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"Only a minute?"
Caressing my breast, Luther smirked as I arched into his hand. "How long do you think it takes a starving Avalonian to eat?"
"Oh, well, we have less than a minute, so I hope you're ready."
In answer, Luther shoved forward, taking no time to raise my heart rate. The force of his thrusts moved us along the floor until my head hit the wall. "Luther!" I cringed breathlessly, my hands going overhead to hold against the wall. Cursing, Luther supported my neck to prevent me from being injured as he pounded me into the oblivion of ecstasy.
Picking up speed and force, Luther roared as he spent himself, then stilled and shook as he breathed hard. Eventually, he smiled at me. "I am always ready for you, Zira." Then, lowering his body, he kissed me a lot slower this time.
ChapterTwenty-Three
By the time Luther sealed his uniform again, my companion was gone, and the prince returned. As I sat up, rolling my neck and cringing a bit, I decided sex on the floor with a Cyran was not the healthiest option. Picking up my slip, Luther handed it to me as he helped me to stand again. "Why is the blueprint wrong?"
Stopping momentarily to look over my already changing body, I cupped my womb.
"Zira?"
Blinking up at him, I realized he was back in planning mode and forced myself to pay attention while I stepped into the slip. "Oh, it's missing the throne room."
Wiping his hand through the display, Luther made it grow to be three-dimensional. "No, the throne room is here." Luther pointed to a large area.
"That's the public throne room, but it's not the 'throne’room." Stepped into my dress, I slipped my arm into the sleeve before I pointed to an empty spot. "This is where the throne that matters is. This is where I need to be."
"Finish getting dressed." Then, moving to the doors, Luther threw them open angrily as I pulled my other sleeve into place. "Everyone in, now!"
Just as I touched the tab to seal my dress, Commander Stark and my Uncle stepped into the room. "Tell them," Luther ordered.
"This blank area in your map, it's not empty. This is the true throne room, the one the public never gets to see. It's where the blood throne sits and is where I need to get to if I'm to secure the throne."
My uncle stepped forward, confused momentarily. Studying where I was pointing, Ravid turned to Luther. "Your kind have methods of inquisition, one being the dragging of memories." Luther just glared at Ravid. "Use it on Zira," my uncle suggested.
Double blinking in surprise, I stepped back, not liking the sound of this. Taking my hand to stop me from fleeing, Luther raised his voice. "Anberon?"
"Yes, my Prince."
"Bring in the visualizer." Taking a firmer grip on my wrist, Luther ran his finger along my jaw until his thumb swept over my lips. "It will not hurt you, Zira. You merely have to remember being shown this room, and it will capture the experience for us." Hugging me to his chest, he kissed the corner of my mouth, then pinched my bottom lip between his. When he pulled back, he met my eyes. The trust he was showing in that action tugged at my soul. "Trust me, I would never harm you." What he gave, he asked for in return.
Nodding my head, I shifted Luther's grip on me to hold his hand. Dropping one more kiss on my lips, Luther led me to the desk and his chair as Anberon came in and set down a device. Connecting some leads to the wall unit, Anberon pressed a switch, and the top of the pad glowed green.
Turning to the wall unit, Luther touched a setting on the screen, and it went blank. Taking my hand, Luther placed it gently on the green light. When Anberon pressed another switch, my hand sunk into the coldest gel. I would have withdrawn my hand, but Luther held it in place. Picking up something similar to the medic’s monitor but transparent, Anberon placed it over my eyes.
Instantly, the screen filled with the image of Luther as we coupled moments earlier. Luther coughed. "Concentrate, Zira. Show us the room with the blood throne."
Closing my eyes, I remembered the day I was taken to the actual throne when I was ten. My uncle, the king's voice, suddenly filled the room. "Before your coronation, Zimri, you will come here with the elders and your sister." The King opened the door to the blood throne room. When he turned to scowl at me, my mind instantly flashed to his severed head upon the blood-drenched public throne room floor. A sob escaped my throat.
A hand touched my shoulder and started massaging gently. "The blood throne, Zira," Luther encouraged gently.
Stepping into the gleaming silver room behind my brother, I looked around in awe. The sapphire blue waters of our ocean ran through a channel in the middle of the room, disappearing through a magnificent arched window level with the sea outside. On the other side stood a grand, dark grey stone throne. On this side, sitting in the corner by a window, sat one of the Elders.
"This is the blood throne." My uncle's baritone echoed through the room. "Only those of royal blood and the elders know this is the true throne. For the elders to recognize you as their king, you must first be recognized by this stone. It is the keeper of our people's magiks. The blood that runs in your veins is the blood of this planet."
Moving to the channel, our uncle walked across the water as if there was an invisible bridge. Turning, he waited for my brother and me. Glancing into the water, Zimri stiffened, his eyes getting very wide. Reaching back, he took my hand and pulled me close to him. Stepping together, we found our feet fell on solid ground.
Amazed, I laughed and glanced down, only to realize what Zimri had seen. Faces of dead Avalonians stared up at us from beneath the water. Freezing on the spot, my eyes widened in fear. Zimri pulled me tightly to him. "It's okay, Zira. They can't hurt you from their grave." Then, using his arm around me, Zimri moved us across the rest of the channel until we stood with our uncle in front of the throne.
Our king patted my head like he did his dogs. "There, child. Only those of the blood can cross that channel. If anyone not of the blood tries, the dead rise and steal them to the grave with them." Our uncle moved to the throne. "Zimri, you will be seated on the throne. Your right arm will be cut and placed thusly." The king sat on the throne and placed his right arm along the dark grey stone armrest.
"The royal womb will stand beside you, and her arm will be cut so that her blood blends with yours, and she will speak the words that make you the king." Our king smiled at the chair. "When I was brought here my first time, this stone was mid-grey. When my blood pooled and was absorbed into the stone, it became darker. I was the most powerful king in centuries. Your crowning may see this throne once again the black of our peoples' blood, Zimri."
