by Lexi Ander
When they exited the helliopod, he glanced over at Gabe in his Hugo Boss tuxedo. Instead of a black tie, Gabe wore a Chándariān green bow tie with a matching pocket kerchief.
“Sūnder!” A’yrē bounded down the steps from the rear door of the embassy, his excited smile infectious. Sūnder hadn’t seen his brother since leaving to stay on the Oberon. “Válora said you’ve been claimed!”
Gabe flushed a brilliant red, and Sūnder barely had time to brace himself before A’yrē pounced, lifting Sūnder off the ground. A’yrē set him down, then caught Gabe up as well. Sūnder chuckled at Gabe’s not-so-stoic squeak when A’yrē squeezed him. Before Gabe could truly protest, A’yrē set him back on his feet. Possessive, Sūnder drew Gabe to his side. A’yrē’s delighted laugh elicited one from Gabe.
“Welcome, brother!”
“A’yrē, Gabe is not used to your exuberance. You have to break him in gently.” Sūnder teased.
Pulling his long braid over his shoulder, A’yrē straightened the rich green jacket he wore over a white filigreed double-breasted vest. The lighter green ruffles that spilled over the neckline and cuffs would have looked overdone on anyone else. A’yrē kept glancing at Gabe, lips twisting as if he considered several replies before he sniffed and said, “My apologies, Gabe. It isn’t every day my brother is mated and I get another sibling. Father keeps telling me that I need to think before acting, and I do—around everybody except family.”
Gabe gave an almost shy smile. “And it’s not every day an only child suddenly has a sibling and a whole new family to call his own. I’m still getting used to everything.” He offered A’yrē his arm. “Are you ready for the Festival… brother?”
A’yrē brightened, tucking his hand in the crook. “We’re going to have a fantastic time!”
“My Prince,” Paulo said from behind them. “Unless we leave immediately, we shall arrive late. The car is being brought around.”
“Good thinking.” Now that Sūnder understood Gabe’s concerns, giving Sūnder a sense of urgency to his health that hadn’t been present before, he was ready to return to the Oberon. But the sooner they arrived at the Festival, the sooner they could leave.
Gabe kept A’yrē busy with a string of questions, for which Sūnder was grateful. It meant he could concentrate on their security instead of entertaining his brother. Paulo’s men were also hyperaware, all of them briefed on the possible issues that might arise. Tālia and her father, Dömini Koi, would be attending the Festival. With Tālia’s recent lack of restraint, they expected an attack. Sūnder worried about an ambush by darkhunters again, but the drive to the Eisenhower Banquet Hall was uneventful—if you didn’t count A’yrē telling a story and gesticulating so wildly that he almost gave Sūnder a black eye.
The Festival building was six stories high, with an exterior of honeycomb lattice-work all in white. There were ground level entrances, but the Festival was to be held on the rooftop. Six circular elevators suspended on cables rose three storeys into the air before entering stabilizing tubes that went nonstop to the top.
Their luxury hovercraft waited in line as heads of state, ambassadors, and other leaders stepped out onto the red carpet to make their way to the elevators.
“This is… interesting,” A’yrē said, looking out the side window.
“The crowds are as thick as when Sūnder and I first went to the embassy on our way to the Oberon,” Gabe commented, his eyes just as wide as A’yrē’s.
Sūnder shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Paulo, who looked as uneasy as Sūnder felt. Too many people. Too many possible avenues for ambush. If not for the political problems caused by the darkhunters’ attack, Sūnder would have gladly sat the Festival out. Before leaving, Sūnder had made it clear to Paulo to have twice the number of guards on Gabe than usual. Sūnder had no doubts about his ability to protect himself. He worried more about people assuming Gabe, smaller and outwardly human looking, was an easy target.
Eventually they halted at the curb in front of the red carpet.
“Everyone is in place,” Paulo announced, his index finger pressed lightly to his ear. Sūnder heard the same reports in his earpiece, but didn’t interfere with Paulo’s command. Tonight he was the protectee as much as a protector.
When the attendant opened the door, Paulo got out first, standing to block the view into the hovercraft’s interior. A’yrē touched the small of Paulo’s back, the signal he was ready. Turning, Paulo offered his arm to A’yrē and, in a rustle of green cloth, A’yrē exited.
