Page 20 of Alien Naga's Prize
“Are we…?”
“Locked.” Azul growls the word. “My knot has taken root within you.” His words have a burr to them, a happy, glorious burr. “To ensure you are prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” I yawn, tiredness suddenly slipping over me.
“What boxes did you tick on the form at Starlight Brides again?” Azul asks me.
My yawn comes again, and I can hardly keep my eyes open. Being stuck on Azul’s knot doesn’t bother me. Not now, not when I could sleep instead.
“Don’t remember…both? There were only two.” My voice fails. My brain fails. My body sleeps.
“Then you are my bride and breeder, my goddess.”
AZUL
The air on Luxus is heavily perfumed. It gets into my nostrils, attempting to drive out the scent of Jenna. I will not let it.
“Welcome to Luxus.” A large Remek, all horns and no shirt gives me a short, wary bow.
I find myself lifting my fangs at the warrior. He might be part of their security detail, but he has no place being this close to me.
Or near my mate.
Fak! Jenna is not my mate. I have to keep our agreement uppermost in my mind. We have an agreement, no matter what happened between us, how her body reacted to mine,how mine reacted to her…
I must put it all to one side. Concentrate on the mission, on my mark. Keep her safe.
“Luxus law requires all weapons to be registered on entry,” the Remek intones.
I snarl at him briefly, then adopt an expression of indifference.
“Very well.” I hold out my palatitanium plated blaster, the one I liberated from a mark two nova-years ago and keep for occasions like this. “This is the only weapon I carry.”
The Remek narrows his eyes at me. “But you’re a Glycon…” he says before recovering himself. “Very good,” he says formally, using his screen to make a note of my weapon.
I sigh deeply and look around.
“Is there anywhere on thislittleplanet where I can obtain clothing for my mate?” I say with a bored tone. “She insists the wardrobe she brought with her will not do and wants to procure another one.” I stifle a yawn, making sure my jeweled ceremonial arm cuffs jingle.
His eyes flick to them, narrow again, then he looks over his shoulder.
“We have a personal shopping service.” He crooks a finger at a tall, pale blue Tref female. “Who can obtain anything you need for your mate,warrior.”
I dislike the intonation in his voice but keep my bristling to myself. I’m playing a part, and I have to keep to it. Glycons are renowned as warriors across the galaxy, and our wealth, emanating from our star fuel and gemstone mines, is well known, especially among species like Remek, who pride themselves in being honorable warriors.
It makes my scales crawl to pretend not to be what I am. But if I can convince this guard, I can convince anyone.
The Tref female weaves her way over to us.
“How can I help?” she asks.
“I need to check into our accommodation, and my mate requires a new wardrobe.” I study the claws on my left hand. “Then we require pleasure of the best kind.” I fix her with my gaze. “And I don’t mean the sort of pleasure every other…species…comes for. I mean the best.” I give her a knowing look.
Her face splits into a smile. “Your desires are our desires…”
“Azul of Glycon,” the Remek prompts her.
“PrinceAzul,” I correct him.