Mate Test (2 page)

you, Your Grace." Crillon's tone was suggestive of other

things he'd like to help Tor with. He knew it was more

habit than invitation. Crillon's other half, Dillon, was also a

member of Tor's staff. Between the two of them, Tor knew

they were looking for a female third but weren't opposed to

tasting others on the way to their groom's day.

"I think you've done enough for now." Tor had a

rule about not taking advantage of his staff; however that

didn't stop them trying to change his mind from time to

time.

* * * *

The castle was big, as most castles are. As he

walked he got the impression of endless hallway after

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endless hallway. The cavernous rooms echoed with each

word exchanged. It took several minutes to get to the guest

wing where the thick tapestries and tall stone walls

overshadowed him.

He put his faith in Crillon to lead him forward as

Baroy entered his mind.

"The castle is surrounded by dragonkin. I have

warned them to be friendly or die."

"Way to make friends
," Tor sent back, amusing

himself. Space dragons were extremely protective and their

power was incredible. It didn't matter that Baroy was

circling the planet. He could still pinpoint Tor's exact

location at any moment in time and annihilate any signs of

danger.

Baroy could push his powers through Tor's body. It

was a painful process that Tor actively avoided; however

he'd be lying to himself if he denied he enjoyed the ability

from time to time.

About the time his tired mind started to lose track of

where he was, they reached his chambers.

"Here we are, Your Grace." Crillon opened the

door, and Tor was pleased to be greeted by his staff.

Whenever he was in a strange place, it was comforting to

have the same people around him.

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Sighing, he allowed Pietro to undress him. The

servant guided him into bed and smoothed the fine linen

sheets over his body. The soft whispers from his staff lulled

him into a deep slumber.

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Chapter Two

Morning was not Tor's favorite time of day. Baroy

had traveled through his thoughts all night, a voyage

through the stars to explore the galaxy surrounding them. It

was a psychic piggyback that exhausted Tor as much as the

journey exhilarated him. He loved traveling with Baroy

because he could feel what the dragon felt and see what the

dragon saw. He experienced the flow of space and the pull

of planets; he watched the birth of stars and saw asteroids

shatter, but by the time morning came around the lack of a

sound night of sleep pulled him down like a dragging tide.

At home, Tor didn't rise until afternoon, but his

uncle had warned him the king was an early riser. Out of

respect to the monarch Tor rose much earlier than usual,

letting his servants dress him in his formal leathers.

Pietro informed him that dressing in leathers for

breakfast was the correct attire for dining with the southern

king. "You want him to see you for the powerful force you

are, after all, you represent the high king". Pietro was very

proud of his position as Tor's right-hand man and felt that

Tor's appearance was a direct reflection on him. As a result,

Tor never left his bedroom looking less than immaculate.

It was a small price to pay for the amount of

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devotion Pietro bestowed on him. He reminded himself of

that the third time Pietro brushed imaginary lint from Tor's

jacket. He somehow doubted the king would downgrade

their agreement due to one piece of lint. He didn't comment

though; he didn't have time to soothe Pietro's ruffled

feathers.

The brown leather pants laced up on the sides,

leaving an inch of skin exposed on the outside of his legs.

His fingers traced the laces in a nervous pattern as he

wondered if the others were also so exposed. Pietro

described his new clothing as he dressed Tor. Over the

white silk shirt, he wore a matching leather jacket with a

dragonhead carefully worked onto the back. The design

carried over through the pants so it looked as if a dragon

were wrapped around his body. It had taken a master

leather worker over a year to make the custom set, and

Pietro was absurdly proud of how Tor looked in his

clothing. Tor only cared about the boots. They were

discreetly hidden beneath the pants and were made from

scales shed by Baroy. The dragon had gifted them to Tor on

his last birthday by psychically transporting them to Tor's

house. They were iridescent and flame proof. He also had a

set of dragon armor that fit over the entire outfit, but Tor

didn't feel he'd need it to face the king. As far as he knew,

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breakfast wasn't a battlefield. Not that he'd ever be allowed

on a battlefield anyway. The armor was more decorative

than anything.

As usual the procession walking with him was

larger than necessary. Two bodyguards, four warriors, and

three personal servants followed him. He knew there were

at least ten more of his people somewhere around the

castle, but he had no idea where. He knew they switched

places to cover the twenty-four hour call Pietro insisted was

necessary for Tor's comfort.

After what seemed like forever, they reached an

entryway wide enough for him to pass with a servant on

either side.

Tor's stomach growled.

"Follow me, my lord." The familiar voice belonged

to Sally, the only female staff member who traveled with

him. Sally whispered, "You are a few spots down from the

king." Then more loudly she said, "Your coffee, my lord."

A long metal cylinder was placed in his hand. He felt the

displacement of air as she curtseyed before him. He'd spent

some time in his youth trying to stop this habit but was

overruled by his staff.

Tor gripped the thermos like the lifeline it was. "Oh,

I love you, Sally," he said, giving his servant a kiss on the

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cheek as she passed.

"I'm getting him coffee tomorrow," he heard

someone whisper behind him.

