“Oh—”
“Enough gloomy talk.” He turned to kiss her cheek.
The scent of her passion still lingered on her skin, and his wolf howled in pain, its demands becoming stronger and more urgent every minute. But for her sake, he would fight the beast for as long as it took to reach Adris. She needed his touch and denying it would be cruel, especially after the ordeal they had both suffered through the night before.
It had taken all Valentine’s strength to decline what was freely offered. Mirella’s invitation would have left him dazed even if he were sober, but he had battled on three different fronts. His bride’s sweet caresses. His wolf’s demands. His mind made vulnerable by the alcohol. He had won, but his victory was far from satisfactory. Instead, refusing her had left him in a state of despair because he had wounded Mirella in the process. It didn’t matter that he had her best interest at heart if he caused her pain.
A sudden realization hit him: His bride would never be safe with him. It would only take a moment of weakness to succumb to the wolf. One day he would be too tired and weak to refuse her, and foreplay would transform into carnal possession. He couldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t let it happen.
The decision he had to make was clear, but thinking about the solution that would solve the problem enlarged the hole in his chest. The ache that had taken permanent residence in his heart since he had found Mirella in Dragon’s bed had never gone away. Not even when the truth had been revealed, exonerating both his bride and his guest from any wrongdoing. If anything, the hole grew larger every day.
“I don’t tell anyone about the paintings,” he found himself saying.
The words might have seemed sudden and unrelated to the topic they had been discussing, but they were linked to his need to get closer to her in any way he could.
“Why?” she asked, placing her hand over his.
“Because my father Marcellus thought painting was unbecoming of a wolf.”
“But you are so good at it—”
“I had an art tutor, but Marcellus found out and sent him away. So I taught myself.”
“You did an excellent job.”
“Thank you.” Her praise warmed his heart, lessening the ache for a moment. “I used to spend all my free time in my art studio. Marcellus never knew the room even existed. I kept it a secret from anyone but Gabriel for a long time. After every session, I had to shed all my clothes and shower thoroughly to remove the smell of oil color and turpentine from my skin and hair.”
“Did you wear your mane long even then?”
“I did. I used to braid it, but it wasn’t enough to keep the paint smell away.” Valentine chuckled at the memory. “Gabriel always asked me why I didn’t cut my hair, but a wolf doesn’t do that—” The comment died in his mouth.
How ironic that Gabriel had been the one to shave his head at last.
“I’m sorry you had to go through the ordeal of the duel—” Mirella took his hand to her lips.
“It’s not your fault, and you went through it too.” He turned to kiss her cheek. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve killed Dragon—”
The Solarian was as skilled as Valentine at fighting with the electric saber, and they both followed a strict code of conduct. But Valentine had been bent on revenge and wouldn’t have stopped before spilling the dragon shifter’s blood. And he would have lost Mirella. The idea that his beloved bride had lain with another man drove him mad. Only her courage saved him from committing a crime and damning himself to a lonely and bitter life.
Valentine landed the Desert Fire a second time and helped Mirella to the ground, then dismounted himself.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a puzzled expression as he took her in his arms.
“Thank you,” he whispered, seeking her mouth.
She was soft and reciprocated his kiss with tenderness, hugging him as if he was the one needing support. And he was.
“I’d do anything for you,” Mirella said.
“Kitten…” He was lost in her spell, caressing her back in long strokes, rocking both their bodies to a rhythm only he could hear. Even his wolf respected the holiness of the moment, without instilling lustful thoughts in Valentine’s mind.
Closing his eyes, he imagined a life where she would be with him forever. Daughters and sons brightening the long Lupine days. The simple happiness mortals enjoyed without knowing how precious the sentiment was.
A cruel joke had been played on him at birth when he killed his mother. Since that day forth, Valentine had been set apart from humanity and took his rightful place among the monsters that filled the mortals’ nightmares. And now that he had found peace and acceptance in his bride’s embrace, fate was knocking again to remind him his atonement was about to start.
