Sūnder (Darksoul Book 1) Read online

  “Say it!” he demanded. “Tell me, goddamn it!”

  “Yes, I’m yours. Sun and stars, I’m— Gabe!” Sūnder spilled, his ass gripping Gabe tight, forcing him over the edge with Sūnder. Thrusting in as far as he could, he spilled his seed, keeping hold of Sūnder’s tail until every drop had been pulled from him.

  Exhilarated, Gabe pulled out gently and stumbled on wobbly legs to the lavatory to retrieve a wet cloth to clean Sūnder. When he returned, Sūnder had rolled over onto his back, his feet resting on the floor. After taking care of Sūnder, Gabe collapsed onto the bed beside him, threading his fingers with Sūnder’s. They were both still breathing hard, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air.

  “You like a little spanking, huh?” Gabe glanced at Sūnder and grinned at his sheepish expression.

  “I guess I do. No one has dared to hit me before.” Sūnder ran a hand down his stomach where the black rosettes gave way to the dark, erogenous stripes that started below Sūnder’s ribcage. Sūnder winced as he caressed the area.

  The grin dropped from Gabe’s face and he rolled, rising onto an elbow to peer down at Sūnder. “Are you still hurting from the other day, or was I too rough?”

  “No! It’s nothing you did. The tightness in my stomach muscles has increased a little. Although I expected the soreness from the fight to have gone away before now….”

  Guilt assailed Gabe. He placed a hand on Sūnder’s sweaty forehead, cursing the fact he couldn’t tell if Sūnder ran a fever. “Why didn’t you tell me? We shouldn’t have had sex if you’re unwell, Sūnder. I’m going to call Dr. Lashūl.”

  Sūnder caught Gabe’s wrist before he could leave the bed. “I am not sick. I have already seen the healer and received a clean bill of health. It’s just a little discomfort, nothing more.”

  Gabe almost insisted Sūnder see Dr. Lashūl again, just for his own peace of mind. “You’re to tell me if the ache becomes worse,” he demanded. “I don’t care if we’re in the middle of some ceremony at the Festival, you let me know.”

  Sūnder’s smile was breathtaking. “You have my word. For now we have to take another shower, and find something to eat, mate.”

  Gabe chuckled as he followed Sūnder into the lavatory, thinking Sūnder had showered not an hour before. Not that he minded a wet Sūnder. Mate. Holy Shit. Panic and satisfaction warred within him. Did he just take Sūnder as a mate?

  The thought alone had Gabe pushing Sūnder into the corner of the shower, an aggressive snarl trapped in his throat. Sūnder’s eyes became heavy-lidded as he cupped the cheeks of Gabe’s ass, turned, and pressed Gabe to the wall to ravish him hungrily.

  A beast had been awakened within Gabe. Whether it was caused by cleansing Sūnder’s soul, or an element of wild nature had seeped into him, Gabe didn’t know. Possibly it had always been a part of him, slumbering, waiting for the right time. Waiting for Sūnder. As he moaned into Sūnder’s mouth, Gabe reveled in the stinging bite of Sūnder’s kiss and accepted that he was slowly changing, becoming what he and Sūnder needed in order to face their precarious future.

  The fucking L’fÿns had better stay out of his way. He might not know the extent of what he could do yet, but he wasn’t afraid to find out, either. Not anymore.

  22

  SŪNDER BARELY KEPT from preening when he and Gabe left the cabin. They were both well-fucked and their scents blended seamlessly with each other; even the nose-blind would be able to tell Gabe had claimed him. He was so giddy he wanted to share with everyone at the top of his lungs that he was Gabe’s. But he didn’t think Gabe would approve of such behavior, so he settled for smiling and waving his tail at everyone as they passed. Because, as the humans would say, fuck, it felt good.

  Gabe’s possessive behavior had been arousing. Sūnder hadn’t thought anything of coming back to the cabin smelling like the others. Nothing intimate had happened, only a couple of excited guardians who’d asked more questions than he could answer. But Gabe had become predatory at the first whiff, and Sūnder had been puzzled until he took a moment to parse out the scents. Someone being jealous over him, for him, was a novel feeling. And the sounds Gabe had made while claiming him… No one had ever cared enough to want Sūnder all to themselves. Sūnder was equal parts joyous and… and… he wasn’t sure what label to put on the emotion that made him feel so buoyant he thought he’d float off the bed.

