“And then there’s cake,” Gil added.
“Cake?”
Gil explained, “A confection from Earth. It comes in different flavors and varies in texture. Ursula prefers one flavor called chocolate. She says it makes her happy.”
Zul was skeptical. “Does it really?”
“She certainly enjoys it, so Gil ensures we import it,” Bran said. “Such treats are small enough indulgences to help keep her content with her exile.”
“Exile?” Zul echoed.
“Humans have barely ventured into space,” Gil explained. “They are bound to their planet. Coming here, for her, was a terrible banishment from home that she did nothing to deserve. We wish to make her life here pleasant and preferable to returning to Earth.”
“Even though she cannot return?”
“Even though she cannot return,” Bran said. “An unhappy mate would make for a miserable existence.”
Zul could understand the logic of that and wondered if Ursula understood the vast power she wielded over them.
Catching the unvoiced thought through their mental connection, Bran answered, “If she does, she does not abuse that power, just as we do not abuse our authority over her.”
“That balance is crucial to her well-being and ours,” Gil said.
“This is a good discussion,” Bran said, laying his hands flat on the desk. “Gil and I must depart the day after tomorrow, so we will be leaving our mate in your care.”
Gil ran a palm along the curl of one silvery horn. “We should refresh ourselves. It is nearly time for supper.”
Zul took the hint and rose from the chair. He shut the book and returned it to the shelf, careful not to damage it with his claws or through rough handling. Musing on what he’d learned about their hybrid mate as he followed Bran and Gil from the room, he realized he had more in common with Ursula than he originally thought and vowed to allow her all the freedoms he had never been granted until his Prime and Second had perished in battle. Ursula, he understood, had gone from freedom to captivity—luxurious and gentle captivity, but captivity nonetheless. Having been a captive, figuratively speaking, with few freedoms and little luxury, he had no desire to impose that burden upon his mate.
Chapter 11
They ate a light supper. None of them wished to go through the Rite of First Taste or the Rite of First Union logy from full bellies. Casting the occasional nervous glance at Zul, Ursula drank an extra glass of wine, thinking she’d need to beveryrelaxed to accommodate him.
They retreated to the central bedchamber in what Ursula thought of as the marital suite. From this central chamber with its enormous bed radiated an equally spacious bathing room and four more suites, one en suite bedchamber for each of them. After completing the Right of First Union which would finish the process of joining their souls, Zul would move from his guest quarters to occupy the space formerly occupied by Crow. She wondered if the castrati had cleaned it and cleared it of Crow’s presence and felt guilty for not ensuring that task was already taken care of.
The chamber is prepared, Gil murmured reassurance in her mind as they walked toward the master suite. Young Crow had been dismissed to Suvesh’s care in the nursery.
Ursula’s heart clenched. It had been years since Crow’s death, yet she still missed him terribly. A piece of her soul had died with him.
Zul will fill your heart and complete your soul, Gil promised. He reached out to stroke her hair.
Zul saw the comforting gesture and paused. The others stopped, too. Zul dared touch her shoulder with his fingertip, careful not to snag the fabric of her dress on his claw, and asked, “Are you reluctant?”
Perhaps it was the wine, but Ursula found her tongue loosen. She took a deep breath and said, “I do not fear you will harm me, Zul. But I miss Crow and do not wish to forget him. You cannot replace him.”
Zul did not visibly flinch, but she felt the twinge of pain through their mental connection. “I know I cannot replace him.”
After a pause, he turned away.
Appalled that she’d hurt him, Ursula reached out and touched his arm. He went still.
“I’m sorry, Zul. I mean no disrespect. It’s just that… that… he…”
“You loved him and you do not love me,” he stated plainly. He swallowed his disappointment. “We need not complete the ritual tonight.”
“Ursula, you did not love us when we first claimed you,” Bran reminded her, his reproof gentle. “Yet you did come to love us, did you not?”
She hung her head. “Yes.”