He popped open the cylinder and downed the hot,

bitter liquid. Sally had mixed it with the perfect amount of

rich cream.

"Mmmm." He let the sound roll across his tongue as

Pietro seated him.

* * * *

King Naron Dragane almost choked on his toast

when the duke entered the room. The picture he'd seen

beforehand hadn't done the man justice. Tousled honey-

gold hair surrounded a face with perfect sculpted cheeks

and full pouty lips, and while Naron saw formal leathers

every day, he had never seen them look so damn good.

The molded leather was an unusual color, the same

as Tor's hair, both cut to show off that finely formed body.

Fuck, what workmanship, both the body and the clothing!

When the duke tipped back his head and drank from

the canister, Naron barely held back the urge to leap over

the table and mark Tor's throat. The sexy sound the duke

emitted made Naron's dick harder than his planet's famed

stones.

"Your Grace," he said after the sexy man was

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seated. There were several guards, an older man, a woman,

and so many extra people surrounding the duke that Naron

wondered what they all did.

"Your Highness." The duke's smooth and sexy

voice didn't help Naron's erection fade a bit. Dark glasses

covered Tor's eyes, preventing Naron from seeing his

expression.

"On my planet it's considered a courtesy to bare

your eyes," he said in a hard voice. There was nothing he

wanted more in the universe than to see the gorgeous

creature's eyes.

"Forgive me, King Naron," Tor said in his soft

seductive voice. "I wear glasses for the protection and

comfort of others. I was dragon-struck as a child."

That was one rumor confirmed.

"What happens if you take off your glasses?"

The duke shrugged, an elegant motion. "Nothing

much." There was a hesitant pause, and he shrugged once

again. "My eyes unsettle most."

"We're all dragonkin here. I'm sure we can stand the

horror of your eyes."

There were murmurs of agreement among his men,

some unfriendly. The beautiful man unknowingly

challenged his people with his words.

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"Come here and stand before me."

Without hesitation the man slid out of his seat.

Naron didn't miss the unfriendly looks cast at him by the

duke's staff. It was clear they didn't like his tone.

Tough.

A cane was pressed into one elegant hand, and two

of the largest men the King had ever seen stood on either

side of the duke. Not that Tor was short, but these men

were massive. Around their necks they wore thick black

leather collars with large silver rings embedded in them.

Cat shifters. Naron could tell by the reflective shine

in their eyes. They were twins by the looks of them,

extremely rare in the shifter race. While cats had litters, cat

shifters rarely had more than one offspring at a time.

Tor obeyed swiftly with a smooth grace he wouldn't

have expected in a blind man. Naron wondered what else

the young man would be so obedient about. His cock

pulsed in his pants when he thought about the golden-

haired beauty accepting other orders, ones that involved the

bedroom and silky sheets.

Tor stopped on the other side of the table, leaving

his glaring bodyguards standing a step behind.

"You were forewarned, Your Majesty," the

beautiful man said as he stood before Naron.

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Hmm. Maybe not quite so obedient.

"Remove them," he demanded.

The duke slid off his glasses and lifted his head so

Naron could see his eyes. At first he thought Tor's eyes

were completely black, but then there was a flash, then a

series of flashes. In the space of a few seconds he saw

galaxies move in those magnificent eyes. For the first time,

Naron felt the duke's power pour over him. The rumors

were true. Those amazing eyes were dragon struck.

Space dragon struck.

However, it wasn't the beauty and power of those

eyes that pulled at him. It was the sorrow.

This beautiful dragon-bonded man was burdened

with so much sadness it was a miracle he could stand.

"Your Majesty." His page nudged him, snapping

him out of his trance.

Naron blinked. How much time had passed? "You

may put your glasses back on. I don't think my people are

ready for the power of your eyes."

Or that much pain.

Tor nodded. His body language was calm as he

smoothly slid his glasses back on and returned to his seat.

Naron watched with amusement as the duke was

quickly wrapped in the bosom of his people. The two

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guards stepped up to hover over Tor as if he were in danger

of imminent attack. One man sat him down, another

brought him a covered dish, and yet still another reached to

refill the silver canister on the table.

Naron bit his lips, trying not to smile as Tor did the

first aggressive thing he'd seen. The duke fucking growled.

Tilting his head, he could just hear the servant's low

placating voice.

"I have more, Your Grace. Fresh. I thought you

might prefer a cup."

A nervous smile crossed the servant's face as he

made a production out of producing a china cup and an

elaborate hammered silver pot. Black liquid came pouring

out and some fresh cream was added to the mix.

Curiosity made him ask, "What are you drinking,

Your Grace?"

"Divinity," Tor answered taking another sip. A

smile lifted one corner of the man's kissable lips. "Would

you like a cup?"

"Yes. I believe I would." Anything that made Tor

smile was worth tasting.

The chatter at the table fell to a hush as the duke

accepted a second cup from his servant. Instead of sending

it over like one would expect a royal to do, Tor brought it

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over himself. Naron watched in amazement as Tor took the

crooked arm of one of his shifters and traversed around the

table without difficulty. With natural grace, Tor slid into

the empty seat beside Naron.

The consort chair.

Naron was going to speak, but he couldn't force