by Lynn Tyler
Varin leaned easily against the wall next to him, appearing far more relaxed now that their tension had been broken. He still would like to have known what had upset Varin’s balance so much, but he knew that his consort would tell him in his own time.
They stood side by side, nodding and making occasional conversation with those humans who were brave enough to approach them. Varin began fidgeting again as the time for the president’s daughter to sign the registry neared. There was no sign of her, but they had been assured and reassured that she was, indeed, going to sign the registry.
The crowd turned as one and stared at the beautiful woman who stood framed in the door. She was tall compared to any female he’d met, perhaps a couple of inches under six feet. She had long auburn hair, falling in gentle waves halfway down her back. She was on the heavier side, if one went by this world’s standards. On his world, however, she was the ideal woman. Soft and curvy, she had large breasts and rounded hips, perfect for carrying and nursing children. She wore a dark-blue gown that complimented both her hair and her ivory skin. Physically, she was perfect in every way. But he wanted more than just a physical relationship with the woman he and Varin would take to mate.
He turned to his consort to share his opinion and got the shock of his life. Varin, who had never before shown even a passing interest in the opposite sex, was staring at her hungrily. The man’s eyes were trained on her, and he was growling softly, the same growl Varin tended to emit when someone approached D’Arik for no reason other than to flirt.
D’Arik’s mind started to race again. Could this woman, this beautiful creature, be the reason Varin had been acting so strange? He reached out through his mate bond and nearly staggered with the force of desire, lust, and guilt. Flicking his eyes downward, he noted the bulge that was straining Varin’s leather pants, and his own pants tightened.
D’Arik was confused at what he felt from Varin, though. D’Arik could understand Varin’s feelings of desire and lust, but he couldn’t quite figure out the reason behind Varin’s guilt. Did Varin think D’Arik would love him any less if Varin desired, or perhaps even loved, another?
He ached to take his consort in his arms and soothe away the guilt, but it was just not possible in this situation. Already, they were standing far closer together than a king and his head of security typically would, and they were beginning to draw stares from others. Not that D’Arik minded the stares. On his own planet, he wouldn’t give a flying fuck who stared. He was proud to have Varin by his side as both his consort and his mate. Here, on the other hand, they had to be careful with how much affection they showed, which pissed him off to no end. Varin already only allowed so little physical affection in public that he found the need to limit himself even more maddening. But he wanted to make sure that these humans wouldn’t back away from their fairly easy agreement with them, and to do that, D’Arik would project the image that they wanted to see. Which meant no male consort.
But he could still have some fun. He leaned close to Varin’s ear and murmured in it. “Who is she?” He watched with glee as the goose bumps rose all along Varin’s skin. Varin’s ears were particularly sensitive. All D’Arik had to do was blow gently into one, and the other man would be all over him.
“Quit it, brat,” Varin murmured back, not looking at him. Apparently Varin knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t pull back if he turned in his direction.
D’Arik leaned closer, trying to look as if he was having a casual, quiet conversation with his head of security instead of trying to seduce him. “She’s quite beautiful,” he said, watching the small shiver rack Varin’s body as the other man fought to control his arousal.
Varin stepped away from him and sent him a quelling look. At any other time, D’Arik would have pouted at the loss of Varin’s body heat, but he did have some sense of decorum. Or at least he could act like he had some sense of decorum. “Yes, she is beautiful,” Varin answered. “She is also the daughter of the President of the United States.”
Ah. So this was Jacy Townsend. She would be the first female on the planet to sign the registry, more as a symbol than anything else, though her father had made it clear that she was to be considered as a potential mate just as any other woman on Earth would be considered.
Before he could say anything else, or before he could step closer to Varin, the announcer, or the master of ceremonies, as the president had put it, called out for the attention of the assembled crowd. As one, the gathered people quieted and turned their rapt attention to the podium, where a large, leather-bound book lay open at the first page.
“Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests,” the master of ceremonies said, dipping his head respectfully toward them, “it gives me great pleasure to announce Miss Jacy Townsend, who will now sign the Registry of Females.”
D’Arik couldn’t help but feel as if was in some kind of auction as the president escorted his daughter across the stage, as if presenting her to a bunch of prospective buyers. Which he was, in a way. D’Arik forced down a burst of hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble up. Gods, they really were stooping this low.
Varin obviously felt his distress through their mate bond because he broke his own rule and touched him very gently on the wrist. The simple touch calmed him like nothing else could, and he was able to watch the woman sign the registry without any more breakdowns.
Immediately after the signing, dinner was served and D’Arik found himself sitting next to the president at the head table. Several kings, queens, and heads of state dined with them, but D’Arik couldn’t keep his gaze off Jacy, nor could he ignore the rising feelings of possessiveness for the female from increasing. He suspected much of the feelings were coming from Varin, being transmitted through their mate bond, but his own desire to protect the green-eyed beauty was fast reaching Varin’s match.
