The door opened and two males entered, one tall, slender, and officious looking and the other obviously a servant. Still fulminating, Ursula turned her attention toward them and forcedherself to speak in a polite tone, “Welcome, Mayor. How may I help you?”
The male in charge turned his thin face to her, frowning at her for having the audacity to speak to him directly.
Ursula sniffed. “Get over yourself. Gil and Bran aren’t here, so you’ll just have to speak to me directly.”
Zul stepped forward, drawing himself as tall and imposing as possible, which wasvery. While he’d enjoyed tweaking the lovely female’s temper, the mayor’s dismissive attitude toward her irritated him. So, he took charge. “In the absence of her mates, I will represent the Prima of Fangrys.”
Ursula’s indrawn hiss of outrage gratified him. He interposed himself between the female and the mayor.
“And who are you?” the mayor inquired, his gaze taking in Zul’s dusty, mended clothes and dismissing him as unimportant.
Once again, Zul identified himself. “I am Zullar cen’Gyrah, Third of the Uk’khadir Triad.”
The mayor’s eyes widened in surprise even as his servant muttered, “The hero of Horwill’an!”
Zul loathed that appellation. It reminded him of the day his bonded had been killed in battle.
The mayor’s expression conveyed his disappointment. He expected more from an illustrious hero than worn boots, clothing near to rags, and scarred horns that needed a good polishing. “And how do we know you speak the truth?”
Zul growled. The menacing sound made Gallick squeak and flee. A sweet bouquet rose in the air from the beauty behind him. His growl lowered, nearly becoming a purr at the fragrance of her arousal. The mayor’s expression soured further, although whether at scenting Ursula’s physical response to a mighty male equal to her mates or at the warrior’s own affront, only he knew.
“The Prima will close this shop and remain home until I am assured no other rosvoi are in the areaandher mates return to provide proper escort,” the mayor intoned.
“This ismyshop, and you can’t close it!” Ursula protested. “I have broken no law!”
The mayor met Zul’s black eyes with a supercilious glare. Apparently, he expected an itinerant wanderer to exert authority over a high caste female mated to two highborn warriors. “The female is impertinent.”
Zul nodded. He turned to command the female’s attention.
“What?” she snapped, upper lip lifting in a sneer.
The contempt in her voice raised his ire, but he forced calm upon himself. “Prima, do you require the income from this business?”
She began to shake her head, then caught herself and protested, “It’smine.”
The youngling whimpered and buried his face in the folds of her skirts. Zul gave her a steady, unblinking look. A rosy flush brightened her cheeks as she averted her gaze and stroked her son’s head. The change of color fascinated him, and he wondered what it meant. Was it a common trait of human-Urib hybrids? Or was it special to humans only? Did her skin flush that wonderful rosy color when she orgasmed? He wanted to find out. Zul clenched his fists again, and his tail twitched.
He turned around once again to address the mayor. “We will finish unpacking her wares, then I will escort the Prima and her son home. Contact the sheriff to inform him Fangrys need not send a new escort.”
Zul caught the small, inarticulate sound of rage in her throat but knew she would not defy him. Her compliance satisfied something deep within him. It settled him—at least for the moment. He practically heard her consider a delaying tactic: making the unpacking and display of her wares take all day.
“Do not tarry,” the mayor said as if he’d heard her thoughts, too. “I will send the sheriff to accompany you and ensure their safe delivery home.”
Zul nodded, acknowledging the mayor’s distrust. An unbonded warrior, especially a berserker, did not deserve wholehearted trust. They were too unstable, too prone to devolving into mindless violence and brutality.
“Glory to your house, Zullar cen’Gyrah,” the mayor intoned with a nod.
“And prosperity to yours,” Zul replied politely.
Chapter 4
Ursula fumed as she and Zul finished unpacking her pottery and displaying each piece to its best advantage. He silently endured her curt tone and obeyed her snapped instructions. His false meekness made her feel guilty. She’d been ungracious and shown a distressing lack of gratitude for his service, but she was too angry to apologize. Bran and Gil were so solicitous of her preferences and so willing and quick to run interference for her that she’d stupidly forgotten the reality of living in a culture where females had only privileges, not rights. Ursula couldn’t deny that she’d grown accustomed to being prized, coddled, and indulged by her mates, but she forced herself to acknowledge that they allowed her a high level of privilege and autonomy few other women received.
It almost made her wish she’d never answered that employment advertisement. Almost. If she hadn’t loved her mates so much, then the sacrifice of freedom wouldn’t have been worth it.
After displaying her wares, Zul returned the crates to the hoverwagon. He handed Ursula up into the driver’s seat. When she settled, he lifted Crow and set him beside her. She slapped the lines against the numpties’ broad backs. The lumbering beasts obliged by plodding forward. Addilli, catchingsight of the passing hoverwagon as she wiped down a table, waved at them through the window.
Ursula glanced down at Crow cuddled against her, snoring. The excitement of the day had exhausted her baby. After transferring the reins to one hand, she lowered her empty hand to her son’s head and stroked it, her fingers pausing to gently rub the base of his pedicels. Crow found the touch soothing. A numpty tossed its head, long ears flopping, so Ursula transferred its reins back to her other hand. The numpty settled back into its customary plod with a grunt.
