Kerrigan's Race (The Syreni Book 1)

by C. M. Michaels

  I watched on in amusement as Aristos—unaware that I was awake—traced his finger above the letters of his name with a half-quirked grin on his tantalizing stubble-covered face. Proud of that, are you?

  He bit down on my nipple in response, his tongue manipulating the diamond-encrusted piercing until he elicited a moan from my lips. Very. All of Teresolee knows you belong to me now.

  My first instinct was to smack the dopey grin off his face, refute his Tarzan’esqe claim to my body and assert my independence before he got the wrong idea about how our relationship was going to work, but my heart just wasn’t in it. Rather than infuriating me, his possessive words made my already hardening nipples perk up even further. I was thrilled to belong to him, to know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life caring for me. But our claim went both ways, something I was quick to remind him of. My index finger outlined my own name as it cut through the emerald glyph tattoos on his bulging peck muscle. Just as they know you belong to me, my handsome prince. You are mine now.

  The words had barely left my mind before his energizer-bunny of an erection sprung back to life, making me regret our playful banter. It’d been three days since our bonding ceremony and I had yet to leave our bedroom. The sex was amazing, and it kept getting better as I gained more experience with my soulcras, but I needed to prove I was still capable of feeding myself at some point. And bathe. And start my training. And study the religious tablets that had been collecting—moss? fungus?—ever since they’d been piled in what was once again a nursery rather than my bedroom. Not to mention getting an update on the research Aristos had asked the regions to do on birthing strategies and battle tactics.

  As enjoyable as our stay-cation honeymoon had been—he’d be taking me to San Gria to see the underwater caves, waterfalls and lakes Bulrigaard described whether he was aware of that yet or not—it was time to resume some semblance of a normal life, even if I hadn’t yet figured out how to merge our souls.

  Either I’d inadvertently broadcast a portion of my thoughts again—something I still did regularly—or Aristos had picked up on my change in mood. After placing a kiss on my forehead he slid off of me and swam out from underneath the padded netting of our bed, leaving me curled up in the tangled pile of furs. I suppose it’s time we rejoin the world. I believe Taleoek has the day off today. It would be a good opportunity to start your training if you’re up for it.

  I shot out from underneath our covers at the unexpected but very welcome news like he’d lit them on fire, making him shake his head at me as he let out a single chirp, humph of a laugh. I’ll choose to believe it’s your desire to be trained that makes you so anxious to leave our bed rather than the thought of spending time wrestling around with Taleoek, if for no other reason than my pride.

  You are the only male for me, my compar. In spite of my god-awful morning breath, I swam over to give him a prolonged, assuring kiss that promised he wouldn’t be waiting long for our next steamy escapade. Playful teasing or not, there was a trace of jealousy embedded within his thoughts, which was kind of cute. It was nice not to be taken for granted. Have you heard anything back from the regions yet? When can we meet to review their research?

  Tired of swiping wayward hair out of his eyes, Aristos gathered up his eccentric mix of storm-cloud grey, emerald and gold hair—the temporary color was already fading—and bound it at the base of his neck with a piece of canta vine. It’s only been three days, my love. The kind of research we’re asking them to do will take time. The generals won’t be back in Halon’s Gate to brief us on their findings until The Icing… about two months from now, depending on the weather. But the Central Region has plenty of its own research to do while we wait. I met with our master healer, our high priest and our king yesterday to outline everything we need to dig into. Damille, Johnna, Taleoek, Celandor, Venerack and I will sit down with you and your sisters tomorrow. If nothing else, we can educate the three of you on what we already know so we have a common point to start from.

  I guess I was the only one who’d been shirking my responsibilities the past three days. Well, other than pleasing my compar, anyway. We’d been together almost every waking moment, and yet somehow he’d held meetings I wasn’t aware of. He must have worked while I slept. I’ve never heard you refer to Naome and Serienne as my sisters before. That’s totally how I feel about them, you know.

