Zul walked alongside the hoverwagon. He had declined her offer to sit beside her, stating that doing so was neither proper nor advantageous. She argued he’d have a better view of anything threatening coming at them, but he merely replied that he would rely on her keen eyes to alert them of any danger. He’d be best able to defend them on the ground. Ursula opened her mouth to refute that claim, then said nothing and picked up the reins. Having never been permitted to drive the team before that day, she was nervous about it, but the plodding beasts knew the way back home and headed inexorably to their shared destination.
During the ride, Ursula ruminated on her untoward reaction to the hulking berserker. She knew he’d scented her arousal and was mortified. She reasoned that she hadn’t acted on it, so she hadn’t actually betrayed her mates. However, it puzzled her that she’d felt her core grow slick and heated when she’d had no such response to any male who was not part of her triad since having mated them. Why now, and why this particular male who was obviously a loner, an unbonded berserker? She felt guilty, as though she had actually cheated on Bran and Gil.
She wished Bran and Gil were home so she could talk with them. She dreaded their disappointment in her, but knew that Bran would appreciate her honor in not acting upon that desire and that Gil would explain what was happening. Bran always brought out the best in her, and Gil always took the time to ensure she understood what was going on. A tear gathered in her eye, and she wiped it away, for she still missed her son’s namesake, Crow, the burly berserker whose fiery nature brought outthe passion in hers. Bran was honor, Gil was intellect, and Crow was emotion. Without him, they all felt bereft, less than whole.
Ursula glanced at Zul, who walked without speaking beside the numpties. The stoic animals plodded inexorably toward the mansion where the lords of Fangrys lived when the Urib government hadn’t deployed them on practically suicidal missions. She was glad the Council Supreme hadn’t managed to decimate what was left of her beloved warrior triad. She knew if either Gil or Bran died, the Urib government would take her away from her one remaining mate and give her to another intact triad. A fertile female was too valuable to waste.
In defiance of what little she understood of biology, she would not and could not conceive another child except by a bonded triad. Somehow in the process of being converted on a cellular basis into a human-Urib hybrid and mating to a warrior triad, her body had adapted and would only accept the seed of three bonded males. Ursula didn’t understand the technicalities of how or why that worked, she simply accepted it.I’m an event planner, not a biologist. And she wondered if her attraction to Zul meant her bond to Bran and Gil was weakening. That thought made her worry.
Crow wakened when the hoverwagon eased to a halt, the numpties belching their desire to be unharnessed and fed. The surviving member of the castrati who had accompanied her to town stood waiting, his arm bandaged and confined in a sling and both legs wrapped in bandages.
“Suvesh!” she cried out, hurling herself from the hoverwagon.
Zul dashed around to catch her, making sure she landed gently on her feet before releasing her to greet her servant.
“Are you all right?” she asked, seeing his collection of bandages. Then, to the castratus’ mortification, she hugged him. “Oh, I’m sogladyou’re alive!”
The servant closed his eyes and endured the enthusiastic embrace and the subsequent noisy outpouring of grief for those who’d given their lives for her and Crow. He exchanged a pained glance with the stoic berserker who’d escorted their mistress home.
Wiping her teary eyes and runny nose on the already soiled and crumpled handkerchief, Ursula finally stepped back to allow the servant to restore his composure and dignity. “Youmusttake time off to heal, Suvesh. I can’t have you working when you’re injured.”
The servant gaped in astonishment. “It is my honor to serve you, Prima. Who shall ensure the operation of the household and the well-being of Master Crow if I am not there to do it?”
She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Oh, Suvesh, you have everyone so well trained that they can run the household perfectly fine for a few days—or even a few weeks—if you need that long. You know how much I rely on you!”
The castratus bowed his head and clasped his hands in prayerful fashion. With a low bow, he said, “Prima, I shall see you and Master Crow settled then take the rest of the day to recuperate.”
Ursula wiped her eyes and sniffled. “You must at least take the rest of theweek. Have your second-in-command organize a memorial for those castrati lost today. We must honor their memories and ensure their families receive appropriate support.”
Suvesh cocked his head to one side. “They were castrati. They did not have mates.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “But they were all sons and brothers. Their families must be notified if they haven’t been already and given the opportunity to mourn their loss properly.”
Suvesh’s eyes bugged, then he composed himself again. Bowing his head, he said, “You are most gracious, Prima.”
She gave him a watery smile. “It’s the least I can do. I’m sure Bran and Gil would do the same if they were here.”
The castratus was entirely certain the warriors would not. The harsh world in which they lived did not encourage sentimentality. However, their hybrid Prima had strange notions and equally strange customs that puzzled many of the Urib servants. As none of those notions and customs created true hardship for any of them, the Fangrys Triad’s castrati accepted them with an indulgent sort of tolerance.
After reaching out to clasp the servant’s hand and give it a quick squeeze of affection, Ursula excused herself and turnedback to the hoverwagon to fetch her son who stood beside the hulking wanderer. Zul held the quivering boy in place with a heavy hand on the child’s shoulder. Seeing that the Prima was ready to reclaim her son, he lifted his hand. Without casting a glance at the castratus hobbling away, Crow raced to his mother. Zul rather thought the youngster would need to be broken of that habit soon. The son of a warrior triad should not cling to a female for safety and reassurance.
Ursula embraced her child then instructed him to go with the other castratus—ostensibly Suvesh’s second-in-command—who lurked nearby. She fixed the servant’s gaze with her own and said, “Hurvi will see to your bath and supper. Be good and do as he bids you, sweetheart.”
The golden-hued child’s eyes flashed with rebellion, then he sighed and said in a quiet voice, “Yes, Mama.”
Observing the interaction, Zul approved of the boy’s obedience to his mother’s instructions. It would be a long time before the golden-hued male earned the rank and respect of leadership.
Ursula pressed a kiss to Crow’s head and sent him on his way. Turning again to Hurvi, she said, “Please see that Zul is given every courtesy. He is our honored guest for as long as he wishes to stay. In fact,” she added in a louder voice, “I am sure Bran and Gil will wish to speak with him themselves when they return.”
Hurvi nodded, understanding the Prima’s expectation that the vagrant berserker would be a long-term guest. One hand clasping the boy’s, he gestured with the other hand for the berserker to follow yet another servant standing nearby. From the corner of his eye, Zul saw two more servants lead the numpties away, presumably to their stable. He fell into step behind the castratus and, entering the manor, gazed at the magnificence in which the Prima of Fangrys lived.
Beautiful ceramics—obviously the Prima’s skilled handiwork—decorated many niches throughout the building. Tapestries, brightly colored and finely woven, dressed the stone walls. Gleaming wood railings and floors contrasted with the smooth stone walls. Cut glass sconces placed at regular intervalscomplemented the intricate chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, all casting warm light throughout rooms and corridors that would otherwise have been gloomy and dark. Tall, narrow windows cut into the thick stone walls admitted long planks of sunlight. Shutters were thrown open, so a refreshing breeze wafted through the building.
“This suite is yours while you remain with us,” the castratus said and bowed. “We are grateful for your assistance and for saving the lives of our Prima and her son. If there is anything you require, simply ask and you shall receive it.”
Zul felt heat suffuse him at the catratus’ simple and profound gratitude. A second later, he recognized it as embarrassment. He bowed his head in gracious acknowledgement of the servant’s words. He felt as though he ought to bow to the servant, but to do so would have shocked the castratus—and the poor male had endured more than enough that day as it was.
“I shall stay to ensure the Prima and her son’s safety until her mates return,” he stated.
