The Impatient Lord Page 4

  “If you’re not looking for a husband, I could give my mouth away to you,” the man offered.

  Riona laughed. “Better gamblers have tried. Trust me, I’m the kind of trouble a man like you can’t handle.”

  “You are probably right, especially when you’re wearing a dress like that. See you on the return flight for a rematch.” He grinned and closed the maintenance hatch, leaving her alone on the primitive alien planet.

  Riona smiled. Charl’s mouth wasn’t his only tell. Once she trounced him on the return trip, she’d make sure he deleted Aeron’s and her name from Galaxy Brides’ database.

  The crew was doing a bio scan to make sure none of the brides had tried to get out of their duty by hiding on the ship. Even if she could have, Riona hadn’t wanted to stay onboard. There was too much fun to be had on a new planet. Besides, the idea of Aeron walking between two rows of sexy barbarian men intent on marriage was going to be something worth seeing. Just the idea made Riona laugh.

  To blend in with the other women while waiting for her private exit, Riona had to dress like potential brides in the fine gauze and silk of the traditional Qurilixian gown. The slinky material stirred against her body when she moved, hugging her hips as the skirt flowed around her legs in thin strips. The shoes were soft, almost too soft for walking on the unpaved ground. Running on the local terrain would be hard, not that she had any intention of making a go for the nearby forest. Luckily, it was warm, because the gown’s bodice had been cut low to make the most of her breasts without showing her nipples. Normally, she wasn’t one for wearing dresses, but the gown didn’t bother her. Riona liked disguises.

  What she didn’t like very much was the way arm straps stretched across her back like long cuffs to keep her wrists tied together. The straps were secured by the way they wound up her forearms and fastened over her elbows. She had enough freedom of movement to reach in front of her, but she couldn’t lift her arms over her head and if she tried to strike out, the silken chains would stop her.

  Dusk claimed the small planet, turning the earth into a dark and brilliant red. Apparently, this world only had one night of darkness a year, which made the Breeding Festival special. But she’d heard of stranger customs than only allowing marriages to happen in the dark by the light of a glowing crystal.

  Riona found it easy to get her bearings as the ship faced a valley filled with pyramid-shaped tents decorated with waving banners. A single large moon shone overhead. Bonfires cast light over the valley, seeming to set it on fire. She loved the earthy primitiveness of it.

  Grinning mischievously to no one in particular as she was alone, Riona began to dance to the distant music, hidden by the shadows of the ship. Tonight was going to be so much fun.

  * * *

  “Tonight is a serious matter,” Elder Bochman stated. It was his usual speech, one Mirek had had the unhappy pleasure of memorizing. “For those of you fortunate enough to be blessed with a bride, it will be one of the hardest nights of your life.”

  At the reference to hard, a few of the men chuckled. Bochman arched a brow until they quieted their juvenile reaction.

  “We are the Draig,” Bochman said. He let his eyes shift with the gold of his dragon form to give the statement more meaning. “We are strong. We are brave. We act on instinct. Put a battle before us, and we will fight it. Put a traitorous Var in front of us, and we will kill him like the stinking cat shifter he is. No one doubts your bravery, my fellow Draig, but tonight you will be tested beyond all limits. You must fight your instincts, fight your innermost desires and abstain from claiming the one thing you will want more than any other thing in your life.”

  The potential grooms gave a gruff cheer. Mirek lowered his eyes to the ground. Absently, he touched the sacred crystal hanging around his neck. On the day he was born, his father had journeyed to Crystal Lake, dove beneath the waves and pulled the stone he now wore from the lakebed. Mirek, like all Draig, had worn the crystal ever since. But it wasn’t just a custom. It was how they received the will of the gods. When he saw his bride, the crystal would glow, signifying his destiny.

  The men cheered louder, drawing Mirek’s eyes back up. He knew they were excited, but he could hardly be expected to cheer for a night that would undoubtedly prove fruitless.

  As the grooms were directed to make their way to the receiving lines, Mirek followed his oldest brother, Bron, toward the side of the festival grounds. The familiar music and laughter of his people sounded behind him. Married couples watched on as those too young to participate posed and shouted behind the grooms.

