Chapter 42 #2
The sight of Atem easily cut Peony's anxiety in half. She found herself able to breathe again, even if she wasn't fully comfortable in her skin yet. But it was easier to push the feeling aside as she and the other girls grinned as Temnavi chested up to Atem.
She had to pick a guardian to fight the most skilled male on the planet.
Since she didn't have family here to fill the role, her options were either one of the girls or one of Atem's family.
It wasn't uncommon for an adassi to choose from their mate's family if they didn't have one of their own and, for Atem, that was either Tuvo or Temnavi.
While Tuvo would be the more logical choice, Temnavi was so much funnier. And actually presented Atem with a problem since he couldn't seriously fight the clawless boy. And though he be but little, her guardian was fierce. He took his job seriously as he loudly proclaimed-
“Why have you come here?!”
Atem was so startled that it took him a second to remember his role. A smirk spread over his face before he fixed it back into a serious scowl.
“I am Atem, First Domini of Turv. I come to retrieve my mate.”
“You dare to claim one of my clan? You have not proven yourself worthy. I will not surrender her to so weak a domin.”
Atem held up his hand as though flexing his claws, though they remained retracted. “Then, I challenge you to prove my worth.”
“Very well! To the sparring grounds!”
His head held high, Temnavi led the way. Stomping his feet like he was marching. Tuvo was biting both his lips to avoid breaking out into laughter as they passed, though Atem followed his ward with the solemn seriousness that the occasion called for.
The girls trailed after them, Tuvo bringing up the rear. The short walk leading to a terrace just below the canopy did more to calm Peony than all her pacing and breathing counts together.
The sparring area was for Atem's personal use and consisted of a square section filled with sand to both cushion blows and provide resistance training while moving.
Along one edge were two racks of weapons, one modern and one traditional.
A control panel at the corner could lower the sand and replace it with a hard floor, add movement to the ground for extra difficulty, as well as keep time, record the matches for later study, and could even provide instruction for those not as skilled.
It was a fascinating blend of old style and modern amenities.
Temnavi walked confidently to the center, almost tripping in the sand but correcting himself quickly.
Atem pretended that he didn't notice as he followed after. The two males stopped about six feet apart and faced each other.
What followed was the most one-sided match Peony had ever seen – and she had witnessed Atem kick a male over the edge of the platform after only a second without letting him land a single blow.
Atem couldn't seriously fight Temnavi, but Temnavi was taking his role super seriously.
He came at him fangs bared, non-existent claws at the ready.
And though he was young, Temnavi wasn't unskilled.
He had been training with Atem since he had come into his care.
Atem danced just out of his reach, blocking blows and, like the teacher he was, giving pointers here and there that Temnavi didn't seem to realize would likely have been insulting if they were actually fighting each other.
“He's getting better,” Tuvo remarked where he stood beside Peony. He had a traditional role as well, though it was a small one. He was something like the best man and was there to make sure that Atem wasn't hurt and that the fight was fair.
No matter that the former was impossible.
“Temnavi wants to be a warrior one day,” Peony said, smiling with pride at the two males. Temnavi wasn't Atem's son, by his choice, but he might as well be. Which meant he would be her almost-son by technicality when they were mated.
Tuvo hummed in agreement with her statement. “He feels the need to restore his honor after his father's crimes.”
“Huh?” Peony looked at him, surprised.
Tuvo waved at the air as though banishing the idea. “We've told him it wasn't necessary, but he refuses to listen. I'm rather proud, actually. He will be a truly honorable male and warrior one day.”
“What are you talking about?” Peony asked, frowning.
Tuvo looked at her, surprised. “You don't know? Temnavi is the son of the previous dominani.”
Peony near choked on her tongue. Temnavi was Jutitorii's son? That's why he was an orphan? Because Atem had his father killed?! And he refused to accept Atem as his new father, not because he loved Jutitorii, but because he felt honor bound to make up for his crimes?
Atem had tried to adopt his hated enemy's son and was even now raising him?!
She looked back at the ring, stunned by what she saw in light of this new information.
Atem had his hands up and was providing easy targets for Temnavi to strike – like they were boxers training in a ring without gloves, if boxers swiped and stabbed with their claws.