His wolf cried, a long mournful wail that dampened Valentine’s eyes.
And I’d do anything for you, kitten. He knew better than to utter the words out loud when he was about to send her away from him. He kissed her instead, with all the love he could never express in words, hoping she would understand him.
Then, in the spur of the moment, he said, “Would you like to visit your family while I’m occupied with the merchants?”
Chapter Five
After that second landing and his unexpected proposal to stop by her paternal home, Valentine drove the airbike toward the city at breakneck speed. The spires and hanging gardens of Adris appeared on the horizon too soon. The sight didn’t cheer Mirella as it usually did. Even the idea of seeing her sisters wasn’t enough to disperse the sense of loss she felt.
She and Valentine had shared a moment of unrestrained tenderness, and Mirella wept in his arms. For a moment, she thought she saw love reflected in his eyes, but there was also sadness in his gestures, a hurried quality that laced his caresses with desperation. Her thoughts had colored with grievance and Valentine kissed her tears, cradling her closer. Then he helped her back on the Desert Fire and resumed their flight.
The glass walls of the Central District reflected Coral’s orange rays as they sped past the tall circular buildings and the suspended walkways connecting them. Trees dotted the bridges at regular intervals, giving the pedestrians strolling to work relief from the midday heat. The branches had been pruned to resemble large umbrellas in every shade of red and yellow. Alongside the suspended walkways, glossy-black gondolas flew the businesspeople who didn’t have time to enjoy a restorative walk.
On their way to Laguna, the rich residential area where her family lived, Valentine drove over the Royal Aquatic Park and its clear dome revealing majestic hydrosauruses swimming in the sealed pool. Imported from Celestia, the marine mammals could only survive in an atmosphere that duplicated their aquatic planet of origin. The gigantic glass bowl stood out in the middle of the Gardens, hectares of manmade rolling hills, artificial lakes, and waterfalls that occupied part of the desert bordering Laguna. Couples and families enjoyed the park’s facilities, and children played in the shallow pools.
“I wish we could spend some time at Rainbow Waterfall,” Valentine said, then brushed her crown, tightening his hold on her waist. “I’ll try to speed up the negotiations, but merchants like to reminisce about the good old times, and a whole day is gone before much is ever accomplished. At least you’ll have several hours of gossip with your sisters.”
Although veiled with a trace of sadness still lingering in his tone, the words were light and caught her by surprise. Her marriage had been a swirl of events, and she wasn’t used to this new intimacy or seeing this unguarded side of her husband. She had also never heard him speak more than a few words to her and wished they would take longer to reach her parents’ house so that they could keep talking.
The familiar rooftop garden was in sight already though, and she could only hope Valentine would be in the same agreeable mood the next time they were alone.
The Desert Fire circled the building shaped like an inverted pyramid, tiered with balconies filled with plants and flowery bu
shes. The five-story edifice had been home to the Canalis for as long as the surname had been known on Lupine.
Mirella had always considered the steel and glass structure her golden cage. Looking at it from a distance, she was now swept by sweet memories of a time when her life had been uncomplicated.
Valentine landed on the platform jutting from the third floor, stopping by Mirella’s father’s aircar. Aikon, the family’s majordomo appeared at the arched entrance a moment later.
“Blessed Bride, what a pleasure to see you,” the older man said, descending the staircase.
Mirella blinked. It was awkward to be called by her title by the man who had seen her swaddled in infant bands. Compounding her confusion, he bowed before Mirella, then repeated the gesture for Valentine. “Master Lobo.”
Vera and Lucilla erupted outside, yelling her name at the top of their lungs. When they saw Valentine, they stopped and hurriedly curtseyed, but he seemed amused by their lack of decorum and tilted his head in acknowledgment.
“Let’s invite Master Lobo and the Blessed Bride in, ladies,” Aikon said, eyeing Vera and Lucilla with a raised eyebrow.
