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THEY WERE IN A DINING room with jewel-encrusted designs embedded in the walls, and windows painted in bright colors. When the sun shined through, a rainbow effect splashed across the walls. Diamonds dripped from the ceiling in a patterned design held together by gold frames. Everything about the room screamed formal and expensive.
Atlanta stood firm and unmoving. She’d been taught at the youngest of age that presence meant everything.
Strong.
Resilient.
Powerful.
Feared.
Those were the traits an Oncun personal guard should portray. Atlanta’s appearance was a dead giveaway she wasn’t a true Oncun, but her chest puffed with pride at being accepted by them.
While Atlanta didn’t so much as twitch a muscle, her eyes assessed everyone in the room. The attendants and waitstaff scuttled around, delivering wine and other drinks. Some of the other guests had personal guards as well. They took their places behind their clients, just as Atlanta had, and looked as bored as Atlanta felt. There were also five palace security guards who were stationed at various points, and two more were outside the door. That there was so much security in the small but comfortable room was a telling sign.
Maybe the Kgosi didn’t trust one of his invited guests? And if that was the case, why had he invited them as a potential mate?
Hm. Atlanta filed that information away for later. If the Kgosi thought there was a security threat lurking, this job wasn’t going to be as easy as she and Elkah first thought.
Atlanta and Elkah had done reconnaissance on everyone in attendance, combing through their files. There was nothing untoward about any of them. Thankfully the Kgosi had a surplus of palace guards present. If there was a security event, the palace guards would move in to get the prominent guests to safety. Besides, Elkah was a comlink call away. Their comlinks were outfitted with locations set for all three of their devices and Elkah could find them at the touch of a button.
All of the guests were important in one way or another. The Kgosi wasn’t just looking for wealth—which every one of them possessed—he was looking for a mate more powerful than himself.
If this had been any species besides the Ngonyama, Atlanta wouldn’t have given this mating endeavor another thought. But their race believed in true lifemates. From what she’d read, many Ngonyama spent their entire lifetime waiting to find their true lifemate. She’d also read that most royals didn’t seek out theirs.
Instead, royal bonds were arranged between kingdoms or elite families in order to keep the royal bloodline pure and without off-world influence. This would be the first time in the Ngonyama history that a Kgosi sought to bond with an off-worlder and a species other than their own.
A personal guard smacked loudly on a breadstick. When Atlanta looked in his direction he held it up to her as if telling her she could eat one too. Without her rigorous training, she might have relaxed and eaten as well. But she wouldn’t be lax. Her aunt had taught her well. She was to treat every job like it was the highest paid contract she’d ever received. However, this one actually was.
That breadstick sure looks delicious though.
Atlanta’s stomach churned. No sound yet, but next time the stomach growl would be loud. The only time she ate well was when one of her higher end clients paid for something other than the protein packets included in the expenses.
But this time was different. She had access to the food processor. Atlanta quickly reminded herself that she had weeks to indulge and could wait a few more hours. She tightened her stomach muscles and refocused her attention on scanning the room.
There was muted conversation around her, as the guests made small talk with each other, still waiting on the Kgosi to make his appearance. Music played in the background from speakers she couldn’t see. It wasn’t a tune she’d ever heard before, but it was pleasing to her ears. She wondered if the singer was speaking native Ngonyama, and if the song would still sound pleasing without a universal translator.
The Ngonyama language was a series of clicking noises made by pushing air across the sides of their tongues. It was much different than the Oncun language, which had more of a grunting sound. Both were extremely different from her mother’s native tongue, which she remembered sounded lyrical and airy.
Atlanta pushed sad thoughts of her mother from her mind as a quickly as they had come, and focused on the waitstaff. They fluttered about, filling and refilling empty or near empty glasses. With the personal security guards, palace guards, guests and waitstaff, the room should’ve felt cramped, but it didn’t.
The invited guests consisted of different species, and were dressed in some of the finest clothing Atlanta had ever seen. Her gaze landed on Una. For this occasion, Aiko had styled Una’s hair into a bun. The silver of her hair shimmered under the lights, and Aiko had added red highlights to match her dress. Ringlets framed her round face and showed off the diamonds in her ears and around her neck.
Her dress clung to the upper half of her body, accentuating her boney shoulders and wiry frame, then billowed out from the waist down. Her body had been enhanced to lengthen her spine and limbs, making her tower over the others sitting around the table.
If Atlanta saved enough money, she could buy one expensive dress, have her face painted, and hair styled by a professional, but there wouldn’t be anywhere on Luur to wear such an outfit. It would be a waste of time and money.