Varin had gone back to fidgeting restlessly at D’Arik’s side. D’Arik still couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly what was bothering Varin, but he could definitely tell it had something to do with Jacy.
He pushed against their bond a little harder and pierced through the shields that Varin had forced up. What he saw of Varin’s emotions shocked him to his core. Varin had fallen hard for Jacy, and he longed to be with her. He would choose her given the chance. But he didn’t think he would ever get that chance since it would be D’Arik, as the high king, who would make the choice for the both of them, and he mourned the loss of something he thought he’d never have.
D’Arik swallowed hard, feeling the lump that had formed move up and down with the action. He had never felt so bad about choosing Varin against his will before. He had known that Varin had desired him for years. He’d assumed that once they’d settled into their mating, Varin would be happy with the decision. And it had seemed that he had settled into their mating well. Until very recently, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. Their bond was strong. He had been protective and possessive right from the start. Essentially, Varin had given every indication that he’d been happy with being the royal consort.
And yet now there was a longing for something he thought he couldn’t have. D’Arik could give him what he wanted, though. If that one human woman was the key to Varin’s lasting happiness, then D’Arik would make it happen. And as the high king, D’Arik had to choose a female first. He had hoped to search a little, to find someone both he and Varin had something in common with, but if choosing this woman made Varin happy, then that’s what he would do. And if truth be told, the beautiful woman throwing him furious looks fascinated him.
The president’s nasal-toned voice grated on his nerves as he spoke to Varin. “When do you believe your ships will be here to start the choosing?” D’Arik nearly rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what the president was asking. When would the people of Earth receive the medicine, agriculture technology, and protection that had been promised them?
From a leader’s perspective, D’Arik could well understand the haste these men
must have felt for what had been promised them. Every minute they didn’t have the Helans’ advanced technology, peopled died from disease and starvation. And obviously, they had decided to take the prediction of other species discovering them as fact and were eager for the protection of the Helan fleet.
Irritation flowed from Varin to D’Arik through their bond, and D’Arik was impressed when Varin was able to remain polite. “High King D’Arik must choose his mate before any other Helan, as you can imagine. As a symbol of faith, however, arrangements are being made to distribute the medicines and technology around the Earth by morning.”
The man smiled from ear to ear and leaned over to his daughter. “Perhaps you will be lucky enough to be chosen, Jacy.”
The woman in question did not bother to repress her urge to roll her eyes, and she mumbled something under her breath, which sounded suspiciously like a reference to an ancient Earth people and their cave-dwelling ways.
A quick glance at Varin’s face and D’Arik could see his mouth twitch and eyes sparkle with amusement. That sealed the deal. He would choose Jacy, and he would do it tonight. “If my head of security and I may have a word in private with you, President Townsend?”
They quickly found themselves ensconced in a quiet room, which D’Arik assumed was the man’s office. “What can I do for you gentlemen?” the president said eagerly.
Varin growled and strode to the president until he was just a scant inch away from the other man’s nose. “You will address the high king as Your Majesty, as is his due.”
President Townsend gulped and backed away. Varin smirked at the show of weakness and moved back to stand slightly behind D’Arik. “How can I be of service to Your Majesty?” the president repeated meekly.
D’Arik wondered if the human needed to change his underwear. Varin could be damned intimidated sometimes. But now was not the time to think about how intimidating his consort could be, or how damned much it turned him on. “I have already decided who I’m going to choose. Please have your daughter pack whatever is of sentimental value to her. I will provide whatever else she needs.”
The president’s jaw dropped open unflatteringly. “You want to choose Jacy?”
“Yes. Now please do what I have asked.” D’Arik didn’t bother to hide his derisive smirk as the president left the room to tell his daughter that she had the dubious distinction of being the first human woman chosen to mate. That man really got on his nerves.
He could feel the shock rolling off his consort and turned to him. Varin, not one to ever be caught off guard for anything, seemed to be speechless. When he finally did speak, his voice was lower than normal. “D’Arik, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
D’Arik’s smirk melted into a genuine smile. The fact that Varin had actually called him by his first name instead of his title while they were in public was telling. He had shaken the larger man to the very core. That alone reaffirmed his decision to take Jacy Townsend to mate.
Ignoring the risk of getting caught, he cupped Varin’s cheek in his palm. The whiskers growing on Varin’s face tickled his hand slightly and reminded him of what the rough chin scraping along the sensitive skin of his neck did to him. “Yes, liro, I’m sure.” He didn’t elaborate on his reasoning, though. If Varin ever thought that D’Arik was choosing Jacy just to please him, he would not be a happy man. When Varin was unhappy, he tended to deny D’Arik in bed. And that was no fun for anyone.
Chapter 8
Jacy glanced at her father as he made his way back into the reception hall. He moved with a purposeful stride and was regrettably heading right for her. She rifled through her memories of the last few hours for something that she had done that could warranted a lecture. Unfortunately, there were quite a few things she could think of, but unless her father had had her room bugged and her phone tapped in the last twenty-four hours, there was nothing he could know about.