Valentine raised one hand. “I must depart at once.” He then looked at Mirella. “I’ll try to be back before dinnertime.” Leaning, he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, then mounted his airbike and left.
When she didn’t immediately react, her sisters dragged and pushed her inside the house, assailing her with questions.
“How are you?”
“Is it true your husband killed a man?”
“They say you betrayed Lobo!”
“Were you really in Dragon’s bed?”
“He’s the most handsome man—”
“He’s a barbarian!”
“You’re such a racist.”
“They marry two wives!”
“So what? I wish he’d choose me as one of the two.”
“Mirella, my sweet daughter.” Their mother welcomed them in the foyer, halting the bevy of outrageous queries sprouting from her sisters’ mouths.
For once, Mirella was genuinely happy for her mother’s intervention and hugged her. “Mother.” She basked in her mother’s fresh scent. The unmistakable fragrance of rare Solarian violets lingered in the air, reminding Mirella of the perfume she had come to associate with her mother.
“Are you well?” her mother asked with a tilt of her perfectly coiffured head.
“I’m fine—” Mirella started, but her sisters talked over her.
“So tell us what happened at the manor,” Lucilla asked.
At the same time, Vera said, “They say Lobo is so enamored with you that he lost his mind.”
“Let’s sit and have some refreshments.” Their mother turned on her heels, her satin gown whooshing at every step as she led them to the parlor. Raising one long, butterfly sleeve, she pointed at the settee facing the fireplace. “Please sit, daughter dear.” Then she nodded at Aikon. “Something light to eat and iced tea, thank you.”
The majordomo left with a small bow.
Mirella sat between her sisters, bracing for the conversation she would have rather avoided. “I’m sure all sorts of rumors must have reached you—” She should have sent a letter home, but hadn’t thought of that.
“We don’t deal in rumors.” Her mother waved her arm in a half arch, and the jewels bedecking the sleeve caught the red light from the hot embers. “Whatever happened, it’s between you and your husband.” Her remark was meant for Lucilla and Vera, who made disgruntled comments under their breaths.
After a few minutes of chitchat, Aikon came back with a servant who rolled a cart loaded with food and beverages. Mirella wasn’t hungry but ate one of the sweet lavender cakes the family cook was famous for. Her mother had snatched Mama Celia from one of the neighbors after tasting one of her sweet pastries at a party.
Expertly led by her mother, the conversation soon veered toward pleasant albeit uninteresting topics. Even though she had proclaimed she didn’t listen to gossip, several minutes were spent describing the blunders of a few of Adris’s socialites.
Finally, Vera had enough. “Mother, could we have a moment alone with Mirella?”
“Please, Mother,” Lucilla added. “She’s so busy now, being the Blessed Bride and all—”
Their mother let out a suffered sigh, then nodded and released them with a flick of her wrist.
The sisters didn’t waste time dragging Mirella away from the parlor. Mirella expected them to take her up to the fifth floor where their rooms were located.
“You look like you need some fresh air,” Vera said, giving Lucilla a conspiring look and steering Mirella toward the stairs to the lower floors.
“Where are we going?” Mirella asked.
“To the Public Market.” With a wink, Lucilla squeezed Mirella’s hand.
“To the market?” Mirella shook her head, but a sense of elation was already bubbling inside her at the idea of sneaking outside and mingling among the stalls.
“I heard a shipment of Celestian cloths have just arrived, and I want to buy some laces for my evening gown,” Vera explained, running down the stairs.
Chapter Six
Inside the largest chamber in the Commerce Center, antique mechanical workers carried trays with savory pies and mugs of foamy ginger ale. If it weren’t for the quality of the food served, Valentine would have already stormed away. The meeting with Avener Rado and his business associates was dragging far longer than necessary in Valentine’s mind.