The crowd cheered, calling A’yrē’s name, drowning out the questions from the various news personnel covering the Festival. A’yrē said nothing, only smiled and posed like a playboy prince before he stepped out of Sūnder’s view.
Nervous, Sūnder straightened his uniform. He’d always hated how the white material made his skin look lighter and not the normal dark gray of a Panthrÿn, highlighting the fact he didn’t share the same heritage as the rest of his family. He couldn’t help being born part dròw, but he was also part Panthrÿn too. Most people never seemed to remember that fact, too caught up in their fear of his faeborn heritage.
The revelations and events of the last couple of days had put a new perspective on who and what he was. Being with Gabe, listening to what Gabe had to say, and seeing himself through Gabe’s eyes shifted his mindset. He was faeborn. He didn’t need to change to set others at ease. Though Sūnder had never thought of himself as a monster, he had spent his life proving he wasn’t one. But Gabe saw him, all of him, and loved and accepted Sūnder just as he was. Additionally, Gabe was determined to bring faeborn out of the shadows, to shed light on the lies and bring about the truth, as terrible as the truth was, and whether Gabe realized it or not, he would revolutionize how Slorèx saw faeborn males, changing many other lives along with Sūnder’s.
When he finally emerged from the vehicle with Gabe at his side, confirming to the world that he and Gabe were together, he would stand proudly by Gabe’s side, not only as a Panthrÿn but, most importantly, as a faeborn male as well.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sūnder climbed out. The cheers renewed, gaining volume. He turned and offered his arm to Gabe. When Gabe stood next to Sūnder, the applause rose to a deafening level. He threaded his fingers through Gabe’s and watched with deep, abiding love as Gabe shone. His smile was clear and genuine as he took time to wave, and every few feet, Sūnder stopped with him so the crowd could take pictures. Sūnder knew they were a striking couple, him in his officer’s uniform and Gabe in his Hugo Boss.
He should have been searching the crowd for threats, but for the moment he left security in the hands of his knights and allowed himself to take everything about Gabe in. Gabe caught Sūnder staring. The corners of Gabe’s eyes crinkled as he gave a smile that belonged only to Sūnder. Unable to help himself, Sūnder swooped down to kiss Gabe. He’d not thought the crowd could get any louder, but they did.
The Festival security tensely ushered them quickly down the red carpet. People jostled for positions closer to the barricades, chanting Gabe’s and Sūnder’s names. Paulo and A’yrē awaited them next to an elevator.
Gabe kept looking back at the still screaming crowd. “Is it always like this wherever you go, A’yrē?”
Sūnder’s brother gave a rueful smile. “No, that insanity is all for you and Sūnder. The media has been running constant stories about the two of you, and Father’s attorneys have been fielding interview requests and questions. I told Father to hire a publicist, but you and Sūnder are going to have to give a statement or two. The humans are very excited about this romance between you and my brother.”
The glass elevator rose into the air, enabling Sūnder to see just how far the crowd extended. He’d never been to the Festival before, so he couldn’t gauge whether the overwhelming number of people was normal.
“I don’t think anyone anticipated the sheer amount of interest the public of Earth has in the two of you. Father asked that any questions the leaders have
wait until after the Festival. The organizers and the leaders have agreed to keep the focus on the Festival and the claimings, so you probably won’t be swarmed with too many questions, but do expect to answer a few. Since the Festival is closed to nonparticipants, the night should be relatively tame.”
“Holy crap.” Gabe sounded shocked. Sūnder put an arm around him when Gabe leaned into his side.
Protectiveness swelled within Sūnder. Hadn’t they had enough to deal with these last two weeks?
“Hey.”
He glanced down into Gabe’s too-knowing stare as the elevator emerged on the building’s roof.
“I will be fine. No, we—you and I together—will be fine. Okay?”
How could he not agree when Gabe said it like that? “You make me believe I can do anything,” Sūnder replied as the doors slid open and the music and murmuring of the crowd filled the elevator. But not before Sūnder heard someone make an odd noise. When he glanced at Paulo and A’yrē, his brother was rolling his eyes and Paulo was stoic-faced, leading A’yrē out behind them.
