for a reply. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll need a few days, first to contact your sisters that they might return in time and also to prepare the party.”
“Don’t start planning yet. The bond might not happen.”
“Excuse me? What did you say?” His mother turned to eye him, and he did his best not to fidget.
“Belle hasn’t agreed yet.”
“She is your sykyrah.”
“Yes, but—”
“There is no but. It is fate.”
“She doesn’t believe in fate.”
His mother was silent a moment then shook her head. “She can’t escape it.”
“Is that why you’re not arguing about the fact she’s not from our world?”
“Why would I argue? She’s strong. And goddess chosen. Can you imagine the children you will have?”
His mother seemed too agreeable. Was she so desperate for him to settle down she’d truly accept Belle as his mate?
Then again, he’d come around quick enough to the idea. Seeing her again—smelling her and hearing her—he couldn’t wait for her to become his bride.
Nine
Clarabelle wouldn’t have admitted it aloud, but Thyos had a really nice castle. House. Whatever he wanted to call it. It rocked with its nice things and big rooms. It had more than enough windows to let in sunshine with views of a green garden that she wanted to stroll. She felt so much at home that she even wondered for a moment if maybe staying wouldn’t be so bad.
Sure, his mother had tried to kill her, but she understood that kind of aggression after being with the Zonians for a few years.
She had a prickling awareness she wasn’t alone.
“You like the garden?” Thyos’s voice came from behind her.
She ran her fingers over the soft leaves of a flowering plant. “It’s beautiful.”
“If there is a particular color you’d like to see, you just have to inform me, and I can have it ordered for planting.”
“Isn’t this your mother’s domain?”
“My mother thinks it is a waste of time.” He swept his hand. “She thinks I am odd for bringing home different clippings and making them grow.”
The admission startled. “Wait, this is your garden?” She eyed him, this big warrior man who admitted to liking flowers.
“Growing plants is my hobby when I’m not doing other stuff.”
“I don’t have a hobby. Not anymore.” On Earth, makeup, boys, and meeting up at the local fast food joint were her thing. The Zonians only believed in work. No play.
“In our society, it is recommended to have a pastime that is calming. Some choose to follow the culinary arts, others crafting or painting.”
“And you grow flowers.” She traced the delicate pink edge of a bloom that shivered. The incongruity of it had her whirling to face him. It was strange how she no longer saw his bronze skin as so different. Rather more exotic, especially against the lush backdrop.
What she liked less was the tingles she felt. Arousal for him, and after she’d said no sex.
“I am capable of many things.” He purred the words, and she shivered.
To her surprise, they spent the day together as he performed his job as leader. He was respected by his people, who eyed her askance but said nothing.
He proved himself that day to be not only possessed of a green thumb but handy with tools as he helped with some repairs. Smart as he dealt with folks needing his input on supplies and the protection of what he called his tribe.
That evening she said, “People were eyeballing me.”
“They’re curious.”
“Because I’m different.”
“Yes.” He didn’t say anything, so she was forced to.
“But in many respects, we’re not.”
She eyed the remnants of the food on her plate. She didn’t recognize it, but it tasted delicious. Of course, she didn’t eat the plate his mother handed her. Rather she waited for Thyos to take a bite of his then reached over and swapped their dishes. When his mother didn’t protest as he kept eating, she figured she was safe from poison. For now.
His mother said nothing during dinner, but she did stare a lot at Ishtara, who’d arrived with her usual stomping grace just as they were sitting down.
Ish wasn’t one to let a foul-tempered mother bother her. “You overcooked the meat,” Ish declared, wrinkling her beak. Given Zonians liked it raw for the most part, any kind of heat applied to it was too much.
“I agree,” said Thyos, smirking in his mother’s direction.
Which led to said woman standing and declaring, “Are you a barbarian who has no idea how food should be prepared?”
“Perhaps you should show me,” Ishtara replied.
The next thing Clarabelle knew, Ish had joined