Page 2

"That is tragic news," the white centaur who escorted us states gravely. "Crystal had the finest ass of any of you."

The stallions around us laugh as my colleagues protest indignantly. Several centaurs dispute the captain's statement, exchanging flirty remarks with my colleagues in comfortable rapport.

King Idris chuckles but offers no opinion on whose ass is most appealing. "I see. If it is not inappropriate to pass him a message, please tell Crystal that we all wish him well and will miss him greatly. Now, what does our bright-eyed new mare call himself?"

The Centaur King's dark eyes meet mine. I try not to crane my neck awkwardly as I give him a coy smile.

"My name is Kitten. I'm honored to be here, Your Majesty," I purr. It's not the most original working name, but I like it.

"We are the ones honored by your trust, little Kitten. You are most welcome." The king inclines his head politely. He has a strong baritone voice, calm and self-assured. It isn't hard to see why my colleagues say his name with hearts in their eyes.

Then again, they may be swooning over the king's power and authority more than anything else. It's not like there's a shortage of sexy stallions. Between the stern-faced Captain Daddy, the silver-fox king, and the dozen other handsome centaurs in the room, they're all appealing. Personally, I would find it impossible to pick a fav —

Ringing hoofbeats interrupt my train of thought. Several new centaurs enter the room…and one of them claims my attention immediately.

He has a beautiful dun coat — golden brown with dark legs. His long hair is pulled into a cascading ponytail that matches his sleek, black tail. Fan-shaped turquoise earrings frame his proud, powerful features: high cheekbones, a broad nose, and full lips. The tantalizing section of his chest exposed by the low V of his sea-green tunic is a rich, earthy brown with warm copper undertones.

He's fucking gorgeous. The longer I drink him in, the more heat and interest simmer under my skin.

I watch the golden-brown stallion with fascination as he crosses the room. He bows to the king, then turns to us with friendly curiosity. His gaze tracks over our group. My heart speeds up. Warm brown eyes catch mine.

The moment hangs suspended, like a singer holding a note for as long as they have breath. A slow, delighted smile spreads across his handsome face. My growing grin mirrors it.

King Idris repeats his question pointedly. The gorgeous centaur shakes himself as he turns back to the king, breaking eye contact. Time resumes moving forward.

I nudge Blake and lower my voice. "Who is that? Talking to the king right now?"

"Oh, the dun guy with the earrings?" Blake's tone is too casual for describing someone so stunning. "I don't remember his name. I think he's one of the king's council or advisers or something."

My heart hasn't slowed; I still feel each hopeful beat. "Does he attend the orgies?"

Blake shrugs. "Usually, yeah."

So…there's a chance he won't. Fuck.

More centaurs fill the room, navigating around staff preparing for the party. I tell myself not to steal glances at the golden-brown centaur. When I do, I find him looking my way. His smile as we catch each other staring is boldly unapologetic. It stirs the embers of heat in my core.

King Idris raises his hand. That's all it takes for the herd's eager chattering and flirting to cease.

"Welcome. I hope you are all looking forward to an enjoyable evening. I do have one important announcement to make," King Idris intones. "As those of you who saw the course being prepared will have guessed, the Order of Stud will be determined by a race. However, although I will attend the party as your host, I will not be participating in the usual activities tonight."

Surprised murmurs ripple through the herd around us. The sound fades as the Centaur King calmly raises his hand again. "Therefore, as I am abdicating my Right of First Stud for tonight's event only, the winner of today's race will not be the Second Stud as usual. He will instead be named our First Stud — and will earn the right to select the First Mare."

The centaurs' stunned murmurs crescendo. Blake whisper-shouts in my ear. "He's never done that before! I wonder why?"

I shrug. I have no way to judge whether this is good or not. I glance at the golden-brown centaur to gauge his reaction. He's looking at me again. He winks.

Fizziness bubbles in my chest like champagne. I casually shift my weight to strike a pose, displaying my best assets. The centaur's warm smile becomes a smirk that promises trouble.

I now understand my colleagues' repeated claims that centaurs are charming as hell. I'm only here to be well-bred and well-paid, but…there's no harm in picking a favorite, is there?

Excitement pulses like electricity, starting in my stomach and radiating to my fingertips. I flex my hands to release the jittery energy.

Ohhh, I am very ready for tonight.

Chapter Two

As my colleagues have explained, there's always a contest to determine the Order of Stud. Typically, the king holds the Right of First Stud, so King Idris plus the top five winners are the Six Studs — one for each of us "mares."