There was genuine affection and pride in Atem's smile as he directed his not-son in proper technique.
She had seen how dedicated Atem was to Temnavi's education and knew that the morning on the ninth of every tenday was their training morning.
She never once thought that Atem treated him badly or as anything less than a son even despite not calling him that.
She had chosen Atem's hated predecessor's son as her protector, and he even now beamed with pride.
Atem allowed the fight to go on for about five minutes before he grappled Temnavi in a way that, according to their conversation, Temnavi should have remembered how to escape but did not. Atem claimed his victory, told him to practice that grapple, gave him a few other pointers, then stood up.
Temnavi grinned at him, clearly pleased with himself, before seeming to remember his role. “Oh, right! You are a strong domin. I know my clan sister will be safe with you. And if she is not, I will come after your hide!”
Atem beamed at him proudly. “If I fail her, I will offer it freely.”
Temnavi stalked off the sparring field and Atem and finally looked at Peony.
Her heart quivered in her chest as she took in at this magnificent male. A king who raised his enemy's child as his own, who had the love of an entire planet, who was unbeatable in combat, and who would take in a gaggle of humans that had no one else.
And somehow, he wanted her.
“Vi Peony,” he saluted her, but laid his hand flat over his heart instead of pounding it with his fist. “I have proven myself capable of defending you. Will you accept me?”
She wanted to scream yes. That he had proven himself over and over again. But that wasn't her line and that wasn't what she finally managed to say after wetting her lips.
“You can defend me, but why should I depend on you? I challenge you to determine who shall defend who.” The words made her snicker with how ridiculous they sounded, but she still stepped down into the sand pit.
Atem grinned, facing her just as seriously as he had faced Temnavi, as he had faced the challengers from his Hortii Kristivar. It was a true grin, but it didn't seem mocking.
Peony didn't even know the few moves that Temnavi did. Her best bet was to yell like a banshee and charge at a full sprint that was seriously slowed by the sand beneath her sandals. Atem didn't even put in any effort.
He caught her wrist, twisted her in, grabbed her other wrist, crossed her arms over her chest, and clutched her close. He chuckled right in her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder as she struggled against him, bucking back without any result.
“Vi adassi,” he growled sensuously. “Vi krititori vask seerin ka dinira.”
Peony laughed, wiggling her butt against him. “I recognized most of that.”
He hummed in agreement, kissing on her neck. “Do you accept me as your domin?”
Peony ceased her struggles and leaned back on him. “You do seem strong.”
“Very strong,” he agreed, sucking on her neck.
“Atem.”
“Hm?”
“There's a child watching,” she whispered like it was a secret.
“No, there's not.”
He turned her to show that Temnavi, Tuvo, and the girls had all left. She was told that they would leave her and Atem alone once he had her defeated. Which admittedly took no time at all. She wouldn't be surprised if they had bailed the moment she stepped into the arena.
“They could at least pretend I had a chance,” she laughed.
“You are destined to be vi adassi. Why pretend otherwise?” He hadn't even lifted his head as he continued teasing her sensitive flesh.
“Am I your adassi now? Is it done?”
“Mm... not yet, vi Seerin. One more thing to do.”
He dragged his fangs down her neck, teasing her with the sharp point without drawing blood before he released her. Just long enough for him to scoop her into his arms and walk away.
Peony couldn't beat him in combat. But if he wanted to tease her, she could definitely play that game and have a far better chance of winning.
She began nipping and sucking at his skin as he had hers. He didn't miss a step, but his arms tightened around her when she sucked particularly hard, determined to find out what a hickey on a species capable of camouflage and who didn't blush would look like.
His tough skin was resistant to hickeys, as it turned out, but that didn't mean she was giving up her attempts.
One hand moved through his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail he had made at the back of his head then playing with the surprisingly silky strands.
All the domini had straight hair, she hadn't seen a single curly haired one amongst them.
But she rather liked how smooth and soft the strands were as she worked her fingers through.
Her lips and teeth teased his flesh as her other hand, working at a bit of an awkward angle, teased his nipple.