  Now they walked down the corridor, Gabe holding his hand as his gaze challenged people to say anything. Many lifted their noses to scent the air, some did a double take as he and Gabe passed by, and many more grinned and nodded in greeting. He should explain to Gabe that on this ship they were among friends, people who cared about him, and Gabe didn’t need to protect him from them. But he held his tongue, wanting to revel in Gabe’s possessiveness for just a little while longer.

  Since they were starving, he and Gabe entered the communal dining hall. The chefs had opened the kitchen, as they often did when orbiting a ‘friendly’ planet, allowing people to walk up and order from the short menu. Several round tables large enough to seat seven filled the main floor, and off to one side was the rectangular table where Sūnder usually shared his meals with his officers. His mother had commandeered that area, her personal waitstaff setting the table. Strangely, she was fussing over Ronan and Akirá. It was good his mother had taken to Gabe’s best friend so strongly. Ronan was important to Gabe, making Ronan important to Sūnder, too. Akirá, on the other hand, was a puzzle.

  About half the guardians, sentinals, and faeborn who’d come aboard were seated at the round tables. As he and Gabe crossed the room to the table Válora had set, the diners turned and stared, conversation dying off completely. Somehow Gabe seemed larger than life as he boldly met each and every gaze. The two who’d spoken animatedly with Sūnder earlier pushed back their chairs to get up when the strangest thing happened: Gabe sent out a pulse that rolled like electricity across his skin. Several people visibly startled, while the eyes of others became large and round. Unsure what had just happened, Sūnder squeezed Gabe’s hand.

  When every faeborn, guardians, and green sentinel from Earth suddenly rose to their feet, Sūnder jerked Gabe behind him, placing himself as a shield between them and Gabe, alarmed and unsure whether any intended harm. Making his ire known, Gabe thumped Sūnder’s back, but Sūnder didn’t let up on his hold, scowling at the group, daring them to make a move. Together, those who’d come from Earth all bowed to him and Gabe. A wave of relief washed through Sūnder. Deciding there was no threat, Sūnder released Gabe, who pretended Sūnder hadn’t just manhandled him. The others stay bowed until Gabe hesitantly bowed back. Sūnder followed his example.

  “A’yrē sends the two of you his regards.” Válora called, breaking the awkward silence. “He’s stuck with your father at the embassy, but is looking forward to spending time with you both at the Festival.” She made an impatient gesture. “Sūnder, come, Gabe has to be starving.”

  He couldn’t help but grin when Gabe grabbed his hand again and pulled Sūnder behind him to Válora’s table. She motioned for Gabe to sit next to her. On her other side sat Ronan, looking a little overwhelmed but with a bright smile for Gabe. Once Sūnder was closer, he understood why Akirá was sitting with them, at least in part. Even though they showed no outward sign they were together, Ronan carried the Faelÿn’s heavy musk.

  Sūnder took his place on the other side of Gabe and allowed Válora’s staff to serve them. He listened with half an ear while Ronan and Válora inquired about Gabe’s health. Ronan was exceptionally worried; he’d seen firsthand what had happened when Gabe cleansed Shaefer.

  “I don’t understand why Gabe and Sūnder have to go to the Festival. I think it’s too dangerous.” Ronan’s hand fisted on the table as he spoke, fear for Gabe in his eyes. “After what I’ve learned about Tālia of Nellá and what’s she’s done so far, how can you assure me they will be safe?”

