Striker (31 page)

"Please, Dargon, now. Please, now," Zeus begged as Dargon rubbed against him.

Dargon nibbled a path over Zeus’s shoulder blade. He rocked back, only to have Dargon grasp his hip and nudge his thighs, silently asking for Zeus to widen his stance. The vibration in Dargon's chest increased when Zeus moved, his raspy tongue soothing the sting of his nipping bites. Dargon was tall enough so that he covered Zeus perfectly if he dropped to his elbows. When he did, Dargon's arms bracketed him, his hands pressed into the mattress next to Zeus’s arms.

The natural lubricant eased the slide of Dargon thrusting against Zeus, torturing him with the promise of what would come. He whimpered and whispered pleas for mercy. Dargon ran his claws down Zeus’s chest to his abdomen; even as he hissed, his eyes rolled up into his head, a chill racing through his body.

The moment Alpha moved from Dargon he knew, Alpha's touch was unmistakable. Easy and fluid, Alpha poured onto his spine, the touch softer than the finest spyder silk as he moved around Zeus’s neck. Squeezing gently, almost like a hand, Alpha slid over his bottom lip, causing Zeus to drop his jaw. His tongue darted out to caress Alpha's skin.

Dargon ran his claws down Zeus’s back, and then followed the marks with kisses. Alpha cupped Zeus’s cheek in the way only Alpha could, whispering sultry words to both him and Dargon, drawing graphic pictures of what they would spend the night doing. Zeus’s blood pulsed with passion as he writhed between the touches.

He begged for more. Demanded more. Every part of his body was licked and bit and caressed, until he was sure he would lose his mind. He cried out when Dargon finally thrust home, and rocked back to meet Dargon's hips. Their rhythm stayed slow and languid, every movement even and calculated to wring the most pleasure out of all of them.

Zeus threaded his fingers with Dargon's when he wrapped his arms around Zeus’s chest, completely covering him. He relaxed into the embrace, loving how Dargon's chest rubbed against his back, and basking in Alpha's touch. He wanted to stay like that forever, to never stop. He let go of his worries of what the coming days would bring. Time fell away and Zeus cherished the moment he, Dargon, and Alpha claimed for themselves amidst the upheaval life had become.

Tingles zipped down his spine, and Dargon's thrusts sped up. The nibbles on his shoulder blade turned to sharp nips. Zeus flew over the edge, his body trembling with the pleasure as he cried out. Dargon groaned, his arms constricting around Zeus, pulling him impossibly close as the room echoed with Dargon's snarling growl.

They fell together onto their sides, hot and sweaty, not yet ready to disconnect from each other. Zeus needed the closeness with Dargon and Alpha. How easily he had become addicted to their touch, needing the contact like he needed the air to breathe.

"Zeus."

Glancing back at Dargon, Alpha had settled over Dargon's features, his amber eyes warm and beckoning. Zeus reached up and grasped the back of his head to pull him down into a soft, languid kiss, slowly devouring Alpha's breathy moans. He only let Alpha go long enough to gasp for air before going back for another taste.

Zeus gave thanks. For his life. His family. His lovers. His younglings. He had always known he had been blessed to be found aboard the abandoned vessel. He could have ended up floating in space indefinitely, lost and alone until the cryo unit gave out, dying without even being aware. But never before had he believed he had been blessed to be lost in the first place.

The revelations of the last few lunar months had shown him life could have been so different several times over, and he realized he would rather have been lost and abandoned, because that path led him to the here and now. Although arriving at that moment, wrapped in Dargon's arms with Alpha kissing him with unbridled passion, had been rough and dangerous. Even though their future promised more of the same, until the galaxies were once again secure, these special and spectacular males were his. He claimed them. And never would he give them up.

Zeus rose early the next morning and showered using water. Pure bliss. If he did not already have a full day planned, he would have stayed longer. As it was, he had risen late, only catching two hours of sleep after a long night of pleasure with his mates. He quickly groomed himself, wishing he had time to have his ears pierced so he could wear his stones. Then again, maybe it was fortuitous since his family had left them last night with strict instructions regarding what to wear.