But just once...
Atlanta held in the sigh she’d almost let out. She normally didn’t think those kinds of thoughts. There was no changing the way she lived, where she lived, or that she was an orphan. She could pray to her mother’s God day in and day out and her circumstance wouldn’t change. Daydreaming and wishful thinking didn’t lead to anything but wasted time.
The double doors whisked open and the Kgosi entered. Even if she hadn’t already studied his picture in the holo-file, Atlanta would’ve known exactly who he was. There was no mistaking the power that radiated around him. The air in the room seemed to shift, as unbridled excitement thickened it. Everyone focused on him, not because he told them to, but because his very aura commanded it.
The Kgosi resembled the other Ngonyamas she’d encountered throughout the palace so far. Most species who didn’t intermingle their bloodline with off-worlders had many of the same characteristics. All Ngonyamas had the same red skin tone, whiskers, a tail, and dark hair. The Kgosi had the same muscular yet lithe frame as the palace guards and was as tall, which made him four heads taller than she was.
When he walked, it was like watching an apex predator stalk across the room. His clothes were loose, yet the coiled muscular form underneath was easily visible. The sleeves of his gold embroidered tunic stretched across his toned arms. Strong thighs flexed under his white pants with each step he took.
A smile curved his full lips. His amber eyes homed in on everyone in the room, one by one. When they locked on Atlanta, there was no humor in his gaze.
His hair was his other striking feature. It was parted down the middle, and styled with two long braids on each side. She figured he’d needed the braids to tame the thick black mass that hung just past his shoulders. Thick hair also created his mustache and beard, and accentuated the whiskers creasing the sides of his mouth.
Like most of the guests in attendance, he wore jewelry. Multiple gold rings lined his pointy earlobes and a heavy gold chain with a decorative stone adorned his neck.
He personally greeted each of his guests, before taking a seat at the head of the table. Immediately, the waitstaff entered and served the first course. Atlanta knew she should’ve focused on the task at hand, guarding her client, but she couldn’t think or look at anyone besides him. The Kgosi was the epitome of pure animal power. He radiated the aura of an Alpha male.
When the Kgosi addressed a guest, he leaned forward and gave her his full attention. There was usually a small uptick in one corner of his mouth as he spoke, showing his playful side to put whoever he spoke to at ease.
And his voice...
God, his voice had a deep rumble that felt so good on Atlanta’s ears. She longed to turn off her universal translator just to hear what he sounded like in his native tongue. But his voice wasn’t the only thing sending tiny eruptions of pleasure skittering down her spine.
She couldn’t take her eyes away from his fingers. She was captivated by the way they played along the base of his wine glass, stroking and teasing, and imagined those same fingers on her skin. There were claws underneath a sheath of skin on the tips. She inhaled a sharp breath. How would those claws feel on her back...gripping her hips?
I would let him do so many things to me. Wicked, nasty things.
As if sensing her stare and all the eye-sexing she sent his way, the Kgosi pulled his gaze from the female he’d been in a conversation with and glanced at Atlanta. For a split second the connection between them paralyzed her. But when he lifted one bushy eyebrow as if to question the train of her thoughts, Atlanta had enough sense that her mother’s God had given her to look away.
She didn’t fool herself into thinking theirs was a shared chemistry. She was sure he had the same effect on every female in attendance. The longing sighs all around her didn’t escape her notice.
Atlanta drew in a deep breath and re-focused. Again.
She was better than this. Being distracted while on duty wasn’t her mode of operation. She went to every job hyper-focused. She had to. As a human, everyone underestimated her and expected her to fail. She didn’t become one of the top personal guards because Aunt Varlah cared for her. No. She had worked twice as hard as everyone else just to prove her worth.
And she’d done that and more.
She loved all of the amenities that came with her job. She couldn’t mess this up. Aunt Varlah had only recently begun giving her the off-world assignments. She’d feared if people noticed Atlanta was human all attention would focus on her and the job could possibly be compromised.
One bad review, and all her hard work to rise in the ranks would be quickly erased. Aunt Varlah wouldn’t hesitate to send her back to fight with the grunts for jobs to keep food on the table.
Atlanta hadn’t slipped up in a long while. Not until the Kgosis had walked into the room.
Stop watching him and he’ll stop watching me.
That seemed easy enough.
Atlanta glanced down at Una. Una couldn’t see where Atlanta’s attention had been focused. Even if she could see, Atlanta wasn’t sure Una would’ve noticed. Una, like the other females, was too enthralled with their host to notice anyone else.