  As was tradition, he wore a loincloth, a gold band around his biceps, a black leather mask to hide his face from forehead to upper lip and the sacred crystal necklace. Though they teased, his people were hardly ashamed of the naked form. Unlike the grooms, the onlookers wore the more commonplace tunic.

  The grooms stopped, forming two lines as they faced each other. The brides would walk between them for the pairings. Mirek took his place and waited.

  Perhaps this year would be different. Perhaps this would be the year they all found brides. Mirek hated hope, and yet here he was feeling it. Bonfires cast the area into stark relief, but he didn’t need the firelight to see. As a shifter, his eyes could easily pick out the brides waiting within the open mouth of the Galaxy Brides luxury ship. He focused on each woman, waiting for a spark to snap inside of him, some hint that he would be lucky. Nothing happened.

  “I would rather face battle,” Mirek said to Bron. “This anticipation is torture.”

  Bron nodded in agreement. “I cannot believe our little brother does not have to stand in even one of these greeting lines. It is almost laughable that Vladan found his wife before his first ceremony started, and here we are again.”

  “Aye,” Mirek answered, chuckling though he felt no humor.

  Before the ceremony, the king had ordered they be presented to a marriageable daughter of a friend of an alien dignitary. Apparently, Lady Clara of the Redding was above attending their primitive festival and refused to marry beneath her station. She’d barely even acknowledged them, showing absolutely no emotion on her face. In fact, when Vlad’s crystal had glowed, she’d merely nodded, turned her back on them and left the tent. Mirek would never say it out loud, but he was glad Clara was not meant to be his bride, and he felt sorry for Vlad.

  Mirek continued, “I do not envy him that bride. I only hope that was paint on her body and not her true flesh. She will scare the children and deliver them into nightmares.”

  “I did not see the paint. I was too busy staring at her head. Do you think that tower of hair hides a skull beneath it?” Bron asked.

  “Our nephews will be born with skulls the shape of pyramids.” Mirek was hardly concerned. It would be unfortunate if the only heirs to his family line were deformed in such a way, but he knew he shouldn’t question the judgment of the gods—especially on this night.

  His brother kept talking, and Mirek automatically answered, though he did not pay attention to what was said. The women had begun to make their way from the ship toward them. That thin thread of hope tried to surface inside him when the first one stepped forward. He studied the female faces as they moved past, and with each opportunity he felt absolutely nothing. No stirring inside him. No connection. No piercing need to claim one of them as his own. Sure, they were pretty, and he’d gladly spend the night in their beds enjoying physical pursuits, but there was nothing to indicate they were his mate. Then, as the last bride made her way through the line, he looked down to his chest to see his crystal resting dormant against his flesh. He was not blessed.

  The ache that swelled within him was almost too much to bear. It started in his chest and radiated from his heart into the rest of him. Tension gathered along the back of his neck and shoulders. The world became dull and bleak. It had happened again. What had he done to deserve such treatment from the gods? He worked hard. He did his duty to his people. He lived a fair and just life. He fought against
the Var whenever his uncle, the king, commanded it of him. What more could he do?

  What more could he do?

  What more can I do?

  Mirek swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, resisting the urge to scream. There was nothing more he could do. He was cursed to be alone.

  Seeing the grooms beginning to move from their lines, he glanced at Bron. His brother’s crystal glowed, pulsing with light. He quickly turned his attention to the far end of the line where Alek waited. He too had a glowing crystal. A quick assessment told him that his four prince cousins were also so blessed. Four cousins, all three brothers, all blessed. Mirek was the only one without a mate. The only one.

  Alone.

  What more could I have done?

  The lump came back, this time to settle permanently in his chest. He had to be happy for his family, and he would be…eventually. But right now, in this moment of supreme disappointment, he could barely muster the smile he needed to congratulate all of them on their good fortune. It was one thing to be alone together, but now in light of his brothers’ good fortune, Mirek was really and truly alone.

  Why do the gods deny me? What more could I have done?