Somewhere, someone announced their names and ranks as they approached the stairs leading down to a dark-marbled floor. Hearing “Prince Consort Gabriel St. Baptista” gave Sūnder a deep thrill. Even the humans would know, without needing to use their weak sense of smell, that Gabe was his. Perhaps he puffed his chest out just a little bit at the thought. The wry twist of Gabe’s lips, as if he held back a laugh, told Sūnder the action didn’t go unnoticed.
“Sons!”
He turned to see King Valiant making his way over. Valiant wore an embroidered chiffon silk jacket in a vibrant green reminiscent of when spring turned to summer. The jacket had a high, stiff neck and fell to his knees over white pants, and his blond mane,tamed into cascading ringlets for the event, was held back by a simple ivory crown. His midnight-dark skin gleamed, as did Válora’s, who followed closely behind. Her white sheath blouse and matching pants were trimmed with green, accentuated by the knee-high, low heeled boots. Strings of emeralds were woven artfully through her mane.
High Druid Mèlindria, wearing an off-the-shoulder robe the same color as the violet outer ring of her irises, brought up the rear of their party. The old, knotted-wood staff she carried was capped with a large amber ball that held within it a single blue-veined leaf.
Sūnder barely kept from frowning suspiciously at Mèlindria. She wanted something from Gabe. Not knowing what, exactly, made Sūnder nervous. There was a reason the druids hadn’t left with the Guardians and faeborn when they fled; Sūnder’s reading during the last couple of days, and the tales Ronan had told him, made that clear. But what Sūnder didn’t know was which side of the war the druids fell on, and whether their intentions would harm either he or Gabe.
Putting his worry in the back seat, Sūnder greeted his father warmly. Valiant wrapped him up in a bear hug that lifted Sūnder off his feet and made a production of smelling Sūnder, but the gesture wasn’t mocking, only loving.
“My son has been claimed!” Valiant beamed, placing Sūnder back on his feet.
He heard Gabe mumble, “Jesus! Is everyone going to announce it every time they meet us?” Sūnder barely kept from laughing.
Válora smacked Valiant on the arm. “I told you so you wouldn’t put them on display. I should have known better. And you wonder where A’yrē’s deplorable behavior comes from.”
Valiant gave his sister a confused look. “What? Can I not express that I am overjoyed Gabe chose my son? That I am proud to now have three sons in my house?”
Sūnder could see his mother working up to a good lecture when Valiant surprised them all and hauled Gabe up into a bear hug too. When Gabe returned the embrace, Valiant’s eyes grew wide, then took on a look of gratitude Sūnder didn’t understand. Valiant set Gabe on his feet, holding him at arm’s length.
“You smell wonderful!” Valiant’s compliment caused Gabe’s skin to turn an even brighter shade of red. “Válora tells me that you are agreeable to carrying our surnames.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t understand why the two of you have accepted me so quickly into your family, but I would be proud to bear your names,” Gabe replied, his voice strong and steady.
“Excellent!” Valiant touched his nose, likely at the peppery scent of Gabe’s nervousness. “Much can be discerned by scent. Soon I shall sit down and explain it to you. For now though, please don’t call me ‘sir’. I hope that one day you will call me father, but until then, I am Valiant to you.”
Sūnder wound his tail around Gabe’s calf in reassurance as Gabe smiled tentatively at Valiant. “For now I’ll call you Valiant, and perhaps in the future, when I’m not reeling from all the changes, I have a feeling I’d like to call you father.”
“Then I shall wait for the day when the endearment rolls off your tongue,” Valiant rumbled.
Busy watching his mate and father interact, Sūnder didn’t notice Mèlindria move to stand close to him. “Princess Válora said you and Prince Consort Gabriel St. Baptista will be bringing many people back to Slorèx with you. I, for one, am overjoyed at the news, Prince Sūnder. We druids and rangers will back every decision you and your consort make when it comes to the Jade Forest.
Sūnder glanced around, worried about who might be near enough to overhear. But even if someone had, the way she’d worded the statement concealed the fact she spoke of the Earth-born guardians, faeborn, and green sentinels. At the mention of the Jade Forest, though, he pinned his gaze solely on her.
