The pure falcons had ruled before and they’d nearly lost the planet due to their rash actions. After, it became acknowledged that women would lead, not hot-blooded men. And since pure falcons were the most hot-blooded of all, it wasn’t smart to let them reproduce with nobles of power. The fear ran deep that the actions of the past would be repeated. Besides, none could argue that the women did not do a superior job in making decisions and managing politics. Half of politics was dinner parties and hosting dignitaries anyway. Kings made for excellent bodyguards to their women, not to mention they raised the children, training them to defend themselves. Since Falconian men had naturally more physical energy, it only made sense that they would tend to the children.
The hall was filled, so packed with people that they spilled over into the courtyard outside. Rurik felt someone grab his arm. It was a light pull and he automatically smiled, expecting to see a female beside him. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Let me be your guest tonight, Commander,” the petite blonde said, pursing her lips. She was dressed like the middle class, in a long tunic gown of light green. The sleeves tightly fitted to her wrists with decorative buttons up the side and the rounded neck of the gown revealed a pleasing amount of cleavage. The bodice hugged her curves before flaring into a skirt at the lower hip.
“No, I want to be your guest, Commander,” another woman said, a pout in her tone. He looked at his other arm, seeing a dark-haired temptress dressed very much like the lighter one, only in blue. Only commanders, nobles and guests of honor would be seated in the hall, with others only as room permitted.
He wasn’t surprised they knew his position, for the two long, dark wings were hard to miss. Unlike the non-military Falconians, the warriors had wings. Pure born had them since birth, others grew them in time with the help of magic when they took their vow into the army. But, unlike the others, natural wings were darker and longer, reaching nearly to the ground when laid flat against the back.
The blonde put her hand on his chest, twining her fingers in the laces that held his tunic shirt together, which was more like a long jacket. The laces crossed down the front, from neck to waist, only to hang open at his legs so as not to hinder movement. The delicate silver and blue material was of the finest quality. As the woman’s fingers traced the laces down to his waist, his body stirred in response, pressing against the tight black breeches he wore underneath.
“I’d do almost anything to see Princess Ari’s Mating Day,” the blonde said, batting her lashes with obvious meaning.
Rurik suppressed a frown as he thought of Ari. She’d been a stuck up child and rumor had it she’d turned into an even more pretentious adult. Over the years, her true nature had been more than apparent. She’d signed the order to send his men on some of the worst missions. It was as if she wanted him dead and all because he had a little crush on her when they were children. Sure, he’d teased her, but mostly because he wanted her to loosen up.
Well, they weren’t children anymore and he’d outgrown Princess Ari. Now he was an acclaimed warrior of the Fifth and if his keen sense of smell was any indication, these two women were definitely interested in helping him pass his time at the palace.
Lifting his arms, he hugged both women to his sides. “Now, ladies, don’t fight. You can both be my guest. There is plenty of room on my lap for the two of you.”
The women giggled. Rurik lifted his gaze briefly to the high throne in the middle of the hall, to where Princess Ari would drink from the Chalice. Let the princess have her mate, and blessed wings save the man chosen to it.
Already the hall was filled. Soon it would be time for the ceremony. Drinks were set out in goblets along the lower tables. Seeing some of his men in the back, he could tell they were already far into their cups by the way they moved and laughed. Rurik led the women alongside him toward the table.
“May the poor sod be whisked away on blessed wings, far from this palace and the arms of the princess,” Lleu said, his second-in-command. The others laughed at the toast.
“Likely she’ll dagger him in her bed tonight,” Ivor added. The warrior was missing an eye, thanks to Ari’s command to go into battle against Doc Truman and the Medical Mafia who had tried to set up posts in their marshes. It wasn’t that any of them were afraid of fighting the mafia, but at the time they’d been exhausted from defending the skies against pirates. It wasn’t bad, except Terrick, Commander of the Fourth, later told them his men had been without a thing to do for months. Ari seemed to have it in for the Fifth.
“Only if it is a man from the Fifth,” Rurik said, holding the two women to his side. “She does like to see our blood run, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, have you been hurt in battle, Commander?” the blonde asked.
“See now, my most pretty feather, the commander merely floats in the sky as we warriors do all the work,” Ivor said. He pointed meaningfully at the blue eye patch that covered the empty socket. “If it’s stories of battle you’d like, then come sit by me. I’ve got many wounds that could use a female’s gentle touch.”
The women giggled.
“Get your own.” Rurik laughed, taking a seat. With a swoop of his arms, he hauled both women onto his knees. “These two are my guests.”
“Then you’d better take a drink, doves.” Lleu slid a couple goblets in front of them, “Because I’m told the commander only looks cute after a few dozen goblets.”
Rurik laughed at the good-natured ribbing as Lleu handed him a goblet as well, taking it off a nearby table.
“Hey, that’s mine!” a burly warrior with long blond hair yelled.
“Go squawk to someone who cares,” Lleu answered, just as surly.
