His Highness the Duke (8 page)

tension in her legs and pressed down to take him in. The thick probe of his shaft

stretched her.

Aeron moaned. He rocked gently, still holding on to her hips. Her body had been

teased to the point of explosion, and now the rocking pressure of him inside her pushed

her over the edge. She gave a soft cry as she climaxed. It was unlike anything she‘d ever

felt. Her muscles squeezed him tight as her entire length tensed. He lifted her a little bit

and then dropped her down. Bron jerked with release, joining her climax. Time refused

to move and they stayed frozen in that position for a long time. It was perfection.

* * * * *

The gods were going to curse them.

What had he done? Their marriage was cursed.

Bron stared at Aeron‘s face, watching the ultimate pleasure become replaced by

stunned horror. She must have felt it, too. They were not supposed to fully join this

night. The Breeding Festival was meant as a night of discovery only. If the others found

out what they had done, his honor would be tarnished. Bron closed his eyes. His honor

was already tarnished.
He
knew what they‘d done.

Aeron slowly pulled off his body. ―What have I done?‖

Bron instantly rolled to sitting, cupping her face in his hands to stop her when

she would get of the bed. She paused, looking at him. Her pale face and stricken

expression tore at his insides, compounding his guilt. She was his bride. She had every

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reason to trust him to protect her and he‘d failed. First, he‘d been so preoccupied trying

not to hope for a bride that he‘d missed her in the receiving line. Then, he didn‘t try

harder to explain about the removal of the mask when she asked him if
he
could remove

it and not be married. He should have clarified that if
she
removed the mask it would

bind her to him no matter what happened, but he‘d been desperate to seal their union.

Third, and perhaps the most grievous offense to their now joined honor, was the fact he

had taken her fully on their wedding night.

She had only known him for a short time and in that short time he‘d failed her,

failed himself, failed his family. She‘d tested him with her body and he‘d failed. The

weight of it pressed in on him. He was the High Duke of Draig, held to the highest of

standards. He was to be an example to his people. Perhaps this is why the gods made

him wait so many years for a bride. They knew he was not worthy. They knew he

would fail. And finally, after all that waiting, he‘d proven the fears of the gods right. He

failed.

Failed.

No wonder she was looking at him like that. She had bound herself to a man

with tarnished honor. She had trusted him.

Failed.

―I will set this right,‖ Bron swore. He brushed the hair from her face as he held

her cheeks in his hands, keeping his eyes on hers. ―The gods will not curse us. I will

atone. I will make this right. They will understand that I waited so long for you. I will

repair my honor for you if it takes the rest of my days, Aeron. I swear it on my life.‖

She still didn‘t move. He wasn‘t even sure she heard him. She blinked once,

twice, but that was it.

―Remain here.‖ He wanted to kiss her, but he didn‘t dare. ―I will come back for

you in the morning. I will take care of everything. I will make this right.‖

Bron grabbed his loincloth and hurried from the tent. He wasn‘t sure how he

would keep his promise, but he would find a way. By all the gods, he would find a way.

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His Highness The Duke

* * * * *

Aeron vaguely heard Bron speaking to her before he left the tent. She sat on the

bed, stunned, horrified, terrified. Her hand moved to cover her stomach. The pleasure

of Bron‘s touch had been too much to resist. She couldn‘t stop herself. She‘d been

possessed. It felt unlike anything she‘d ever experienced, and now the residual pain of

their joining was an all too real reminder of her impending death.

Mortality. It wasn‘t something she was supposed to face. That was why women

from her planet—make that her exploded non-existent planet—used transmitters to

exchange pleasure essences. She and Riona were the last of their kind. The only men in

the universe who understood her biological clock were dead.

―And I‘m about to join them,‖ she whispered. Tears entered her eyes. ―I‘m

dying.‖

She glanced around when no one answered. Bron had left her and she

desperately wanted him there to hold her, to somehow reassure her. Yes, he was a

stranger, but he was the only thing she had. She thought of her sister, but Riona would

provide little comfort. She might understand, but the woman would merely mock her

or, worse, look at her with pity.

The empty tent provided little solace. Crying harder, Aeron collapsed onto the

bed. ―What have I done? What have I done?‖

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Chapter Five

Bron kneeled in the dark temple, unmoving, arms outstretched, until dawn

peeked through the narrow stone window. Even then, as his arms dropped from

exhaustion, did he remain, until the sunlight traveled down the wall to hit upon his

face. His mind replayed the events of the evening, of his failures, over and over again.

His knees ached when he finally stood, but he ignored the discomfort. He

wanted to go to Aeron, but first he needed to make an appearance at the preliminary

showing before the king and queen. Many of the grooms did not make it to that part of

the traditional ceremony. The elders tended to look the other way at the absences, but

Bron was not about to allow another slip in propriety.

The three suns were shining brightly on the red Qurilixian soil. The soft green

sky began to replace the darkness. Knowing where the servants would keep the

clothing, he made his way through the forest, over yellow fern groundcover and fallen

colossal leaves. Small animals shifted the ferns from beneath. He sensed rather than saw

them. A purple bird flew nearby. The supply tent looked like the others without a

banner to signify a family line. No one questioned him as he entered, found his clothing

and quickly slipped into it. He left the loincloth behind, as he would no longer need it.

The loosely fitted, black pants and dark red tunic shirt, though nicely made, were more

in line with what he wore every day. Gold embroidered trim decorated the shirt‘s

edges. It was the first time he‘d worn the garment and it felt a bit tight around his

shoulders. Before he left, he ordered a man to bring Aeron the gown he‘d ordered made

eight years ago for a new wife. It matched his clothing.