  * * *

  Riona waited for the first of the brides to walk by her hiding spot before slipping into line to go to the feast set out on a raised platform. It had been easy to walk through the festival grounds while everyone’s attention had been diverted toward the visiting ship. Riona was only too glad to avoid the mating part of the ceremony. The last thing she wanted was some barbarian taking a liking to her, especially when she got a closer look at them. Bronzed warriors with the bodies of genetically enhanced soldiers weren’t exactly the most manageable type. Guys like Charl, she could manipulate because there was absolutely no attraction on her part. And if manipulation didn’t work, she could take them in a fight. But these barbarians? Trained warriors who’d probably come by their talents completely naturally? No, thank you. It was best to avoid trouble before it started.

  How strange life was. She should have been enjoying her fifty-thousand space credits. Instead, she was deep in debt, hiding out on a primitive planet…with her sister. Her sister.

  Riona gave a short laugh. Aeron on this planet was worth seeing. Her tidy, uptight sister would probably run back to the ship screaming. She just wished the sight wasn’t costing her fifty-thousand space credits.

  Fifty-thousand. Where in the galaxy was she going to find that kind of money? Her laugh faded into a frown. Not that she’d let on, but she was in some serious trouble. When word got out that she’d reneged on her bet to Range—and he would make sure everyone heard about it—she wouldn’t be trusted on any jobs. Her credit was shot. Without high-dollar games or any somewhat legitimate work, she wouldn’t be able to get her cash up.

  The sound of music and cheering drew her from her thoughts. Riona wasn’t one to dwell on what couldn’t be changed. Seeing her home world explode had been a hard lesson, and after that nothing else had really compared.

  Riona liked these alien people. They seemed wholesome. Not many planets would turn their backs on scientific and technological advancements.

  Seeing her sister in the procession of brides, her head down and her steps short and stunted, Riona laughed. Aeron looked absolutely mortified. Riona wondered if her sister had even seen a half-naked male in the flesh, so to speak. Aeron had spent all her time stuck in a small room looking at uploads, keeping herself isolated from other life forms. In a way, Riona understood it. Aeron chose to isolate herself to keep from getting too close to anyone. It was a way of protecting herself from the pain of what had happened. Riona chose to do the opposite, surrounding herself with life and distractions to keep from thinking about such things. Life was hard and brutal and unfair, and she was going to squeeze every ounce of pleasure from it she could before it killed her. The only way to ensure she lived was to make herself feel alive. Otherwise, she was nothing and had nothing, and that emptiness would fill her until she choked on it.

  The crowd quieted. Seeing the veil over Aeron’s upswept black hair, Riona frowned. She’d forgotten to wear her short veil. Hopefully, no one would notice. A servant moved by the table with a pitcher of wine. Riona held out her goblet for him to fill.

  “What is it?” she asked him.

  The man grinned. “Maiden’s Last Breath.”

  Riona tossed back her head and laughed. “Ha! That is priceless. I love this place.”

  Seeing her good humor, the man’s grin widened. He motioned toward the food laid out in trenchers along the wooden table. “Eat. Drink. You are most welcome, my lady.”

  Not one to turn down a free meal, Riona helped herself to the roasted two-horned pig meat and Qurilixian blue bread with whipped cheese. The wine tasted sweet, almost too sweet, but with a name like Maiden’s Last Breath, she couldn’t resist partaking of it. Other than the sweetness, she actually liked the alien food. Real food had more flavor than the stuff that came out of a simulator.

  Riona thoroughly enjoyed herself. The brides whispered and giggled as they filled the table and joined in the feasting. Some flirted with the handsome servants. The belt that held her wrists down made maneuvering hard. She let one of the servants place food in her mouth when she was unable to reach across the table for herself.