Rurik closed his eyes, ignoring the men as the blonde kissed his ear. The darker woman reached down so that her hand rested against his inner thigh, her fingers tapping lightly as she took a long drink of the stout liquor. His arousal lifted in response and he adjusted in his seat. Looking up at the empty throne, he thought that the ceremony couldn’t come fast enough. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ari again and the sooner he could get out of her hall the better. And the sooner she was mated, the sooner he could forget all about her by burying himself in the two willing beauties before him.
Chapter Two
Ari held her head high as she walked under the archway into the hall. She had waited in the hallway leading from her bedchambers until her father could escort her.
The red stone of the palace had been adorned with the long purple flowering vines found in the prairies outside the battlements. They were strung in garlands along the tall ceilings and archways. Regal music sounded, announcing her arrival, as she walked down an aisle formed between the tables. Noble families and esteemed warriors filled the many tables around the center platform. All of them were well-dressed, though some were more wealthily adorned than the others. At her appearance, those gathered in the packed hall stood in respect, though they didn’t stop talking amongst themselves. It was an old tradition, one carried on for millenniums, supposedly long before her people had come to inhabit Falconia.
In the crowd, she was able to pick out a few of the better-suited males to be her husband. Sure, she had no real final say in the match, but usually the wishes of the bride were magically taken into consideration. The peasants rarely had trouble in mating to the men they loved. But, being as she was royalty, her future would not be so certain. If she had her choice, she would pick Lord Cyril of Karvof’s son, Lynus. He was a little young, but very sexy and his father was a great nobleman with a lot of land close to the palace. Lynus smiled at her as she passed and she let the corner of her mouth lift in response. It wasn’t love, but a prudent choice.
Suddenly, a round of feminine laughter caught her attention. It was just a little louder than the rest of the voices. She looked forward, but couldn’t see who was making the noise. The music continued. When she looked at her father, so finely dressed in his dark green robes, her smile widened. He led her to the steps that
wound around the edge of the platform. Circling around it, they climbed to the top. From the vantage point, she was better able to see the crowd. Those standing tried to find seats as she waited before them. Slowly, she drew her gaze to the side, where the feminine laughter was coming from.
“Rurik,” she whispered in surprise. She’d have recognized him anywhere. His chin-length dark brown hair was longer in the back, shorter in the front. The bangs framed his piercing black eyes. Ari had forgotten how much his eyes had disturbed her when they were younger.
“Ari?” her father asked. “Did you speak?”
“Nae,” she answered, shaking her head. She forced her eyes away from Rurik, only to find them drawn back to him. Seven seasons had passed, nearly twelve years. How much time had changed things, and how little it did as well. It took all of Ari’s willpower to continue to smile at the gathered crowd. He was much bigger than she remembered, with a harder edge to his features. But that was not all that had changed.
Her jaw tightened in irritation. Rurik had two women on his lap and they were indecently rubbing themselves against him. A pang of irritation shot through her at the sight. Not that she wanted Rurik or anything, she assured herself. It was just rude of him to act in such a way in her hall, on this day. Ari refused to notice a few of the other men who also sat with amorous women—some of whom were her honored attendants.
Rurik’s eyes met hers and he stopped moving his hand on the dark-haired woman’s back. Ari recognized the woman. She was the daughter of the palace baker and had already given herself to many of the men in the palace, including Ari’s father in recent years if rumors held true. She looked at the king, wondering if he was jealous. He didn’t even notice the woman.
Seeing movement at her side, she saw the Chalice attendant coming up the stairs. The music stopped and the hall quieted. The young girl wore a white robe with a dark green and yellow stripe down the front. Her red hair hung loose about her shoulders, nearly touching the floor.
Without a word, she held up the Chalice. Ari’s fingers shook as she reached out. Hesitant, she took it. Feelings of hope and fear warred inside her. She’d managed to stay calm until this moment, but now her body shook from head to toe. She didn’t want to drink and in a moment of panic she almost threw the Chalice to the ground in refusal. She looked at Lynus, wondering if she’d wake up next to him. Then, as she brought the cup to her lips and tasted the first sip of the magical pink liquid, her gaze darted to the side. Rurik’s eyes were on her, steadily staring at her like everyone else’s.
The liquid was unlike any she’d ever tasted, somewhat like punch and liquor and tingling herbs all in one. It slid thickly down her throat and she coughed lightly, forcing herself to drink the entire concoction. A buzzing started in her ears as she drew the Chalice down from her mouth. She’d heard the sensations described, but feeling them was something else altogether. Her hands went numb and she looked down in time to see them become transparent. The Chalice dropped and the young girl leaned over to catch it. Suddenly, a bright white light bombarded her and she heard droplets of rain seconds before the world went black.
* * * *
Rurik bit the inside of his lip, his gut clenched as he watched Ari lift the Chalice to drink. Even from across the hall he could see that her eyes hadn’t changed in their blue intensity. She saw him, he had no doubt, but she didn’t smile, didn’t show that she recognized him.
Part of him wanted to watch her, the beauty of her face, the soft curves of her body as she moved beneath the clinging material. The years had been kind to her, maybe too kind for they’d made her a gorgeous woman. He’d heard people speak of her beauty, but in his mind she was always the young girl, awkward and without power. He’d been attracted to her then, but now, now she was a woman and attraction didn’t even begin to cover what he felt.