  One of the things Válora had relayed to Sūnder over the past twenty-four hour
s was the status of the L’fÿns caught armed outside A’yrē’s estate. Irrefutable evidence had been presented proving they had received information that after being taken to the Chándariān hospital to set an arm broken by Sūnder, A’yrē was being held against his will at the estate. The people of Nellá had made the journey to Earth to attend the assembly called by High Druid Mèlindria and were only at the estate to support Tālia if she was unable to walk A’yrē out of the house. They even had a reason for why they hadn’t contacted King Valiant with their suspicions: Tālia had tasked her attendant to tell King Valiant of their worries, and the attendant had taken it upon herself to deliver the message in person when she heard King Valiant had arrived in orbit, actually shuttling to Valiant’s ship and conveniently—too conveniently, Sūnder thought—“just missing” him.

  Since their claims, and the evidence they’d handed over to Valiant, couldn’t be disputed, the people were only fined for acting on foreign soil without authorization from the king. Tālia, on the other hand, for striking Sūnder had been remanded into her father’s custody until they returned to Slorèx. However, as she had met Akirá and Ronan at the River Walk after the sentencing, Dömini Koi had obviously failed to keep her under control, and Tālia would be brought before the council for punishment.

  Válora covered Ronan’s fist, her expression full of understanding. “King Valiant needs to soothe the human leaders. The attack on Sūnder and his guards at the park was an unprecedented event. With so many hurt and killed in the middle of the city, we need to show a united front, especially since there are rumors that a civil war is brewing between L’fÿns and Panthrÿns. The human leaders are concerned for their citizens, not only those who already live on Slorèx, but also the mate-seekers attending the Festival this year.

  “We have disputed the claim that our people are on the edge of war, but have also acknowledged that there is tension among the L’fÿns. The human leaders are already aware L’fÿns hold an extreme prejudice against the male faeborn. The L’fÿn noble houses are scrambling to win back the human favoritism, since all the videos show L’fÿns to be the aggressors. That was the first concrete dose the human population had of how far the L’fÿn bias runs, and polls show sympathies have swayed toward Panthrÿns. Gabe and Sūnder have become very popular with the general populace. The headlines have been filled with the ‘fated lovers’, equating their relationship to—and I don’t really understand this term—a fairytale romance. They need to make an appearance to alleviate concerns that they were harmed by the attack.”

  Gabe looked shell-shocked. “I hadn’t realized things had become so complicated. I feel as if I should apologize for something, but Sūnder and I did nothing wrong.”

  “Neither of you hold any blame in this, Gabe. Please don’t worry.” Válora gifted him with one of the maternal smiles Sūnder knew all too well. It said she would fight for him, for them, if the need arose.

  Someone at one of the circular tables rose from their seat and approached. Although dark of skin, he was lighter than Ronan, and freckles liberally covered his face. His tightly curled hair was cut to about half an inch, and his dark eyes took in everything about Gabe, then Sūnder, as he approached.

  Gabe sat up straighter, eyes narrowing distrustfully. Sūnder could feel Gabe’s unease and tried to dispel it by squeezing Gabe’s hand. But the action was for naught because the male—a guardian, if Sūnder remembered correctly—addressed him instead of Válora, who held the highest status.

  “Sūnder, I was hoping you had some time later to speak with me about the incident at the park. We have all heard you were severely poisoned, and are of the understanding that the Jade Forest may hold similar or the same toxins. And I wondered—”

  Válora made a noise, interrupting the overeager guardian and drawing his attention. He shuffled his feet under Válora’s hard stare, a look Sūnder had seen her direct at many a courtier. Even he knew how uncomfortable it was to be the recipient of that expression, since he’d been on the receiving end once or thrice when he’d been younger.

  “Only cubs are allowed to approach the high table at dinner time and not receive a reprimand for the interruption. This is my table, and these are my guests, whom I have served from my larder. You and your companions would do well to learn the customs of the planet you shall soon call home. After the meal you are only allowed to approach another when all servingware has been taken away. If you are new or unknown to the house, you introduce yourself to all who are seated, beginning with the person holding the highest status. You always use titles unless you are invited otherwise. To use another’s given name implies intimacy, and the recipient’s mate could take offense and challenge you to three rounds on the mats. As wrestling is our national sport and many grow up playing the game, I expect you are likely to be bested.”

  The guardian’s cheeks flushed bright under Válora’s dressing-down and he looked ready to flee, but judging by the way Válora held herself, she wasn’t finished.

