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“Cover her,” Horas ordered. “This male shall not see her unclothed.” As Sarus headed to the bedchamber, he turned a fulminating glare at the government official who cowered beneath it. “You will see our female is unharmed and report her status as mated to a bonded dyad.”
The male nodded and followed the big warrior who led that way. By the time they arrived bedside, Sarus had covered the female with a clean blanket. The official sniffed the air, then opened his mouth and sucked in a breath to taste the air on the back of his forked tongue. The sensitive cells on the back of his throat tasted the remnants of passion, pain, and worry on the air. He glanced at the female’s face, her eyes closed in slumber. Exhaustion drew the finely scaled skin tightly over her cheekbones. His hand stretched toward her.
A larger hand shot out and arrested it, wrapping around the forearm and extended claws pricking the bureaucrat’s scaled hide.
“Touch her and die,” Sarus warned, his voice low and guttural, his crest flattened to his skull in an outward expression of pure fury.
The official glanced at the other male whose clawed grip was crushing his arm. His voice shaking, he said, “Release me, please. I will not touch your mate.”
“Get out,” Sarus snarled, reluctantly letting go.
The petty functionary scuttled away, knowing he’d triggered the rage of two newly mated warrior males and that withdrawal was the only decision he could make in which he remained alive.
Mated males of the warrior class were both terribly unpredictable and entirely too predictable. The official noted in his device that the human female was indeed well and truly barbed and bonded. The instinctual behavior of the two males gave additional evidence of that.
Chapter9
Upon awakening, Evangeline found herself whisked into the bathroom where softly murmured words and gentle hands bathed her sensitive new skin. When she was carried back into the bedroom, the soiled bed coverings had been replaced with fresh. A silky linen sheath that wouldn’t abrade her new skin was draped around her body and fastened at the shoulders. She likened it to an ancient Greek chiton such as worn by women millennia ago.
Once she had been clothed, Sarus carried her into the kitchen and sat, anchoring her on his lap by the simple means of wrapping one burly arm around her and pinning her in place. Horas set a platter heaping with food on the table. He picked up a fork, stabbed a morsel, and held it to her lips.
“Eat.”
The idea of refusing to comply flashed through her mind and vanished. Evangeline was too hungry to disobey. She opened her mouth and let him place the morsel on her tongue. Mild, creamy flavor filled her mouth, imparting a gentle cooling effect. When she swallowed, she opened her mouth again, because a small experimental squirm indicated quite clearly that Sarus would not allow her to feed herself. Sarus’ primary cock lengthened and swelled to form a ridge beneath her sex, separated from her by the fabric of her dress and the leather of his kilt. Resigned to being babied, Evangeline relaxed against his chest and let Horas feed her.
“What happens now?” she asked between bites.
“We inform our superior commanders,” Sarus answered, his voice rumbling deep within his chest. “Horas is stationed at the palace and I am stationed off-planet.”
“So, someone must give up his duty station?” she asked.
“The base where I serve is not … conducive to raising a family,” Sarus said after a long moment, deciding against explaining the prohibition against females on a military outpost. “It is a place of strategy and war.”
“In other words, it’s a military base without the military housing around it,” Evangeline reasoned, thinking of the now-defunct army base where her uncle had served until he’d died of cancer. Only high ranking officers enjoyed private quarters there.
“You have such facilities on Earth?” Horas inquired.
“I think most countries with standing armies do,” she said. “Perhaps our cultures have more in common than we supposed.”
Sarus grunted. Horas held the fork to her mouth and she obediently accepted the food.
“Those outposts offer little in the way of the comforts a female requires,” Horas explained. “They are populated by unmated warrior males, bred and trained for martial service.”
Evangeline frowned. “What do you mean ‘bred and trained?’”
“I have read a bit about human cultures.”
“Cultures?” Sarus echoed in curiosity.
“Aye. Humans divide themselves into myriad tribes with even more variations in culture,” Horas explained as he fed their mate another bite. Seeing her meekly accept his care satisfied something deep inside him.
“Why do they … splinter themselves so?” Sarus asked.
“That I do not know,” Horas replied. He looked at Evangeline and asked, “Do you?”
She swallowed, shook her head, and replied, “It’s probably because, for most of human history, pockets of humanity were separated by geography. Those groups formed their own customs and languages and beliefs. When they came into contact with one another, conflict arose. We still have countries warring among each other for control over land, resources, and people.”
“Barbaric,” Sarus muttered under his breath.