  The shrewd grin that swept across his face revealed the dimple in his left cheek I rarely got to see, making him look even more handsome, if that was possible. In the eyes of the gods you are already family. The next time the Throne of Nine convenes we’ll have you formally recognize them as your sisters. Armiele told me about your plan to have their faces decorated like yours. Hopefully, combined with their new position as members of the royal family, and their standing as affirmed Syreni females, it will be enough to keep them from being taken advantage of.

  I hope so. Bulrigaard’s advances had clearly raised more eyebrows than my own. Maybe if the scraggily old bastard knew he was being watched he’d behave. I’d have to remind him how astute my goddess sight was becoming the next time we spoke. Maybe compliment the décor in his private chambers. Speaking of them being family, can we pass some kind of exemption so they can freely touch me while I’m wearing my chastity belt? I’m pretty sure Naome’s covered already with her being a healer, but I’m not going to have Serienne be executed for hugging me. I can name her as a servant if I need to. It just seems counterproductive, given that we’re trying to raise their standing with the Syreni people.

  Aristos pulled me into his broad arms and nestled my bald head against his chest, his lips laying a trail of soft kisses along my ear. Much like when you decided Naome and Serienne would be required to undergo the purification ceremony each year, what you’re proposing is administrative in nature and only requires a second to become law. I second your very reasonable proposal. From this day forward, as your formally recognized sisters, they are both free to touch you as they wish regardless of if you’re wearing your chastity belt or not. I will have Chancellor Venerack scribe the ruling into law and distribute a copy to each of the regions within the week.

  Our seemingly innocent embrace ended with us back in bed. Again. By the time I finally extracted myself from Aristos’s dungeon of pleasure—about two hours later and completely exhausted—I found a very uncomfortable Commander Taleoek waiting for me in our living room.

  He dropped into a formal bow and fisted his ripped chest with his usual grace, his flushed cheeks the only sign of his embarrassment. Apologies, my queen. Lady Armiele was under the impression that I was expected. Clearly this is not a convenient time to begin your training.

  Taleoek’s lean, muscular physique was on full display with him not wearing his usual battle armor. Bonded or not, it was a lot of eye candy to take in. He had his striking violet hair pulled up in a ready-for-action Sumo-type knot on the top of his head, suggesting that our first session wasn’t going to be of the meet-and-greet variety in spite of his casual appearance. As if his over seven foot sinewy frame wasn’t intimidating enough, his tail was as black as night, giving him an ominous villain vibe like a Syreni Darth Vader. Please forgive me, Commander. It was rude of me to keep you waiting. Had I known you’d arrived I would not have allowed our Prince to distract me. I’m eager to get started.

  We haven’t yet been bonded a week, and you already view me as a distraction? Aristos challenged from behind me. The glide of his fingers along the small of my back sent a pleasurable shiver up my spine.

  An irresistible, jaw-droppingly handsome distraction who makes love like a wild stallion? I offered.

  He slapped me on the rear, letting out a deep, huff-like chirp I had a feeling I was going to hear often before passing behind me to greet Taleoek. When he reached him he leaned his forehead against the commander’s and gave his right shoulder a firm pat. Teach her well, brother, but always be mindful that she is our queen and she carries our princess inside her. No one is to touch her ab
domen under any circumstances, or inflict injuries that could even potentially threaten her or our child’s life. If anyone in your class violates that edict I will kill them and hold you personally accountable.

  Taleoek acknowledged his warning with a nod. As you should, General. I assure you she will not be permitted to join my class until I feel she’s capable of holding her own. I’ll have her spar only with students I trust, and never without my direct supervision. Having said that, you know how intense our training is. She is going to suffer far worse than bruises and minor cuts. She’ll break fingers. Maybe her jaw. Or an arm. Muscles she’s not even aware she has will ache so badly she’ll have trouble swimming home. But I give you my oath as your commander and lifelong friend that she will not suffer any injury that could jeopardize her pregnancy or her own life. And if she commits herself—like I’m confident she will—I will transform her into a hardened warrior. She may even be capable of passing the ascension trials one day.

