in and then turned her attention back to him with a glare. “How did we get here?”
His shrug caused his muscles to ripple distractingly, shifting his folded wings. “I brought you here. We traveled with the shadows.”
“Don’t ever do that again!” It had been unexpected and disorienting. Though she hadn’t had much time to be frightened, the feeling of being out of control of the situation had nearly triggered an anxiety attack the likes of which she hadn’t had in over a year. It was only Balfor’s arms around her that had kept her grounded while the entire world shifted.
Looking away from her, Balfor rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s only unnerving the first time. Eventually, you become accustomed to it.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t want to become accustomed to it. I don’t want to do that again!”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her with tight lips, a deep frown line creasing the skin between his brows. Then he shrugged. “It’s not something I would do often. It requires effort to move us both in such a manner.” The careless tone he used to reassure her that he wouldn’t put her through that again didn’t match his expression.
Stacia suddenly got the impression that she’d failed some sort of test, and insulted him, or disappointed him. She was angry at herself for feeling bad about that.
Seeming to forget his irritation with her, he stepped close to her again. “But you’re here now. Our previous time together was too short. Let’s rectify that.” He caught the edge of her veil with one lethal ebony claw as if he intended to pull it off.
Jerking away from him, she clapped her hand to the veil to hold it on and retreated several paces across the room. “I’m not ready for this.” She wasn’t certain how she was supposed to extricate herself from this concubine situation diplomatically. What was worse was that her body had already embraced the idea of keeping Balfor around.
His fists clenched as his wings spread behind him, but his expression remained neutral. “You were more than ready this morning when you summoned me.”
“I didn’t expect you to actually show up!” I wanted you to, but that still seemed safe enough since I didn’t tell anyone about it!
He growled. “Ranove has told me that I must be more tolerant of your defiance than I would be of an umbrose female, but I have my limits. You’re testing my patience. Remove your veil! You’re not to hide your face from your protector.”
This could be the ticket to getting out of this arrangement without jeopardizing the deal that had been made with DI and any future alliances between umbrose and humans. Perhaps the scars would be enough to convince him that he didn’t want this commitment any more than she did. Lilith had told her that an umbrose warrior could revoke his claim on his concubines at any time. It was something that had once worried Lilith greatly.
Despite her certainty that she would not like being Balfor’s concubine—and her body’s insistence that she would love it—Stacia did fear that Balfor would likely revoke his claim on her when he saw her face in the full light. It would hurt her pride more than anything, but at least she’d know that he was a shallow creature, and the best part would be that she could leave Sanctuary with their trade agreement intact.
By the time she’d come to the conclusion to remove her veil, he looked angry enough to stride over to her and rip it off himself. Stacia quickly pulled it off before he could act on the fury visible in his tense muscles and twitching wings. When she felt the first kiss of air against her scarred flesh, she lifted her chin, turning her face so the light caught on the scars bisecting her cheek and chin.
His entire body relaxed and his wings returned to their tight folds against his back. Stacia didn’t want to see his expression of disgust, so she kept her eyes focused on the wall as he approached her.
“It would seem that you understand limits. This is good. Perhaps someday you will learn that not everything must be a battle between us.”
She gasped when he stroked his finger along the ridge of her cheek scar, then across her lower lip to her chin. To avoid looking at his face, she watched his hand. “My scars bother you, don’t they?”
“Yes.” He cupped her cheek in his large hand, his calloused palm rough against the grafted area of skin as he applied enough pressure that she lifted her chin further, though she still wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Though she’d expected him to feel repulsed by her scars, she hadn’t anticipated that he would admit it so bluntly. Humans were usually polite and circumspect about such things. He studied her with the same intensity that her surgeons had, only in his case, she felt even more exposed.
Tired of his appraisal, she pulled away from his hand and turned her back on him. “So my scars turn you off. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” The umbrose were a singularly handsome race when it came to their faces, and according to Lilith, their rapidly regenerative biology did not leave behind many scars. In fact, if anything could permanently scar an umbrose Lilith hadn’t been told about it.
Balfor’s laughter only hurt her more. He’d been insensitive up until this point, so she didn’t know why she expected anything better from him, or why she’d even care what he thought, but now he was being downright cruel.
“Is that what you meant when you asked if your scars bothered me?” His tone was surprised as well as amused.
Stacia’s shoulders tensed when he set his hands on them. She tried to resist when he pulled her back against him, but he was too strong.