His meme had brought half of his wardrobe from home, so he had a selection of court formals to choose from. She said to wear something imposing, but approachable. Luckily, he had paid attention to her lectures on how to choose clothing that delivered a message. From the circlet upon his brow to the boots that adorned his feet, he created an outfit conveying strength and power, without appearing austere or ostentatious: the clothing, well-made but simple, the jewelry plain and unassuming. Even his silver circlet proclaiming his station appeared modest.

The crowning piece was the black, knee-length formal jacket. At first glance, the material appeared smooth and unadorned, until the person looked closer to see Gerrho'Sauride winding up the sleeves. His meme's choice, not his; he had learned long ago to not argue over the little things.

Dargon lay on the sleeping platform, the silky covers covering him at the waist and entangled with his legs. The coil of Dargon's braided copper hair sat on the side table next to Zeus’s two side-locks. The shorter hair made Dargon look more formidable. At the moment, the single line of hair from Dargon's temple to the base of his neck appeared as if a slobbery animal had licked a pattern of swirls along the row.

He leaned down to brush a kiss over Dargon's lips. A couple of quick moves and Dargon flipped Zeus on his back. He gazed up into sleepy green orbs. Dargon snuffled at his neck and he tilted his head, giving Dargon better access.

"You smell ... uhm." Dargon began to suck on Zeus’s neck.

"I have meetings to go to today. Do not leave a mark." Instead of pushing Dargon away, Zeus pulled him closer.

Dargon ran his chin up Zeus’s neck, marking him. "You washed my scent off. If you leave smelling unclaimed, who knows what lengths I will have to go to dissuade delusional suitors?"

Zeus chuckled. Very few had ever considered Zeus mateable. Dargon did not have to be concerned. "Let up. I have to meet with Father."

"You say 'release me', but your hands hold me close." After marking as much of Zeus’s skin as he could reach, Dargon kissed him thoroughly before rolling off Zeus, leaving him panting and aching.

"You are rotten. I cannot speak to my father like this." Zeus peered down at the erection pressing at his placard.

He heard Dargon's deep chuckle until the door to the lavatory closed.

Zeus rolled off the sleeping platform, straightening his clothes and making himself presentable again. He hoped by the time he met up with his father, his body would be under control. Not that he needed to worry. Simply thinking about the activities the day held, filled with meetings and the tribunal, helped him to quickly master his body before he left the sleeping chamber.

Outside of the suite, Zeus was joined by four guardsmen, leaving Dargon's four behind. He had some haggling to do before he spoke at Amlyn's court martial regarding her attempted assassination of him. Dargon, as her captain, would speak before Zeus did. The trial would not go well for her, since she disobeyed a direct order from her superior officer. The typical punishment of such a grievous deed usually ended with a dishonorable discharge, but the attempt on the life of a prince would land her in prison.

Zeus quickened his steps. He had promised to meet his father nearby. The slick sole of his boot slid on the highly-glossed floor when he suddenly stopped. A tapping came from the hallway around the corner. The noise jogged his memory with the familiar sound. He broke out into a cold sweat, even as he internally chastised himself for forgetting the Chtichlian's vessel had been hiding from the humans when the Gorgon had entered Valespian space. So much had happened since then, he had forgotten about them. Of course they would come to the capital once the battle had been won.

Phantom pain twisted through his core, but the instantaneous rage caught him off-guard. He had been afraid of the Chtichlians since his last meeting with them at thirteen summers. Ever since his father and the Monticore had barged in on the unauthorized operation, Zeus’s groin gaping and bleeding as he sat in their surgery chair screaming in agony, the Chtichlians quickly working to put him back together.

He had been blind and in so much pain he could not keep track of the action in the room. The timed nanites they injected gave him sight by degrees, but he heard the whispered rumors as he recovered at home. Attendants had dropped from the ceiling, ensnaring his father and the guards who had barged into the room in response to his screams. Nothing the Chtichlians said soothed his father, who swore if the Chtichlians ever ventured into Atlaintician space, he would find a way to wipe the race from the face of the galaxies.

Zeus had been inconsolable for days. He clung to Meme as a youngling would. The twins took to sleeping with him, because he woke in the night screaming from his dreams. He heard his father rage through the halls. The Houses stayed clear of the palace, afraid to add to the volcanic nature of his father's fury.