The length of those assemblies was dictated by the delicate nature of the negotiations, and diplomatic skills were needed when dealing with more than twenty merchants coming from far away planets. Usually, Valentine would endure the endless blathering for hours, but today his thoughts were on his young bride. He wanted nothing more than to leave and fly to her parents’ house. From there he would take her to the Gardens.
Soon, she would be on a ship, travelling to the safe destination he had chosen for her. He only wanted to spend as much time as possible with her while he still could. His wolf seemed to agree with Valentine and its pacing inside his head had subdued.
“My ships have been travelling back and forth from the Outer Borders for nearly fifteen rotations without a problem, but the space corsairs are becoming increasingly bold. I won’t be transporting goods any longer without a proper escort.” Avener Rado’s words reached Valentine, finally stimulating his interest in today’s meeting.
The older man looked around the oval table, his black eyes resting on each of the merchants and finally stopping at Valentine. “Since my company takes all the risks—”
Valentine raised his hand. “My ships travel along the same route as yours, and they incur the same amount of danger.”
With a pronounced scowl, Rado planted both hands on the table, palms down. “Yes, but Master Lobo, you have an eternity before you to recoup your money. Whereas I’m but human, like the rest of my colleagues.”
While a few gasped as expected, a few mumbled their agreements under their breath instead. Nobody dared speak out loud. Still, a decade or two ago, such open disrespect toward a member of the Brotherhood of the Wolf would have never happened. Times were changing.
“The fact I’m immortal doesn’t mean I like to gamble with my crews’ lives.” Valentine’s eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped low. “I would never endanger one of my men.”
“I never meant to insult you.” Rado had the decency to look down at his hands.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Valentine sat more comfortably and stretched his legs before him. “Since space travel safety concerns everyone involved in interstellar commerce, I will lend one of my charger ships to create a permanent patrolling division.” He let his words sink, then crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I expect everyone present here today to provide ships and crews to the cause.”
The idea was met with minimum enthusiasm by the independent merchants, but the businesspeople associated with Rado were l
ivid. The man must have promised them a different line of action when it came to protecting their borders.
“Do we need a vote?” Valentine asked, but a knock on the chamber’s door gave Rado respite from having to answer.
The mechanical doorman opened the large wooden door with a clank due to the lack of proper maintenance of its rotating gears. Valentine made a mental note to buy the entire clockwork menagerie from the Commerce Center and return the workers to their original splendor.
Dragon Sol entered the room with a smile and said at large, “Since I’m stuck on Lupine, let’s make the most out of it.” After giving Valentine a friendly nod, he walked straight toward Rado. “What did I interrupt?”
Rado returned the smile and showed Dragon the empty chair beside him. “High Lord, you arrive at the most opportune moment.”
“Is that so?” Dragon smirked at Valentine, who shrugged as he took a seat on the chair that could barely contain his large body.
Rado hurried to say, “Yes, Master Lobo was suggesting we offer our ships to create a patrol division—”
Dragon interrupted him. “It’s an excellent idea. I will gladly lend my fastest charger alongside yours.” He grabbed a mug from a passing mechanical worker and took a gulp, then smacked his lips in satisfaction.
“Thank you, High Lord,” Valentine said, unable to contain his amusement.
At the same time, Rado sputtered, “But our fleets aren’t comparable to Master Lobo’s or yours, High Lord. We merchants can’t afford to lose even one of our ships, while you and Master Lobo can do without twenty and not feel the hurt.”
Valentine relaxed his head against the back of his chair and let Dragon talk.
“What would you suggest then?” The Solarian asked, putting down the empty mug and grabbing a plate filled with lamouris pie.
The smell of the savory dish reached Valentine’s nostrils, and both he and his wolf remembered the last time he had eaten lamouris. Visions of Mirella moaning after a taste of Mama Bee’s specialty filled Valentine’s mind. He had to make an effort to listen to Dragon explain why it was in everyone’s best interest to pitch into the communal effort.
The Fifth Moon's Wife (The Fifth Moon Tales Book 2) Page 3