Dragon Lords Books 1 - 4 Box Set: Anniversary Edition (4 page)

T
he feast had been set
before the brides, laid out on large trenchers and spread over a long wooden table, like the offerings of a community potluck. The locals dined on their own around the campfires, as they kept their distance from the prospective brides. Morrigan saw some of the wives feed their husbands by hand. Others kissed, or laughed at a private joke, or touched hands. It was a collection of intimate scenes played out on a public stage.

Curious, she let her gaze roam over the campground. The bachelors were missing. She had been in too much of a daze to see where they had gone off to. The dreamlike fog had astounded her at first, until she had determined it was just nerves. She was used to watching the spotlight from the sidelines, not being in the middle of it, and that much virile male attention was bound to make any woman lightheaded.

Morrigan was hesitant to taste the roasted two-horned pigs and blocks of Qurilixian blue bread with whipped cheese. Though it smelled wonderful, she had never partaken of an alien meal that wasn’t first purified in a food simulator. Thinking of all the extraterrestrial parasites that might be in it, she held back. She had done a story on the Da’Na parasite once. Gus had needed a reporter and she’d been the closest one. Though relatively harmless to non-humanoids, what those little critters did to their human hosts hadn’t been pretty. Thinking of the popping stink pustules she had been forced to photograph on the crash survivors, she gagged. If she never went back to the planet of Divan it would be too soon. The memory alone was enough to keep her stomach from rumbling.

Servants carried pitchers full of a strange berry wine, calling it, “Maiden’s Last Breath,” as they offered it to her. Though she had a newspaper-issued universal translator implanted behind her ear to help her understand several main languages, the locals here spoke the more universally known Old Star language. She was glad, because she doubted the translators included the Draig vernacular. Thinking the liquor would definitely kill any adverse critters floating in the drink, she tried it. The sweet taste was intoxicatingly wonderful.

Most of the brides dined in jittery silence. However, a few of the more boisterous flirted with the handsome servants, who were presumably too young to participate as grooms, and who were more fully clothed than the bachelors had been. Since it was hard for the brides to lift their arms, the attractive servants retrieved anything they desired. Some even went so far as to offer the women food by their own hand.

The sparkling glint of the emerald on her finger caught Morrigan’s attention. She realized she’d spent most of the meal without taking a picture or video feed. How could she have forgotten her assignment? Setting down her goblet of berry wine, she put her hand under the table and pressed the emerald once to begin recording.

Looking again for the men, she leaned to Nadja at her side and asked, “Where do you think the grooms went off to?”

Nadja jolted, as if surprised to hear Morrigan speak. Lifting her glass, the woman began to answer but was cut off by the servant who rushed to fill her half-empty goblet. Nadja again gave a startled jump in her seat at his sudden appearance, but let him do his job. Poor woman. She was a nervous creature. It didn’t take the observations of a reporter to know that the reserved Nadja wasn’t used to the primitive scene before them.

“They go to make an offering to the gods,” the young servant answered Morrigan. Nadja lowered her goblet to the table when he finished his task. The servant topped off Morrigan’s goblet, urging her to drink with a wave of his hand. Morrigan smiled at him, trying not to focus her eyes on a thin scar across the tip of his nose. “They ask for blessing this night in finding a wife.”

“I thought that is what the bridal procession was all about,” Morrigan said, thinking the servant’s superstitions adorable.

“The Procession of Finding reveals the gods’ will but does not guarantee a match.” The servant didn’t move away. He looked down at her drink, again urging silently for her to drink it. Morrigan lifted it and took several obvious gulps. The servant grinned and walked away to attend some of the other ladies in need of more alcohol.

“Are you nervous?” Nadja asked in a hush when they were alone. She didn’t wait for Morrigan to answer as she giggled apprehensively. “I can barely sit still. I think this drink has a lot of liquor or something in it.”

Morrigan’s head had become a bit light, but she continued to drink anyway, knowing it would take more than a little wine to get her drunk. However, as she finished her goblet and a fog began to edge the sides of her vision, she rethought her assumption about the drink and mustered up her courage to try the blue bread. She hoped it would soak up the liquor and keep her level. She wouldn’t be able to write her story if she were too drunk to remember what happened.