“Who says I shall have influence over land in E’drijān? Moreover, why would the druids and rangers care who comes with us? I have never seen nor heard druids contradict L’fÿns, especially pertaining to those who are like me, why start now?” Sūnder’s voice was low and harsh, even to his own ears. He glanced around again as he gathered his anger back into himself. Reassured he hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention, he turned back to her.
Mèlindria stared at him for a moment, her eyes unreadable. “I urge you to consider that perhaps we have not been idle, rather our deeds were not made public for all to see. When the time comes, all will be clear. Hold tight to your condemnation until then, before deciding I am worthy of it.”
“Come, Sūnder!” Valiant called. “There are many who wish to speak with us.”
With a parting warning glance at Mèlindria, Sūnder moved to follow his mother and father. Gabe was next to Valiant, being escorted by a hand on his shoulder. Sūnder listened to his security detail check in through his earpiece.
He searched the growing crowd. The Faelÿn sāchems, who made up the council representing Alglistán, were dressed in the traditional clothing of sheer material over beaded breastplates, and intricate headdresses. The five governing L’fÿn noble houses—Nellá, Chādee, Ölwuen, Fand, and Būkkës—stood off to the side, not so far away from the Faelÿn as to make their segregation apparent, but not mingling with their Faelÿn peers either.
Valiant directed Gabe and Sūnder toward the sāchems, introducing Gabe to the various Panthrÿn and L’fÿn governors of S’koylë and E’drijān on the way. Sūnder stood close enough to hear and comment when needed, but for the most part stood aside, warily eying the crowd and picking out his guards. He spotted several silverhands, including A’ymon.
There were only a handful of Faelÿn suitors, most of them female, but even if the whole body of people had been Faelÿn, Akirá Kaukèx would have still stood out among them. Dressed in the formal red paladin robes favored by the members of the Temple of the Stars, his regal bearing and sharp, glossy horns announced his ancient, royal bloodline. His white mane was woven into tiny, intricate braids, various beads and baubles dispersed throughout the weave.
Circling close by was Ronan, his gaze alert to Akirá’s every move, as if he were a predator on the hunt. Ronan wore green and black leather, garb much different from the other humans, who wore expensive tuxedos and elaborately bejeweled gowns. The only bit of jewelry Ronan wore was a paladin temple badge that matched the one on Aki
rá’s robe. If Sūnder were forced to name the attire, he would say it reminded him of armor, not formal wear. When Sūnder had said as much earlier, Ronan had given him a shark-like grin. “This is the uniform of the station I once held among my people. I was never allowed to wear it in public. Since I am no longer theirs, I shall wear it with pride.”
“Gabe, this is Dömini Koi of House Nellá.”
Sūnder’s attention snapped back to his father and mate, moving protectively closer to Gabe’s side as he was introduced to the L’fÿns of the noble house of Nellá. Gabe didn’t smile or offer his hand in greeting but eyed them as if deciding what to do with them. Dömini Koi didn’t meet Gabe’s gaze directly, his brow wrinkling as he inhaled. Sūnder wondered if the dömini was attempting to verify Gabe’s claim to the title of Prince Consort. When Koi inhaled again, deeper, longer, Sūnder got the impression Dömini Koi looked for something else. Or perhaps not. Realizing he’d let his imagination run away with him, Sūnder shook off his suspicions.
Nodding his head politely, Gabe acknowledged everyone as they were introduced. They all shifted nervously around him. Could they subconsciously sense Gabe was more than he seemed, that he came from a lost line of guardians? The thought made Sūnder uneasy. What might the noble houses do if they suspected Gabe’s L’fÿn blood?
He drew Gabe’s attention. “Will you dance with me?”
Gabe beamed, his stern, assessing expression immediately vanishing. “I would love to.”
Sūnder noticed with pride how many Faelÿn sirdārs, and Panthrÿn lords and ladies, turned to look again at Gabe as he led his mate past them to the dance floor.
Neither of them was particularly good at dancing; Sūnder laughed at Gabe’s low, frustrated curses as Gabe tripped over his own feet or stepped on Sūnder’s. He drew Gabe closer for a slow dance that didn’t require any intricate steps. Gabe made a noise in the back of his throat and laid his head on Sūnder’s chest.