The brides were still sleeping. It was expected they would be absent this morning

if the men had done their duty by them. The thought caused Bron to look down at his

crystal. Luckily it still glowed. Had it stopped there would have been no hope for him.

Seeing the councilmen gathered around his uncle, the king, he nodded and took

his place in line. He wondered if they knew his shameful secret, if they could detect

what he had done. Other new husbands stood proudly, waiting to be acknowledged.

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Like most Draig ceremonies this one would be short. Bron did not see his brothers in

attendance, nor three of the four princes. Prince Ualan grinned at him. Bron nodded

once as he stood next to him.

―Many blessings, cousin,‖ Bron said.

―Many blessings,‖ Ualan answered. The man could barely contain his

excitement. ―It is a fine morning, is it not? Though I see our younger brothers did not

make it out of bed.‖

―The burden of being oldest,‖ Bron answered. It was an old joke between them.

Ualan was the oldest prince and heir to the throne. They understood each other. They

both had high expectations placed on them as the first born sons.

―One that does not seem so heavy today. We are truly families blessed,‖ said the

prince.

Before Bron could answer, a councilman called to the line of new husbands,

―Lord Ualan?‖

―It‘s done.‖ Ualan stepped forward, lifted his hand high to the council to show

the glowing crystal before turning to show it to all gathered. The council acknowledged

in silent approval of him and waited for the next man to step forward. Ualan left the

area.

Bron, being next in rank followed his cousin‘s example. Nervously, he took the

crystal from his neck, praying it wouldn‘t stop glowing as he held it above his head. ―It

is done.‖ The words were not as strong as Ualan‘s had been, but they were loud

enough. The elders nodded in acknowledgement. Bron turned to go, sighing with relief.

The only thing left was to present his bride, and then they could go home and he could

find a way to restore his honor, but more importantly, he could begin to make it up to

his wife.

* * * * *

Aeron took a drink of wine, wishing it were water but not really caring. She was

thankful for the torches, though their low flame was no longer needed. Without them,

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she would have spent the night alone in the alien darkness. Bron had not returned to

the tent. The fact stung, though not as badly as the reason for his going. In one second

she had changed everything. Her life was over.

When she closed her eyes, she remembered the look on his face, the hesitance in

his expression as she stayed poised over him. He had wanted to stop her. His people‘s

traditions demanded she stop. But she‘d been the one in control of the situation. She‘d

been on top of him, rubbing against him, feeling him, needing him. The memory of it

caused an ache to build inside her. She wanted him again. She wanted the sensations,

the feelings, the mindless everything.

And yet with the idea of pleasure came an even more real torment. Mortality.

She was dying. Her mother had never explained the full bittersweet reality to her.

Perhaps she‘d been too young to understand it. To experience such deep pleasure,

surely what was the pinnacle of what life had to offer, was to court death.

What had been an eternity was now summed up into a few short years. Aeron

felt a panic inside her. There wasn‘t much time left. There was so much she needed to

do, needed to say and see and be. She began to pace the tent, pulling at the arm straps

hanging from her waist. There hardly seemed enough hours in the day now. How

would she fit it all in?

―My lady, may I enter?‖

Aeron nearly screamed at the male voice. Her heart was beating so fast. ―Yes?‖

She recognized the servant from the night before. He was carrying a red bundle

in his arms. Seeing her, he bowed his head. ―My lady‘s gown.‖

Aeron took it from him and said nothing. She wondered if he knew what she‘d

done. Logic told her she wouldn‘t look or smell or
be
different, but still the knowledge

of it burned so brightly in her mind she was sure everyone else would automatically

sense it. He left without comment.

She laid the gown on the bed and went to the tub. The water wasn‘t as hot as the

night before, but she didn‘t care as she quickly cleaned the restless night from her skin.

The deep red of the gown was a strange color choice for her, but then she was only used

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His Highness The Duke

to wearing Federation black. The bodice had a loose fit and the skirt was about two

inches too long. Still, the gold embroidery along the edges was beautiful. Were the

stitches meant to symbolize stylized dragons? She couldn‘t be sure.

Thinking of dragons only made her think of her shifter lover, which made her

remember pleasure, which made her remember death, which made her…

―You are beautiful, my lady.‖

The sound of Bron‘s voice knocked every thought from her head. She turned to

him. He was in a matching red tunic with a large dragon emblem sewn on the chest.

The styles of the clothing were similar in cut, clearly made as a set. In a strange way it

made her feel as if she belonged to him. ―Thank you.‖

He stood in front of the front flap, not making a move to come inside the tent.

His gaze roamed her face, searching her. When neither of them spoke, he moved

toward the food table and poured a goblet of wine. Aeron touched her damp hair,

quickly smoothing it with her hands. Then, seeing a comb, she made fast work of the

long length.

Bron sipped the liquor. He leaned back against the table, watching her pull at her

hair. The silence became unbearable and she tried to think of anything she could to fill

it.

―Did you sleep well?‖ she inquired. It wasn‘t what she wanted to know. What

did he think about what happened? How did she do?

How did I do?
Aeron grimaced. Was she really looking for a performance review

from the man she‘d tied up and forced her virginity upon?

―I did not sleep.‖ He set the goblet down on the table. ―I was in the temple trying

to atone for what happened.‖

―Atone?‖ she repeated. It wasn‘t exactly the thing a girl waited to hear from her

first lover.

―I know one night cannot make up for what happened, but I assure you I will

restore our family‘s honor if it takes a lifetime.‖ Bron made a move to take the goblet,