Now, he could already envision the blood dripping from the walls if he did not move quickly and distract his father, for he would have no mercy. And yet, he could not move his feet. His heart beat fiercely against his chest and his vision grew white around the edges.

"Zeus, love, what is wrong?"
Alpha's worried voice helped him to pull himself together.

"Nothing. Just something unexpected." He did not think he sounded reassuring.

"We come."

Now he really had to move, for he would not have his mates or young in the same vicinity as the Chtichlians. Putting steel in his spine, he rounded the corner with purpose. He faltered for a half-second upon the sight of the three Chtichlians further down the hallway. They resembled the spyders they created, with hard exoskeletons covered in bristly hair and distended abdomens splashed in a rainbow of bright colors, the designs unique and beautiful, despite their form. The three largest Chtichlians were so tall that their knees came to within a meter of the high ceiling.

Beneath the Chtichlians scampered their attendants. They too were arachnid in shape, knee-high to Zeus and devoid of any color. Their bulbous black eyes were trained on his father, who stood in the center of the corridor, fist shaking in the air, surrounded by eight Monticore whose hissing only spurred his father's behavior.

"Father!" Zeus called more sharply than he intended. He placed himself between the Chtichlians and his parent, wishing he could be taller, bigger, and more able to look his father directly in the eye to block out part of his view. Too late, he realized placing himself in front of the Chtichlians only served to give his father a visual of the son who had been hurt with a backdrop of those who had injured him.

The ticking sound of the Chtichlian's pointed feet striking the hard floor caused Zeus’s skin to crawl. He knew he reeked of fear.

His father roared.

"Father, no!" His words had no effect. His father strode forward, his red and gold robes appearing as flames billowing about him. His black scales gleamed in the natural light as his sunrise-yellow eyes snapped with fury. Zeus placed both of his hands against his father's chest, attempting to keep him from going further. He counted on the fact that his parent, whatever his state of agitation, would never cause him harm.

The door to the chamber that the Chtichlians waited before opened. When Zeus glanced behind him, Crown Prince Vipre stood in the doorway with a startled expression. Great! If Prince Vipre could move the Chtichlian's along, Zeus could take care of his father.

Zeus raised his voice for all to hear. "Prince Vipre, if you would please assist the Chtichlians before we have an incident?" He did not wait to see if the prince understood his request. "Monticore! On me!" he barked, bringing the guard out of their hostile stance. "Attend to your emperor's safety. Follow me, now."

Zeus held his breath as he walked back the way he had come. A swift glance behind told him the Monticore had jumped to obey his command. Four of them had lifted his father off his feet. He winced at the sight of his father thrashing in the hands of his own bodyguards, who quickly followed Zeus as he led them through the hallways. Few people were about that early in the morning, but those present gaped at the spectacle they made. The whispers were bound to spread by midday. None of it mattered; only keeping his father safe did.

When he thought they were a respectable distance away and several corridors over, he ordered the guards to release his father, who at some time during the transport had given up the fight. Once on his feet, his father slowly straightened. Zeus waited for the tirade, ready to accept his father's anger for his actions. With slow measured movements, his parent righted his robes and painstakingly smoothed out any wrinkles with the palms of his hands. Zeus stood at attention, braced for the onslaught that never came.

When his father finally met his gaze, he grinned sheepishly at Zeus. "Well done, son. Your meme will lose her scales over the spectacle I just made. I will need to gift her with something special in order to keep my scales intact." His father seemed to mentally shake himself before spinning on his heel. "Come. We are already late for our meeting."

Relieved, Zeus fell into step alongside his father. The corridors were tall and wide, and by afternoon, people would fill them completely. On one side of the corridor were massive white columns, between heavy glass windows that looked out onto the city of Haven. At any other time, the view would have been breathtaking, with tapered towers and multiple waterfalls pouring into suspended rose-colored pools.

His dark formalwear contrasted with his father's gold-and-red robe and breeches. He wondered why his parents had insisted on that particular outfit for him until Azaes and Mestor joined them. He and Mestor appeared almost exactly the same while Azaes wore the blues and reds of the heir apparent.