He stopped at her chair and stared down at her with an unreadable expression. Well, crap, that was a bad sign. The worst lectures always came when she couldn’t read his expression. “Jacy, please follow me.”
She stood, scraping her chair loudly across the floor as she pushed it back. The sound was loud to her ear, almost as if it was amplified, but no one looked at her. Perhaps the implant that barbarian Varin, as she had taken to think about the huge warrior once she had come back to her senses this morning, was affecting her brain in more ways than one. Or perhaps it was just nerves.
Jacy followed her father out into the hall, practically jogging to keep up with him as he moved toward the first family living quarters. She prayed to whoever may have been listening that her father hadn’t found out about the covert movement she had helped set up.
When she had woken that fateful morning and learned of the bargain that had been struck between the aliens and the world leaders, the indignity of her situation had hit her like a ton of bricks. Her entire sex was being used as a bartering tool, as if they were nothing more than mindless cattle. She had honestly thought they, as a society, had moved past this, but things seemed to have reverted back to medieval times, when women were thought to be as valuable as the number of cows their fathers could trade for them. She had been sympathetic with their situation, had even wondered if breeding with human females would help out. She was always up for an adventure and probably would have volunteered to become a surrogate mother herself if it would have helped. But instead of asking for their help, they had camouflaged their demands with offers too good to refuse. And of course, the male leaders of the world had jumped at the offers. After all, it wouldn’t be them who would be traded away like a possession.
The more she had thought about it, the angrier she had gotten, but she hadn’t really been sure whom she had been angrier at, her world leaders, her father chief among them, for bartering their freedom away, or the aliens.
She had paced the room in the early-morning hours and began plotting. Varin, the pig, had been right. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if thousands died because she refused to sign the stupid registry and the Helans withdrew their offer of medicine, technology, and protection. But neither would she be able to sleep at night if she led thousands of women into a life of servitude and sexual slavery. So she had made a few calls and had wired as much of her savings as she could to certain people. Within hours, hundreds of women were fleeing to the hills and mountains that were spread out over the continent.
Her heels tapped on the floor as she rushed to keep up with her father, even as her mind raced. She didn’t have much hope that the women who managed to escape would be able to hide out for long, but any minute of freedom she was able to give them was one longer than they had had before.
Her father stopped in front of her room and gestured for her to go inside. A maid was laying out a number of suitcases on the bed, and a sickening feeling welled in her stomach. Suddenly she wasn’t very afraid about being lectured for setting up a rebellion. “High King D’Arik has made his choice, and he has chosen you. He has ordered for you to pack your sentimental possessions and said that you will be provided with whatever you need when you get to his spaceship.
A hysterical burst of laughter bubbled up in her throat at her father saying the term “spaceship.” Just days ago, he would have scoffed at the term. Now he was using it as if it were normal.
She shook her head, trying to clear the ridiculous notion from her mind. She had far more to be worried about than her father’s use of words. Like cracking up mentally. She was sure her father had just informed her that she had been chosen by the alien king. She knew she was staring at him dumbly, but she couldn’t work out what he was saying to her. “Do you mind repeating that?”
The president sighed and gestured to the suitcases now lying open on the mattress. “High King D’Arik has chosen you as his mate,” he said slowly, as if he were explaining the situation to a three-year-old. “He has ordered that you pack. I assume you will go back to his spaceship with him as soon as you’r
e ready.”
Her blood boiled. It wasn’t enough that she had to be the symbol of everything wrong with this situation by being forced to be the first to sign the registry. No, now she was also the first to be chosen. “Where is he?” she said through gritted teeth.
Her father must have been afraid by the look on her face, which she could only imagine was particularly fearsome. “My office,” he mumbled without hesitation.
She stormed her way to the office she had left last night with a new translator lodged somewhere in her brain and slammed the door open. She had a glimpse of Varin jumping in front of the king before pushing her way past him. “You,” she shrieked, poking the blond man in the chest with her index finger. “What do you think you’re playing at?”
The king gripped her finger gently and pulled it to his mouth, sucking the tip in and swirling his tongue around it lightly. Her heart began pounding for a different reason, and she silently cursed herself as heat pooled in her belly. She absolutely could not be getting turned on by this son of a bitch. “Oh, lira, you are delightful,” he murmured in his own language. Thanks to the implant, she had no trouble interpreting the words, jerking slightly as the translation for the Helan endearment came back as dear one. “We will have many amusing conversations together, I can see.”
Well, that threw her a little. Conversations? Was that a euphemism for sex on their planet? Whatever.
She shrieked once more in frustration and stomped her way back to her room, hitting the walls and banging on every door she came across. It was completely childish of her, and she would have been ashamed of her behavior if she hadn’t been so angry and felt so helpless. There really wasn’t anything she could do about her situation anymore since she had failed to make her own escape. The only hope she had left was that the funds she had transferred to the evacuation would be used wisely and that not one single woman who didn’t want to be forced into a relationship with these aliens would be sheltered.