  The training sounded intense—only a sadist would look forward to being beaten to a pulp everyday—but I wasn’t signing up for some trendy kickboxing aerobics class to lose weight. I was trying to become a skilled enough fighter to keep from having my newborn daughter slaughtered in front of me. If that meant I came home looking like Rocky Balboa for the next three months, so be it.

  Aristos gave him another pat on the shoulder before he turned to look at me. I will leave you to it. I would ask my lovely compar if she is sure this is what she wants, but the steely gaze in her eyes is answer enough. I suggest you keep your own guard up as well, my friend.

  Agreed, Taleoek said with a dolphin-like series of clicks I took for a different form of laughter. Learning the subtle nuances of the aquatic portion of our language was going to take time. I have a feeling the heroic stories surrounding our young queen are but the opening prologue of her legacy.

  Aristos excused himself, asking Ellieandra to bathe him and ensure lunch was provided for all of us after I finished my training. His elderly handmaiden curtsied like a browbeaten dog before scurrying into our bedroom, reminding me of how Armiele had acted when we’d first met, sure that she was going to be beaten for every perceived offense. I had to wonder who these poor women had served in the past. Not that we’d done much to lessen her fears. The sequestered lifestyle we’d led the past three days—while enjoyable beyond words—hadn’t provided much of an opportunity for her to get to know us.

  As for her and Armiele, I got the feeling they’d never been close in spite of how long they must have known each other given their age and the fact that—to my knowledge at least—they’d both grown up in Halon’s Gate. I was grateful they could at least tolerate each other. If they decided they couldn’t continue to share a bedroom we’d have to build an addition onto the house.

  Armiele observed our exchange from the small alcove that served as our kitchen, hard at work cleaning the polished silver platters that had held our breakfast. The short strip of granite countertop had a built-in basin with suction in the bottom to draw away the cleaning fluid and debris before it could pollute the rest of the room. Just one of the many features that were totally unlike any home I’d ever been in. We had no use for couches or chairs. The sandstone walls were decorated with inset carvings and stucco murals depicting our gods in epic battles rather than abstract paintings or pictures of scenic landscapes. And while the Syreni had far more advanced technology than anything earth had ever seen, as far as I could tell, it hadn’t crossed over into the entertainment sector. There was no flat-screen TV with hundreds of channels to surf, or a laptop or smart phone to waste the day away on. Whatever inane post I’d last shared on Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat would be the last anyone would ever see from me.

  I had to believe there were books available to read, at least. I mean, we had universities, after all. From what I’d heard, they taught complex subject matter that would require access to massive amounts of portable written material. Although if there were cavernous libraries filled with novels just waiting to be discovered, it begged the question as to why we still recorded high court rulings and religious teachings by carving them into stone. Maybe the Syreni were just slaves to tradition. I still had so much to learn about the society I’d become a part of.

  But researching potential hobbies to enjoy in my downtime—assuming I’d have some, at some point—was something I could do when Aristos and I were alone. I’d kept Commander Taleoek waiting long enough. I motioned around the cramped living room with my hand. I assume were not going to train in here. Where are we off to?

  In lieu of a response, Taleoek pulled a rectangular piece of glass out of the small pouch strapped around his waist. It had a row of tiny shells attached to the bottom edge, similar to the stone tablet I’d used to communicate with Armiele before I’d mastered telepathic speech. Opening up another pouch, he withdrew a clear, water-filled sack that contained one of the blood sucker things I’d seen attached to Serienne and Naome in the hospital. Taleoek pinched the bright yellow fish behind the gills and held it up to my right shoulder, holding it there until its little suction-cup mouth latched on to me. You’ll be taken to Castra Athena, where I will welcome you as a new cadet. The barracks is over five miles from here on the far side of Halon’s Gate. You’ll have twenty minutes to make the swim. The stride fish breathes twice per minute, and will signal the plankton with each breath. If the number displayed on my screen reaches forty before you’re inside the barracks, you’ll be required to swim back here and try it again. Do I make myself clear, cadet?