“Rigan,” Nadja whispered. Morrigan looked over at the woman’s pale face. Her blue eyes danced around in her porcelain skin. Leaning forward, she said, “I’m scared. I think I’ve made a mistake. Do you think they would let me go back to the ship?”

“What’s wrong?” Morrigan had spoken to the woman a few times, but mostly Nadja had kept to herself.

“I…” Nadja paused and shook her head, seeming very close to crying. “They’re very big, aren’t they?”

“Who, the men?” Morrigan asked needlessly. She thought of the magnetic blue eyes of the warrior who captured her notice in the receiving line, visualizing them as if he was before her. Oh, yes, the warrior men were very big.

“Yes,” Nadja’s wide eyes looked down as she swallowed nervously. “Do you think they will…will hurt us? They seem bigger than most humanoid men. This place is not what I imagined when I signed on. Actually, I don’t know what I imagined.”

Morrigan detected the note of innocence in the woman. “Nadja, have you been with a man before?”

Nadja shook her head, embarrassed.

“Not even a droid?” Morrigan insisted. She had known that she would have to get rid of her virginity in order to get her story. Though, to her disappointment, none of Galaxy Brides’ technicians had said anything to her about it, except to clarify her status as they went through her records. That wasn’t necessarily conclusive. It was possible they’d suspected who she was after the history scan. She could lie about her occupation, but her travel records were harder to fake.

“No.” Nadja swallowed nervously and her gaze roamed over the fluttering tents in the distance. Shivering, she admitted, “I was always too embarrassed to go to the clubs and try one. But, I’ve seen pictures. Do you think these guys are shaped differently than human males? The uploads were not specific as to their heritage.”

“I haven’t given it much thought. I think galaxy law requires the species to be, uh, physically compatible before they are matched up. Otherwise, the marriage would do no good. We’re all humanoids. Besides, I hate to sound crass, but the whole point of this is so they can propagate their species.”

“I suppose,” Nadja said, not appearing to find comfort in Morrigan’s cold examination of their situation. The woman drank the rest of her wine. Without having to be asked, a servant was right there to refill it for her. Nadja drank that cup too.

“Did you ask any of the others?” Morrigan inquired when the servant had retreated down the table. She tried to keep the hopeful note out of her voice. “Have any of them said anything about not being with a man before? Or maybe having been with a man?”

“We’ve never discussed it.” Nadja shook her head in denial.

Morrigan forced an understanding smile. She’d bet Nadja found such subjects improper, and only said something now because she was scared and on her way to being completely intoxicated.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Morrigan assured her. “I hear several of the women have had their virginity replaced. So it can’t be that bad, can it? It hurts for a second, but no more than the series of shots they gave us on the way here.”

“I suppose you’re right, though I hadn’t heard that.” Nadja seemed to calm down and nodded her head. The ease didn’t last long. Suddenly, she tensed, staring in a way that made Morrigan turn her attention down the raised dining platform. Nadja’s voice left her with a breathy, “Oh!”

Oh was right. The grooms were back, walking toward their table. Slick, oiled muscles gleamed in the firelight. The fur loincloths hid very little. Morrigan fumbled for her emerald, bumping it several times before she realized she’d left it recording earlier.

Where there had been silence, music again filled the air. Its low rhythm was as sweet as a warm sun and as gentle as the wind’s caressing kisses. One by one, the prospective brides fell silent. The handsome warriors made their way to stand below the tables under the watchful gazes of the brides. The male gazes scanned and quickly fixed upon the women of their choice. Morrigan heard Nadja breathe anxiously, but she had no words to offer the woman. Her eyes had found those of haunting blue.

There were fewer men than before. Morrigan guessed it was because some had decided not to choose a mate. She blinked slowly, noticing again the strangely glowing crystal hanging on the man’s neck. A spark of intensity coursed through her as she looked at it. It was an electrifying fire in her veins, turning her blood to molten heat. Glancing about, she noticed that all the men present had a glowing crystal. She had little time to wonder as the blue-eyed savage who captured her notice began to climb the platform steps to stand before her.