Una laughed at something the Kgosi said and tossed her head. “You have such a wicked humor.”
Oops. I guess she forgot her hair wasn’t hanging over her shoulders.
Atlanta knew the moment Una also noticed her blunder. She cleared her throat and began pushing the main course around her plate. The food smelled so delicious that Atlanta’s mouth watered. She didn’t recognize the dish, but hopefully it was one that was available in the food processor.
Atlanta felt another rumble coming on. She tightened her stomach muscles again to help suppress it.
Crisis averted.
Atlanta hadn’t originally planned to escort Una to the meet and greet. Elkah had been on the schedule for this function. But when Elkah met Una at the door of their suite, Una had taken one look at her and declared Elkah too “Oncun.”
When Elkah asked her to explain further, Una had waved a hand up and down Elkah’s body and told her she was too square, too unattractive and, because she didn’t show emotion, she was too off-putting. Any other species might’ve gotten upset about the put down, but Elkah, being who and what she was, turned around and headed back to her room, leaving Atlanta looking longingly at the food processor as she left the suite.
“The refugees of Phursonin have been given sanctuary by the Gnekpals.”
Although the Kgosi hadn’t made the comment to anyone in particular, the moment he’d spoken every female at the table abruptly stopped any conversation amongst themselves and focused on him.
Atlanta wasn’t one of the females who’d come to Ipakethe hoping the Kgosi would choose her as his queen, but even she wasn’t immune to the authority in his voice.
Her eyes snapped up. Her hunger forgotten.
The Kgosi wasn’t the kind of male she would ever imagine for herself. He was out of her league. There was no one thing about him that told her that. It was the air around him. His aura. The way he carried himself. Everything.
“My government was helping look for placement,” Isra, the Mihr said. “I was glad to hear the Gnekpal government accepted them.”
Melisizwe turned an appraising gaze toward her and gave her one of the most stunning smiles Atlanta had ever seen. Isra must’ve thought so too, because she turned light blue, a sign of her blood flushing her skin.
Una’s head swiveled comically from the Kgosi to Isra, then back to the Kgosi.
Oh, no. Please don’t open your mouth. Don’t open your—
“I heard about the placement as well,” Una said. “I was so happy for those poor unfortunate souls. I couldn’t imagine what they’d been through.”
Una didn’t know anything about the Phursonins’ plight. Generation after generation had mined their planet, rendering it uninhabitable. After they’d realized their planet was essentially dying, they’d called in the best scientists to help reverse the damage. By then it was too late. They had to leave if they didn’t want to die with it.
The Phursonins had been searching for a new home since before Atlanta was born. Most worlds hadn’t wanted to open their planet to a species who’d not only ruined their own planet but also stubbornly rejected offers of help from species they deemed to be “beneath them”.
Atlanta could bet her life that if Una knew anything about the Phursonins, she didn’t know enough to carry on a conversation.
In the short time Atlanta had been around Una, the princess had shown herself to be too self-absorbed to think of others. It would be a miracle if Una could keep the conversation going.
The Kgosi turned Una’s way and Atlanta focused her gaze on one of the shiny spots made by the sun-lit glass on the wall opposite. She wanted to focus on literally anything to avoid eye contact with the Kgosi.
The spot changed from white to a pinkish hue, indicating the changing position of the sun in the sky. As it moved, the sun’s rays hit different parts of the painted glass, effectively changing the color scheme of the walls. The dazzling display couldn’t hold her attention for long though.
“Yes, it was very unfortunate. It took a very long time for another world to accept them,” the Kgosi said. “Luckily the Gnekpals have a low birth rate and had ample room on their planet to accommodate the entire Phursonin species.”
He turned away to start a conversation with someone else.
“Our planet has a strong alliance with the Gnekpals. My mother helped to draft the treaty given to the Phursonins.”
Shut up while you’re ahead, idiot.
Atlanta didn’t have a stake in this match, but she couldn’t help but inwardly cringe at all the ways the conversation could go wrong. Atlanta inhaled a deep breath through her nose.
The Kgosi once more turned to Una, and asked, “The subject of politics interests you?”
Una raised her chin. “Of course.”
Atlanta glanced toward the ceiling. If Aiko were here, she would be able to save Una from the hole she was digging herself. Unfortunately, assistants were not allowed tonight. This gathering was meant for the guests to get to know each other and the Kgosi. Atlanta shouldn’t have cared, or paid any attention to the conversation.
Not my problem.