  The low, euphoric rhythm of music wound over her senses. The Draig knew how to celebrate—food, liquor, bonfires, half-naked men. When the handsome grooms appeared to claim their brides, their chosen women obeyed with little protest. Riona didn’t understand it. Okay, so in theory she understood the desire to be with one man for the rest of her life, but she didn’t get how these women could simply choose a guy based on a glowing crystal and a two-second evaluation. They didn’t know anything about their new partners. The grooms could be the rumored princes of the planet or servants or farmers or soldiers. They could be psychotic, or liars, or cheaters, or pirates. They could be diseased, or abusers, or into some really strange sexual practices. And the grooms had no way of knowing what kind of crazy they were apt to marry when they took the alien brides. So much blind faith. So many arranged marriages.

  The last of the men came to the table. Instead of choosing a bride, he walked the length only to stop in front of Aeron. His crystal necklace glowed brilliantly, more so when he was near Riona’s sister. Aeron and this man? No. It couldn’t be. Aeron knew the price of finding someone to physically mate with. Playing and flirting was one thing, but it wasn’t Aeron’s thing. Riona’s smile faltered a little before she caught herself. She forced a laugh she didn’t feel, waiting for Aeron to send the man away.

  Aeron would send the man away, wouldn’t she?

  The man touched Aeron’s cheek and urged her to follow him. Riona’s eyes met her sister’s. If Aeron so much as blinked in hesitation, Riona would jump over the table and save her. Her body tensed, ready. Riona forced a bigger smile and pretended to laugh at something the woman next to her said. Her smile faded as Aeron disappeared down an earthen path toward the tents. A servant came to her, trying to engage her in conversation. Riona frowned at him, waving him away.

  She stared into the distance, waiting for Aeron to reappear. She didn’t.

  Well played, Aeron, making me think you’d get married. Ha, ha. Joke’s over. Come back now. Riona swallowed, silently willing her sister to her. Come back. You got your payback for me not telling you about the ship being a bridal one. Any second now…

  “My ladies, we thank you for your attendance,” a woman announced. If the man waiting behind her was any indication, she was one of the married natives. “Please, enjoy the celebration and be on the Galaxy Brides ship by the rising of the sun.”

  A few of the women immediately went to board the ship. One woman started to cry at her bad luck. Riona numbly stood, not feeling much like celebrating. Her sister had chosen a man.

  As she made her way through the campground, staying along the edges of the festival, Riona passed a few of the unmated grooms.
Fur loincloths clung to masculine hips. Golden bands of intricate design clasped around sinewy biceps. From their solid necks hung crystals bound with leather straps. Firelight glistened on their oiled bodies. The Qurilixian males were every inch the proud warrior class they were rumored to be, some even seemed to tower nearly seven feet tall in height. She could see the appeal, but to marry one? To give up a long life for a night of passion?

  “Don’t do it, Aeron,” Riona whispered, unsure which tent her sister had disappeared into. For all their fighting, Riona didn’t wish her sister dead. “Don’t leave me to spend an eternity alone in this universe.”

  Chapter Three

  Dawn came in a soft green haze of diffused light. Riona had watched most of the night for her sister to embark on the Galaxy Brides ship. Aeron hadn’t gotten on. Now, as the ship’s crew made the last calls for boarding, Riona had a decision to make. She could take her one and only ride off the planet, or she could find Aeron. Her sister had asked only for a way to Qurilixen, nothing more. Riona could technically leave with a clear conscience.

  She watched the docking plank lift and heard the engines engage. Soon, the ship broke atmosphere and Riona still stood on the red earth of the primitive planet. There was no decision to make. Aeron was her sister. Asked for or not, Riona was going to help her.

  During the night, she’d ripped the straps holding her arms. In the end, she’d decided the gown really was a nuisance. It didn’t allow her to blend with the crowd, considering everyone she saw was in the traditional tunic attire of the Qurilixian people. As she’d made her way around the edge of the campsite, she’d received curious stares. Riona had walked with purpose, hoping if she pretended to know what she was doing no one would question her presence.

  The dining platform from the night before had been dismantled, and now a low stage was in its place. A royal couple presided over the crowd in matching purple clothes in the middle of the stage. The crowns gave away their rank. Riona looked at the jewelry, wishing she was that kind of skilled thief. In the right market, she could get several thousand for them. If Aeron was right and they saved this world, maybe they could collect a reward. That would go a long way to helping her make good on her debt.