  “What is your name, young cub?”

  Sūnder flinched for the guardian, who had no clue he’d just been relegated to a child’s social class.

  “I’m Guardian Gaelin Inchel, ma’am.”

  She frowned. “I am not ma’am. I am Princess Válora.”

  The guardian swallowed audibly. “My apologies, Princess Válora.”

  Behind Gaelin, his companions were shifting uncomfortably. Perhaps this example Válora was setting would get the point across. Hopefully they wouldn’t forget it, and would educate the other immigrants when they arrived.

  Válora’s gaze swept the room. “I do understand you are new to our ways. However, though some things will be similar to what you know, there is much that is not. You would all do well to educate yourselves before we return to Slorèx. Never address someone yet ignore their mate. It is rude, and the equivalent of a slap in the face. Use your noses. If someone carries the scent of another, they are claimed and their mate has the right to challenge you for recompense. The deeper the transgression, the more costly it is to you in money, status, or an old-fashioned tail-dragging around the mat before your peers.”

  Gaelin’s eyes grew wide and he glanced at Gabe, whose neutral expression didn’t reveal his agitation. Sūnder could smell it though, and so would Válora. How the guardian could miss the sharp, acrid tang was beyond Sūnder.

  “For those of you who don’t understand what tail-dragging is, it is where the offending Panthrÿn gets down on their hands and knees and allows the person they’ve offended to drag them around the arena by their tail while reciting the offense. It’s very painful and humiliating but doesn’t have any lasting physical effects. In your case, since you don’t have a tail, your hair would suffice.”

  After glancing at Gaelin’s chagrinned expression, Válora sighed. “Now, young cub, I would like to finish my meal before it is completely cold. I would suggest that if you are truly interested in what happened in the park, you should speak to Prince Consort Gabriel St. Baptista because he is the one who saved my son’s life, not once but twice.”

  Gaelin turned to Gabe, his wide eyes hinting at his inner embarrassment. “My apologies, Gabe, I—”

  Válora’s eyes narrowed, and for the first time her voice dripped with anger. “If you and your companions wish to keep the throne’s favor, you would do well not to snub Prince Consort Gabriel again. Your people may have abandoned him, but the Bálsari and Alārd households are not so ignorant. When we return home the claims shall be made official, and permanent, with the exchange of blood. Now return to your seat.”

  Gaelin didn’t argue, only mumbled a hasty although seemingly sincere apology before hastening across the room to his table as if his feet were on fire.

  It was the first Sūnder had heard of Gabe being accepted by both his mother’s and father’s family lines. Sūnder blinked in surprise, then looked down at where he clasped Gabe’s white knuckled hand, gathering his thoughts. He knew Válora adored Gabe for saving him, but to give him
her name was no laughing matter. It was so rarely done that it happened only a few times each century. Then there was the title of Prince Consort, which normally wasn’t given until Sūnder petitioned the court. But their acceptance also meant Gabe would carry both Válora’s and Valiant’s surnames. Sūnder couldn’t even recall the last time that had happened.

  Sūnder leaned into Gabe for comfort at the unexpected changes and heard Gabe’s breath hitch. Válora had claimed Gabe’s other hand, her large blue eyes so much like ice mere moments ago staring at Sūnder’s mate with adoration.

  “Valiant and I were going to tell you both at the Festival tomorrow night, but it was only appropriate others be made aware since they aren’t attending any of the functions.” She brushed Gabe’s hair back affectionately. “I hope we didn’t overstep too much.”

  “The title—” Gabe protested.

  Válora shushed him. “Is appropriate. You claimed Sūnder, and he, you, did you not?” She paused for Gabe to nod. “When it comes to family, we do not stand on ceremony in Chándaria. You and Sūnder are a mated pair and therefore share lands, moneys, and titles. It is our way.”

  Gabe brushed a kiss against Válora’s cheek, causing her to smile with no small amount of pride.

  “I’ve made something special for desert. You must tell me what you think.” With a wave of a hand, she summoned a server who cleared the dinner plates and set the table for the final course.