  Yes, commander! My eyes widened when the bloodsucker’s tail lit up, sending plankton scurrying out of one of the shells to form a 1 on the glass. Apparently the clock had already started. The tsunami-like wake I left behind as I jetted out of the room sent our iron accent table careening into the wall.

  Castra Athena was a gorgeous oval amphitheater that reminded me of the Roman Colosseum, standing four stories tall with concrete walls and a series of arched openings on the first three floors. The top floor was decorated with the most breathtaking mural I’d seen yet, a continuous battle that wrapped around the entire structure, featuring gruesomely slayed griffins, fallen Syreni warriors, raptors swooping down from the skies and all seven of the deities we worshipped. I’d been so caught up admiring it that the count had reached 38 by the time I officially checked in. Something told me—and by something, I mean Taleoek’s arched brow glower as he showed me my just-under-the-wire time—that I wouldn’t have been cut any slack for sightseeing if I’d been even a second late. I was still trying to catch my breath from the rigorous swim, but as workouts went, it was pretty kick-ass. I doubted swimming alongside dolphins would ever get old.

  I followed behind Taleoek as he led me through a narrow tunnel that emerged inside the amphitheater. There was nothing but miles of open ocean above us, cast in a light blue glow from the stadium-sized phosphorous lamps that lined the top of the building. The stone floor of the arena had been worn smooth by centuries of scrubbing away algae to keep it from engulfing the structure. The building was clearly designed to house thousands of spectators. Each floor contained an endless series of small private balconies, large enough to hold maybe eight Syreni adults. Since I doubted we made slaves fight each other to the death, I was at a loss for the kind of exhibitions that entertained the crowds. That was only one of a million things I couldn’t wait to discover.

  Taleoek removed the stride fish from my shoulder by tapping it on the belly. Rather than putting it back inside the pouch he’d carried it in he chose to set it free. Even though its sucker-shaped mouth generated serious vacuum power it hadn’t broken the skin. I’d left my body jewelry and crown at home, as I was here as a cadet rather than the Syreni queen. Neither my title nor my chastity belt would prohibit my training.

  Today I just want to get a sense of your skill-level through some full-contact sparring. I know you’ve had some martial arts training, but with all due respect, that was when you were human. You no lon
ger have legs to brace yourself or kick with, and you’ll be training underwater. Honestly, what you think you know may hinder you as much as it helps.

  We won’t be shadowboxing, Camithia, Taleoek continued, his already stern expression hardening even further. When you make a mistake I’m going to hit you. Hard. Your initial training will be as much about building your strength and toughening you up as it is teaching you the proper techniques. Once you join my class—assuming you demonstrate that you’re ready for that at some point—if a fellow cadet takes you down I’ll expect you to shake it off and resume fighting unless you’re too injured to continue, in which case you’ll be taken to see a healer. If that occurs too often, or I don’t see you improving, you’ll be dismissed from the training.

  It won’t come to that, I assured him. My daughter’s life depends on me learning how to fight. I won’t fail her.

  He patted me firmly on the shoulder as his face softened, his shimmering violet lips granting me a thin but guarded smile. Let’s hope that it doesn’t.

  Taleoek removed an odd looking belt-like contraption he’d had loosely strapped to his waist and wrapped it around me, positioning the diamond-shaped piece of curved iron over my soulcras and my vagina. I held it in place while he swam behind me and tightened both of the straps. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but I knew all too well why it was necessary given that I’d already put the commander of my royal guard in the hospital. That should keep your soulcras from inflicting any damage should you lose control of them in the heat of battle. Are you ready to get started?

  Yes, commander.

  Very well. You should be plenty warmed up after your swim, so I say we jump right into it. Touch hands with me and prepare to fight.

  I took a moment to focus before stretching my hands out to bump fists with him, trying to recall everything Austin had taught me. My body and arms settled into one of my favorite positions with practiced ease—turned slightly to the side with my left hand out in front at chin level and my right held near my mouth, my whole body relaxed and fluid—but my balance was off with my tail having to tread water to keep me in place rather than dancing back and forth on the balls of my feet like I was used to.