Jessica let go of my hand, and before I could stop her she was racing down the stairs and out the lower door onto the arena floor. I leapt over the low stone wall to land in the soft sand and followed her, ensuring no one would dare harm her. Nial would protect her and so would I.
She ran, her dress like a liquid flame behind her, and threw herself in Nial’s arms as the crowd roared. I watched it all with a grin. That was my mate, my family, and they were safe for another day.
And I didn’t even have to kill anyone to keep it that way.
I thought everything was fine, until two men dragged the dead body away and Nial stood alone in the center of the arena as the chanting began.
“Claiming! Claiming! Claiming!”
The crowd was not leaving, and Jessica’s devotion to Nial worked against us as she clung to him for all to see.
Two hundred years ago, when the first Deston ruler challenged for the throne and won, he and his second had fucked his queen on the arena floor, claiming her for all to see.
Tradition demanded Nial and I claim Jessica here and now, in front of the whole world, for those not seated here watched from home, or on the view screens aboard their battleships in deep space as the duel had been broadcast live across the planet and to all known battle groups in space.
Nial had just killed a man in front of billions. And now his people wanted to see the grand finale.
Chapter Fourteen
Jessica
I threw myself into Nial’s arms and he lifted me off my feet for a kiss. I could hear the crowd cheer at the bold sight. I felt all of his adrenaline, all of his power flow through the collars and into the kiss.
When he placed me back on my feet, he stroked my hair back from my face. “You feared for me, mate?”
I shook my head and looked into his one golden, one silver eye. “Never.”
“Good girl,” he replied.
I felt Ander at my back, my men surrounding me. I did not worry for the crowd, for I knew the two of them would defend me from every single one of them. I was safe. Nial was safe. We were together. But not quite…
Claiming. Claiming. Claiming. The chant filled the air and a look I knew well settled deep in Nial’s eyes. Lust. Love. Desire. It was all there.
“I must be claimed,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
Ander slid my hair over my shoulder and he lowered his head to kiss my neck and then lower still to my collar as Nial spoke.
“We are connected by the collars, but the bond is not complete. We must both fuck you. Together.” I saw the need on Nial’s face, felt it through the collar, but I sensed also the seriousness behind this requirement.
“Right now?”
“Yes, mate. Right now, in this arena. In front of the entire world.”
Holy shit. I turned in his arms, scanning the faces in the crowd. They were not looking upon us with glee or malice, but with a seriousness that made my knees feel weak. “Why?”
Ander spoke from behind me. “In a normal claiming ceremony, the primary mate chooses his closest brothers to bear witness to the act and swear allegiance and protection to his bride.”
I bit my lip, remembering the chanting I’d heard during the processing center’s simulation. The male voices surrounding me and their chorus of May the gods witness and protect you.
Nial lifted his hand to my cheek, holding my gaze when I felt like running. “I am now Prime. King of this world. The entire planet honors and respects our family above all others. They all wish the honor of bearing witness to your claiming, of swearing their oath to serve and protect you.”
“Oh, God.” I leaned into his hand and tried to remember to breathe. This wasn’t just fucking for pleasure. It was a sacred act, a bonding that joined me to both Nial and Ander permanently, in front of a billion witnesses.
This was what it meant to be a queen on Prillon. I thought back to my idea of being a princess, to fancy dresses and high-heeled shoes, to ballroom dancing with a perfect, handsome prince. This was nothing like that fantasy. This was me and my mates, raw and dirty and fucking on the ground in front of the entire planet.
I imagined the people’s faces as they watched us fuck, imagined them running home as quickly as possible to alleviate their own needs. I imagined the women closing their eyes with pleasure as they heard my screams, and the men, the warriors in the crowd admiring my body and my breasts, envying my mates as they filled me. The idea made my pulse race and my pussy grow wet.
Maybe I was meant to be the queen of Prillon after all.
Once Nial and Ander claimed me, once my collar changed color to match their deep, royal red, there would be no question, no doubt in anyone’s mind that we were the royal family, that Nial was mine, that Ander was mine. And I belonged to them.