Chapter 6 #2
Two prized creations stalked from their gates on opposite sides of the coliseum from each other.
The contenders were adorned in fighting leathers and ancient-looking metal armor.
The crystalline technology of the tactical suits, along with modern weapons and starlight, had been forbidden to honor the old ways.
The fighters would have to make do with weapons and armor fashioned after a simpler time when Gods walked the constellations.
Many of the contenders’ armor would be crafted in the likeness of the mythical creature of their Line or of their House sigil.
Tarek crossed his arms over his broad chest as he watched the two Taureons circle each other in the beginning of their death dance. He huffed out a breath.
“What, you’re not jealous, are you?” Tala asked him, treading up the dais steps to sit on the armrest of his massive throne.
While not solid selenite like his throne in the palace, the steps beneath his quartz throne were, and Tarek’s power surged at their proximity.
“No,” he said, nudging her hip with his elbow. “I see why you dressed us in finery today, sister, but I can’t help but get lost in the moment a bit,” he said with a wide grin.
“Oh, please. You’ll get your share of blood whether that’s today or another.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Tarek demanded, leaning forward on his knees as he clenched his hands into fists.
Tala gave a pointed look at his tightened hands and rose, making her way down the dais steps.
“Just that I know you, brother, and whatever it is you think you’re doing, you’re not fooling me. Be careful. Enjoy the festivities.”
“You’re not staying?” he argued as Tala left his throne and turned to walk down the hall that would lead her into the private lounge reserved for the elite society of their House.
“You know how the obscene production of violence bores me,” she said over her shoulder.
“Our House—”
“—won’t notice I’m gone, dear brother. They are already lost in their desire for violence, as you surely will be soon.”
Within a breath, Tala was gone, trailed by a couple of white-clad attendants.
Tarek shook his sister’s departure off and gazed down to where the Taureons were locked in a fierce battle.
Weapons clashed and feet swept beneath their opponents, kicking up clouds of sand as they each sought to get the upper hand.
Tarek tipped his head back, resting it on the throne behind him, letting the frenzied energy sink in further.
It was easy to get carried away in the lust of battle.
While he was next in Line to Ascend as Primary Star and ruler over House Taurus, Tarek was a formidable fighter and had maintained his position by his own prowess.
His eyes roamed over his constellation gathered in the stadium seating, the power humming in their veins ripe for the taking—his birthright.
In a realm abandoned by the Gods, attaining power and keeping it was everything.
His time was coming. Refocusing on the two stars below, he pursed his lips slightly, evaluating their choppy movements as they fought to the death. The fracturing would begin soon.
A pale hand snaked its way around Tarek’s inner bicep, dragging his attention along with it. He trailed his eyes from the dainty hand resting on his coiled muscle to a pair of perky breasts and rose-colored eyes framed by icy lashes and a head of pearl-blonde hair.
“A drink, Apparent?” the attendant asked.
She was a pretty thing.
Momentarily distracted by her assets, it took him a moment to recognize her as one of the Gemini twins in his service.
“Mun, is it? Or are you Teja? I can never tell,” he chuckled as he ran a finger down her cheek. She blushed.
“I am Teja, Apparent,” she said with a nod before indicating with a tilt of her chin to her twin standing at the base of the quartz throne, her silky hair shifting with the movement.
“Teja, Mun,” Tarek smiled as his eyes darted between the twins. “Always a pleasure.”
“Primary,” Mun murmured with a deep curtsy.
“Hmmm. When you say things like that, it makes me wish we were not in such a public setting.”
It was Mun’s turn to blush next while her twin trailed her fingers up his shoulder and traced the golden horn.
This game of innocence was nothing new. He and the twins had their fair share of flings over the years while they were loaned to him from Pollux and Castor, the Primary and Adjacent Stars of Gemini.
Just a pair of pretty spies were all they were.
Though the not-so-innocent game between them all was which House they truly reported to.
Tarek got to his feet and wound his arm around Teja’s waist before she could slip away to stand beside Mun.
The twins were identical, and he hadn’t been coy when he told Teja he couldn’t tell them apart.
Both sets of the same rose-colored eyes regarded him brazenly, sweeping him up and down.
Tarek returned their heated gazes, noting that their white robes were much more sheer than his House standard for attendants.
Mun extended a hollowed-out golden bull’s horn to him, which he accepted graciously, finding his throat suddenly parched.
He pulled Teja snugly into his side while he swallowed deeply, maintaining his smoldering gaze on the sister in front of him.
As he drained the last of the drink, he passed the horn back to Mun.
Tarek then pulled Teja flush to his chest, ogling her breasts.
She giggled while Mun placed the horn on a stand nearby.
He backed Teja up until he crowded her against the balcony railing. Lowering his head, he whispered to her, “You wouldn’t be trying to distract me from The Games, now would you?”
“Of course not… Primary,” Teja said breathlessly.
A deep growl rumbled from his chest as he took her lips with his in a bruising kiss.
A loud cheer sounded from the crowd. With more effort than he cared to admit, he broke apart from the kiss and slid his hands down to Teja’s waist, squeezing her soft flesh under the thin robe before he stepped around her to view how the contenders were progressing.
The once-pristine sand of the pit was deliciously flecked with drops and ribbons of red.
Weapons were strewn about wherever the bearer had been disarmed, and Tarek devoured the sight with pure wanton desire.
Without missing a beat, Mun slid next to him and hopped on the edge of the box railing, splaying her legs wide.
The flimsy material of the robe left little to the imagination.