“I wasn’t aware that your mother had a hand in that. I know the Phusonins initially objected to a treaty. They wanted to live their lives as they had on their own planet.”
Queen Anaiel didn’t draft the treaty. She was one of several who reviewed the initial draft at the Gnekpals request.
“Oh, yes. It’s all my mother and older sisters talked about the...um...Phurosinions.” Una glanced around the table. No one spoke up to ask her to continue, or said anything for that matter. They all watched her, as if basking in her ignorance. Atlanta could see the gleefulness in their eyes.
Not receiving the response she wanted, Una quickly added, “But I don’t mind. I like discussing politics. It’s one of my many passions.”
“How do you feel about the treaty?”
Una’s thin eyebrows rose. “How do I feel about it?”
Atlanta bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from groaning out loud. If Atlanta wasn’t in such a visible position, she would’ve attempted to whisper a fact or two about the treaty secretly in Una’s ear. At least to give her something smart to say and end the conversation that was quickly going sideways.
It’s an ethical question, since the Gnekpals have basically indentured the Phursonins into solving their low birth rate problem in exchange for sanctuary.
“I-I sometimes think treaties are needed in order to make everyone get along. My mother oversees a great many of them.”
Because it’s part of her job as a ranking member of the Galactic Council.
Atlanta shut her eyes. Una should’ve done what half the guests sitting around the expertly set dinner table had done; kept their mouths shut and spoke only on topics they were confident in discussing. But no, conceited pride made Una crave the attention the Kgosi had bestowed on another guest.
Atlanta couldn’t blame her for wanting the Kgosi’s attention. Everything about him screamed power. Every move he made was with purpose. He was all hard lines of masculinity. Definitely not the type of king who sat around and ordered servants about all day.
Atlanta tried her best not to let her gaze wander toward him. As Una continued to make a fool of herself, Atlanta could feel the Kgosi’s eyes on her, heavy, like a weight, demanding she look his way.
Atlanta wasn’t here to get trapped in an Alpha king’s stare. She was a personal guard, not one of the hopefuls who wanted to be his queen.
Eyes forward. Stand at attention. Mouth closed.
––––––––
MELIS COULDN’T HELP smirking on the inside. The amount of willpower the guard exerted not to look his way was almost palpable. Like all the other personal guards, Princess Una’s stood behind her chair, hands down at her sides, face forward. Throughout the meal she’d kept her features blank, but when he’d engaged Princess Una in conversation, the guard’s impassive face began to show signs of life. A twitch here, an eye roll there, mixed in with a few movements on one side of her mouth, making him believe she chewed on the inside of her cheek.
Usually Melis wouldn’t continue to engage someone in a topic they clearly had no knowledge about. It wasn’t a benefit to him if a guest embarrassed herself and left feeling slighted. Although Melis would pick only one of the guests in attendance as his mate, he didn’t want to make enemies of the others. The more connections and alliances he made, the better for his kingdom and for Ipakethe.
Knowing all this, he still engaged Princess Una. He found that he liked her guard’s reactions to the answers the Princess provided. As Princess Una talked on and on about the Phursonins, mispronouncing the name of the species, her guard’s lips moved. It had taken Melis a few minutes to understand what she was doing. The guard was providing the answers to his questions. She obviously knew more about politics than Princess Una.
He liked the guard.
Even though her job required her to blend into the background, Melis had noticed her as soon as he’d entered the room. She was petite, but there were muscles on her slight frame. The black, conforming bodysuit didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Her breasts were perky and round, her stomach flat, and waist small. Her hips were curvy and her thighs were shapely.
She didn’t wear any make-up on her brown skin—she didn’t need it—and the jewels on her face were distractingly beautiful. They were of different shades of blues and made up intricate designs that also spread along the sides of her scalp, where her hair had been shaved away. They arched over her eyes, and snaked down to her cheeks, where smaller gems were dotted in a circular pattern, then veered off to line her jaw, where they conformed into four rows that followed her jaw line to meet at her bottom lip.
He knew of a few species who were born with gems embedded in their skin and many who used jewel piercings as adornments. Melis couldn’t tell if the gems had been placed on her skin or if they were embedded within, but they contrasted spectacularly against her dark skin.
If they were an adornment, he wondered why she would choose something so striking when her profession was to blend in, not stand out.
But even without the jewels she would have been noticeable. She was beautiful, the decorations only amplified it. Although he appreciated her beauty, it wasn’t what had made him give her a second look.
Melis had been drawn to her essence. Something deep inside of her called out to him, drawing him in.
He’d found his true lifemate.