The evidence of his arousal nestled against her back. “My need for you remains as strong as before. I saw your scars this morning as well.” His usually smooth voice was rough, and for the first time, she heard an accent creep in, as if he was too affected to control the precision of his speech. “Your scars do not diminish your appeal. I’m bothered by them because they remind me of the danger you willingly thrust yourself into. As your protector, I’ve vowed to keep you safe, but I wonder if I will be able to protect you from your own poor choices. Humans are so fragile, so easily broken. If I relax my vigilance for even a moment, will you slip away and find a danger that I will not be in time to save you from?”
His words made Stacia’s breath catch, and put a whole new meaning on much of what he’d said and done. She’d viewed the claim tradition the umbrose practiced as males controlling females and treating them like property. She should have known better from Lilith’s description of her relationship with Ranove, but it had still seemed like such a primitive arrangement. “I don’t need rescuing.”
His hand returned to her cheek, his fingers stroking her scars. Despite the pointed meaning behind the caress, she found that she liked the way it felt when he touched her like that.
“Your body cannot survive your fierce spirit, Stacia. Why are you always so willing and ready to fight?”
She pulled away from his embrace and turned to face him. “You’re a fine one to talk. You’re the one constantly at war.”
“The umbrose fight for our survival. You fight against common sense.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Was there a need for you to infiltrate the adurian tower? Were there no human warriors who were physically superior? Why do humans send their females into battle? Why do you volunteer for it, as if your survival means nothing to you?”
“Humans recognize that women are just as capable as men.”
He waved away her words. “Humans are fools to send those who are physically weak to fight their battles. There are better tasks to prove your capability.”
“Like what? Raising babies? Isn’t that the traditional viewpoint of primitives?” She regretted her bitter words as soon as they were out of her mouth.
Instead of taking offense, he seemed amused. “Being a mother is far more important than any other role. Mothers have a sacred duty. They create and mold the future of an entire species.” He shrugged. “You call it primitive. I call it basic. The very foundation of life is the mother. Without her, the umbrose are nothing. Humans are nothing.”
Belatedly, Stacia recalled that the umbrose worshipped a deity they called the Mother of Shadows. Hearing his words, she realized that whatever else he might think, he did respect at least that aspect of females. Of course, Stacia had never considered her womb important, as she’d had no intention of ever bearing children. But she vaguely remembered her own mother, mostly a light floral scent, soft skin, silky hair, and a beautiful voice that would sing her to sleep at night or read her bedtime stories about amazing imaginary places. She’d felt the absence of that woman her entire life, as her father
had gone about the business of business and left her care to a series of professionals paid to educate her, but not to love her. “Do you remember your mother, Balfor?” Somehow, it was difficult to picture the prince as ever being young and vulnerable.
An expression of sadness crossed his face that was gone so quickly she wondered if she’d imagined it. “I remember her and all of her sisters and the other females who raised the young in our clutch.”
“Do you miss her?” Because now that the subject had been brought up, Stacia realized that she missed her mother very much, and had been missing her for her entire life. Especially when she thought of all the major moments she’d experienced that her mother would never see.
Balfor’s laugh sounded bitter. “She’s with me in spirit.” Before she could say anything else, he continued. “I grow tired of this conversation. I did not bring you here to discuss such things.” He surprised her by taking her hand and pulled her towards him. “Take a look around you. You’re in the Grand Column Royal Suite. Have you nothing to say of this room?”
Happy to end the depressing discussion, she finally took a good look around her, noting the details she’d missed in her earlier glance at the chamber. The floors were marble, but black, with sparkling bits of gold that glittered like stars in a night sky. The walls were the same calcite-rich cream colored composite, but everything else in the room was lush, from the scattered fur and elaborately woven rugs, to the massive bed made from the dark heartwood of the jungle trees. The fireplace was large enough to fit multiple people. A huge black-bladed sword hung over the black marble mantle. The simple hilt looked well-worn and stained silver on the leather-wrapped grip. The blade seemed to suck in the light from the surrounding wall lamps.
Tapestries on the walls depicted umbrose in battle with adurians, or hunting beasts she’d never seen before, or simply patterns and designs that were beautiful. The other furniture in the room consisted of a lounge chair and pair of comfortable-looking chairs upholstered by fabric that gleamed like moonfloss, a table and set of ornately carved chairs, and several wooden chests and trunks with heavy silver or steel bindings.
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