The two women kissed his neck, but he didn’t feel them, not really. Their hands were on his thighs, but in his mind he only wanted one person and neither of them was she. His hands trembled, and he longed to wipe the makeup from her face, longed to run his fingers through her loosened hair.
Ari drew the Chalice down from her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked down. The Chalice dropped from her hand and he felt a strange tingling in his stomach, an almost nauseous sensation. Jealousy? Regret? Anger? A shiver worked over his spine and he couldn’t move.
“You’re cold as ice.” The blonde pulled away from him. “Commander, what is it?”
“He’s freezing,” the dark haired temptress added.
“Commander?” Ivor and Lleu said simultaneously.
Rurik opened his mouth to say he was fine, but a rush of air hit him, filling his lungs and knocking the breath from him, followed by a blinding light. He couldn’t see a thing as the noises of the hall disappeared into the pounding sound of warriors’ feet running over a battlefield seconds before they took to flight.
Then, suddenly, darkness replaced the light, a heavy, disorienting contrast. Soft cushioning pressed into his hands and knees and he realized he was bent over on a soft mattress. Something warm was by his leg and he reached over blindly to feel what it was.
“It’s done,” a woman whispered. There was relief in her tone. “I can’t believe it’s finally done.”
His fingers ran over a leg, buried within a gown. It didn’t take long to ascertain it belonged to the woman.
Nae, not just a woman. It belonged to…
“Ari?” he whispered.
Rurik drew his hand away as if burnt. Jerking back, he spread his wings slightly. They bumped an invisible boundary. He reached for it, feeling the air like a thick wall encircling them and keeping him trapped with the princess.
“Yea,” Ari said. Her tone had deepened into an almost sultry, vixen’s tone.
“Princess Ari?” he said, more to himself than to her.
“Yea, are you well, Lord?” she asked. “Did the transition take you by surprise? What is your name? Who has the Chalice chosen for me?”
“I can’t believe this. It’s a mistake.”
“The only way it’s a mistake, Lord, is if you are…” the woman paused, “a pure blood.”
Rurik froze and started to lower his naturally deep tone an octave more, but then stopped himself. He didn’t expect Ari to remember his voice. “No taste for pure bloods?”
“What? Um, nae, it’s just they can’t rule.”
His gut tightened. The way she said it, so knowingly, so finally, as if it were fact. His kind had ruled without problem until the end.
Rurik didn’t know what came over him, but he was suddenly aroused with passion like he’d never known before. It was a mixture of desire, anger, the need to conquer once and for all. He didn’t stop to think as he reached for her leg. Ari tensed beneath his hand, moaning softly. He could sense the need in her, the swift rush of passion at his touch. She was not immune to him.
When they were younger, he’d wanted to touch her so badly. He’d dreamed of her, masturbated to her, was tortured when she thought his love note to her was from another. How could he not lie about it though, when she’d laughed in his face at the thought of it being from him?
All the feelings he’d suppressed as a young man came surging forth and he had to touch her, had to show her he wasn’t the same person. Rurik had to show himself. He would make her respond to his touch, make her moan, make her fall in love before she ever saw his face and then…
He couldn’t think beyond that part in his plan. The bed was soft, the area dark. Concentrating, he tried to see, using his naturally superior vision to pierce the darkness. It didn’t work. He couldn’t see through the magical barrier the Chalice created.
Running his hand down to her ankle, he pushed up the thin material of her gown. Even now he could picture her, standing by the throne, in the seductive, clinging gown, her long hair an impossible mess of twists to form a crown. He would’ve much rather seen the long red length down about her shoulders.
She was naked beneath the gown
and he lightly caressed his way up her leg, her thigh, her hip. The texture of her skin was like a dream. This couldn’t be happening. Ari’s breathing audibly deepened and the sweet smell she emitted made his insides tense.
“Hold.” She sounded insecure. “A moment. Hold.”
“You’re beautiful, Ari.” Rurik didn’t stop. He couldn’t. “When will we ever get another chance for this day? Let it happen. Let your mind think what it will.”
Lightly, he kissed her hip, trailing his lips along her flesh. There was a bittersweet pleasure when she gasped. Would she be so willing, so passionate if she knew it was his lips that kissed her? Rurik hesitated, warring with himself. This was destined. The Chalice’s magic brought him to her, gave her to him. But what if magic had gotten it wrong this time? What if the potion had been tainted?
Then this would be his only chance to have Ari. Years had passed and he’d thought he was over her, but obviously that wasn’t the case. Being a warrior, he knew how to take what he wanted. Rurik would not, could not back down.
Leaning back, he ripped her gown open along the front. The metal band around her body would be too hard to take off as it was bent to the shape of her chest and back. Tossing the material to the side, he closed his eyes, picturing her naked body before him.
Ari made small noises similar to prey cornered by the hunter. Her legs were restless. As he leaned over, she reached to touch his chest. He stiffened, worried she might explore him and find the wings along his back. They’d give his position away and she’d know he was a warrior and that a mistake had been made.
Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set Page 2