“Planning to torture me?”
“Worse. You’re going to meet my mother.”
Eight
He should have known she’d laugh.
“Holy shit, you’re a mama’s boy.”
Thyos didn’t grasp the meaning but assumed it was an insult. “You might wish to curb your mirth and more inflammatory remarks. My mother isn’t going to be happy about your presence.” Especially since he’d not given her any warning he’d found his sykyrah. A human.
“And do you always do what your mama tells you to do?” Clarabelle mocked.
“My mother only has my best interests at heart.” But she would also be thinking of her own, how his mating with a barbarian would appear. That reminder had him saying, “She will probably try to kill you.”
Belle coughed. “Seriously? And am I allowed to kill her back?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. My sisters might take offense.”
“Sisters? How many do you have?”
“Too many,” he grumbled. Three who’d somehow not succumbed when the plague ripped through their planet decimating the female population.
“If they come after me, I will put them in their place,” she warned.
“Do what you must. I can hardly blame my sykyrah for defending herself.”
She blinked. “Hold on a second. Is your sudden interest in me solely because you want to rebel against your mommy?”
“No.” He leaned down close to whisper by her ear. “I am interested because I think burying myself into you will be like finding nirvana.”
She couldn’t hide the heat flushing her body, and the scent of her… Oh, the scent told him everything he needed to know.
He kept walking, and it took her a moment to join him, silent and glancing at him. As they stood before his home, the grandness of it looming overhead, she tilted her head back. “This is where you live?”
“Yes.
“Jeezus, it’s a freaking castle.”
Having researched her kind, he understood why she would name it so. It sprawled with turrets and crenellations, but it was much more delicate than the blocky examples on Earth.
The door opened at their approach. Someone must have been watching.
He knew better than to try and stand in front of Belle, blocking any immediate danger. For one, she wouldn’t appreciate it, and for another, his mother wouldn’t respect Belle if she thought her too weak to defend herself.
Stepping over the threshold, she appeared interested in the architecture, which must have irritated his mother to no end, given she stood at the top of the staircase, hand on the hilt of her blade. Did Belle do so on purpose to not notice her? Or was she truly obliv—
Belle barely moved, and yet it was enough for the thrown dagger to sail harmlessly past. Despite the attack, she didn’t look over her shoulder but rather pointed to the large piece of art hanging on the wall. “Pretty.”
“A local artist painted it with the blood of the animals he caught in that very valley pictured.” The reds were still vivid after all this time, and the use of the darker ochre from the wildlife provided texture and contrast.
“And the green?”
“Came from the flesh-based plants. I should mention it’s not recommended you sleep in that valley at night unless you don’t mind waking up as a pile of bones.”
“I doubt I’ll be here long enough to go exploring.” She finally whirled but still ignored his mother, who glared.
“What is this?” his mother growled.
“Mother. How nice of you to be here.” He smiled in the face of her laser glare.
“Of course, I’m here. I live here. Who is this?” No politeness in the barked query.
“My sykyrah,” he declared and got to see his mother’s nostrils flaring.
“But she’s alien!” his mother huffed.
“That’s what I said.” Finally, Belle chose to acknowledge his mother’s presence. “Trust me, I’m not keen on it either. Maybe you can talk some sense into him because he’s all like, fate this, goddess that, and I’m like, dude, you and I”—she swirled a finger back and forth between them— “are from two different worlds.”
“Very different,” his mother stated, coming down the stairs. “What are you?”
“Human. And before you ask, no tail. No snake at all in my lineage.”
“You appear weak.”
“And your aim is shit,” Belle said with a shrug.
“How dare you—”
His mother blinked as the knife soared too fast for either of them to move, slicing past her face, a single lock of hair drifting down to feather the floor.
“Let me know if you’d like lessons.” Belle turned and strode off, peering into doorways, disappearing into the one for the food preparation area.
“She’s rude,” his mother huffed.
“Very.”
“Talented with a knife, though.”
The praise surprised him. “She was raised by Zonians.”
“Really? How interesting,” she mused aloud. “When is the bonding occurring?”
The rapid change had him blinking and looking for a reply. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll need a few days, first to contact your sisters that they might return in time and also to prepare the party.”
“Don’t start planning yet. The bond might not happen.”
“Excuse me? What did you say?” His mother turned to eye him, and he did his best not to fidget.
“Belle hasn’t agreed yet.”
“She is your sykyrah.”
“Yes, but—”
“There is no but. It is fate.”
“She doesn’t believe in fate.”
His mother was silent a moment then shook her head. “She can’t escape it.”
“Is that why you’re not arguing about the fact she’s not from our world?”
“Why would I argue? She’s strong. And goddess chosen. Can you imagine the children you will have?”
His mother seemed too agreeable. Was she so desperate for him to settle down she’d truly accept Belle as his mate?
Then again, he’d come around quick enough to the idea. Seeing her again—smelling her and hearing her—he couldn’t wait for her to become his bride.
Nine
Clarabelle wouldn’t have admitted it aloud, but Thyos had a really nice castle. House. Whatever he wanted to call it. It rocked with its nice things and big rooms. It had more than enough windows to let in sunshine with views of a green garden that she wanted to stroll. She felt so much at home that she even wondered for a moment if maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad.
Sure, his mother had tried to kill her, but she understood that kind of aggression after being with the Zonians for a few years.
She had a prickling awareness she wasn’t alone.
“You like the garden?” Thyos’s voice came from behind her.
She ran her fingers over the soft leaves of a flowering plant. “It’s beautiful.”
“If there is a particular color you’d like to see, you just have to inform me, and I can have it ordered for planting.”