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“Did you make it up? Because it makes no sense that I can’t see you on the day of our mating ceremony!”
A male separated from his female on what should be a joyous day of non-stop sex? Preposterous.
More laughter is my only reply.
“I should be fucking you senseless as we speak,” I growl.
“It’s not made up.”
“And what other absurd traditions does today have in store for me?” I lean my forehead against the cool metal door panel.
“I’m going to walk down the aisle with a bouquet of flowers.”
“What aisle?”
“An aisle! A path through the audience!”
“Okay . . . Random. What else?”
“Lalo made me a veil to wear.”
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and pray to the spirit.
“A veil?” I repeat. “To cover you up?”
I swear the people of Earth must hate life’s most simple joys, like looking upon one’s beautiful mate.
“Originally that was the purpose, but no. It’s more like a hair accessory.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “I look forward to seeing you in all your glory,ti kaia.”
“On the subject of wedding traditions that I wasn’t anticipating . . .” Her tone has lost its humor. “My nipples are going to be exposed to everyone you know.”
“You will look so beautiful.”
“You need to leave now,” she says in a false honeyed tone. “Goodbye, hubby! See you at the altar!”
I grumble my agreement and stalk down the hallway toward Mak’s apartments. I’m not sure I want to know what hubby means, but I suppose her people get married on a religious altar.
“Ah, the lucky male himself,” Mak cries with his arms out in welcome when I stomp into his receiving room.
It’s meant to be a throne room, and the young king does occupy the ornate stone seat. But that is where the formalities end. His warriors are scattered around the room, drinking and laughing as they prepare for the event of the day. There are a few tables with trays of food and bottles of spirits. A few of his soldiers are even attempting to practice their instruments, but right now they sound quite rusty.
I climb the steps leading to Mak’s perch. His loyalkaialays not far off with her belly up and her legs in the air, napping.
“Why are you looking so glum? Do you know what all of us would do just to trigger the mating call and have our own celebrations today?”
“I’ve been barred access to my own mate because of some Earth tradition,” I complain.
“Have a drink. Relax. We’ll be going to have your powders done in less than an interval anyways. You’ve all night to rut on your mate like an animal, so spare me the dramatics.”
I take the glass he offered. He always has the finest liquor, and today is no exception. I throw back the black liquid and it burns in my throat.
“Kalla should be here,” I say hoarsely, handing the glass back to Mak.
“You’re supposed to sip that,” he tells me, brows quirking up. “And yes, I wish he were, but this mission is important. We need to know what’s going on with the Azza invasion on Kar’Kal. The whole affair has been bathed in mystery. We of all people should be the ones who understand the status of our own planet.”
“Our own planet,” I mutter under my breath, ready to make a comment about how it hasn’t been “our” planet for generations. But then I remember that I am trying to be positive and support Mak, even if I don’t necessarily agree with his lofty goals.