Her head rolled back on her shoulders as she tried to breathe. Why was this handsome stranger looking at her like that—like she was a meal about to be devoured? And why was she suddenly enjoying his perusal?

Morrigan swallowed nervously, her hastened breathing coming harder now. She waited in eager anticipation, mind-numbed to everything around her. The man leaned closer. Her eyes swept over his naked, glistening chest—so smooth, so strong, so tanned—before moving unabashedly over his thick arms. A band of gold tightly encircled his biceps—arms that could crush, arms that could touch and caress and take without having to ask permission.

Then he spoke, his Draig-accented voice soft and deep. It was like crushed velvet to the skin, as he uttered simply, “I am Ualan. Come.”

Morrigan froze, licking her lips nervously. Her head swam with the effects of the potent berry wine. She never actually thought one of them would try to pick her for marriage. Men had never shown exceptional interest before, especially these types of men.

Come.

The word held such command, such finality. His eyes stayed locked on hers. Someone behind her must have carried a torch because she swore a golden light filled the blue of his gaze before fading back to normal. She forgot her newspaper chip assignment, forgot her editor, her self-appointed mission to find a scandal—any scandal.

Ualan’s hand rose, as if to touch her. She waited, eager to feel him and yet confused by the urge. Her skin pulled in his direction and her nerves tingled with a peculiar current that flowed from his body into hers. The wine swam violently in her veins like a mystical drug. Suddenly, Morrigan wondered if she shouldn’t have tried a more lifelike sex droid. Maybe the results would have been less clinical and she wouldn’t be so incredibly drawn to this man before her.

Some of the women around her stood and were led off in various directions, their movements drifting and slow. Morrigan felt Nadja get up and glanced over at her. The woman’s eyes were glassy and dazed as she was led down the platform. All of a sudden, Morrigan realized she was the only woman left sitting with a man before her. The un-chosen ones glared at her in angry jealousy. Her heart leapt in panic. She tried to speak, to let one of the others take her place. No sound escaped her throat.

Why was this man still waiting for her? She wasn’t going to go with him. He should have gotten the hint when she did not immediately obey.

Just as she was about to suggest he move to another, Ualan’s head tilted to the side in confusion. Placing his palms flat on the table, he leaned closer and glanced down at his glowing crystal before looking into Morrigan’s stunned eyes. He breathed deeply.

Morrigan leaned back. Did he actually try to smell her?

“Come,” he whispered, quieter than before. Though the tone was still soft, it was edged with the hard insistence of a command, as if he might forcibly pull her over the table at any moment. His eyes turned to liquid gold. This time it didn’t look like firelight reflection but a genetic anomaly. The gold threads swimming in blue pools were mesmerizing in their beauty. She didn’t want to look away.

His eyes narrowed, the skin around them tightening as he gave her a stern look through the mask. One of the un-chosen brides giggled. The sound pulled Morrigan from her trance. That was when she realized they were being watched. The music had faded. Married couples had stopped laughing, their faces frowning and serious. The men’s over-bright eyes focused curiously on her in a blend of expectation and incredulity.

All right,
she thought.
I’ll play along. Take me to round two.

Unable to resist, and unwilling to stay the center of all that attention, Morrigan nodded weakly and stood to follow him. The man’s full lips again tugged with a promising, yet hesitant smile. His eyes calmed and his tension rolled into relief. He nodded at her before turning around.

Ualan led her down the dining platform steps. Vaguely, she heard the laughter return to the gathered Qurilixian. Lively music resumed and couples began to dance around the bonfire pit.

Ualan didn’t touch her, but Morrigan could feel him pulling her behind him with an invisible thread. There was alien magic in the air, binding her footsteps to his, controlling her brain, telling her to follow him. Yet, she heard music and smelled the wood smoke on the night wind. Her limbs could move where she commanded them, if she commanded them hard enough. The stars glistened, seeming to swim around in her vision, and the moon was so big that it felt as if a searchlight shone on them from above.

Ualan said nothing as he led her forward over the dirt worn pathways. Her eye strayed along the barbarian man’s backside, hesitating at the gray fur loincloth hiding his ass from view. She swallowed nervously. Her hands lifted toward him, but were stopped by the silken ties.